“I slept and dreamt that life was joy. I awoke and saw that life was service. I acted and behold, service was joy.”...Rabindranath Tagorei spent the morning reading texts from a friend who is angry. not at me per se, but at life. he has struggled with his art, his work, and his finances for the last several years. my belief is that it is taking quite a toll.
he has always had a tendency to be critial of others and sharp witted with his criticisms. but this once very entertaining leaning of his seems to have shifted into toxic territory. members of his inner circle have left the building and are staying as far away as they can. getting close somehow gets them under his silver-tongued knife and who wants to live like that?
not surprisingly, he messaged me with diatribe that was intended to surprise and stir up doo doo about them and with me. and on a small scale, it worked, but i didn't want to give rise to that energy. some of what he said was no doubt true, but certainly not all of it, and his intentions didn't merit respect.
but i've known him for 30 years or so. i care about him and have made a few attempts to share my new direction with him, and he listens although i am not sure he hears. i know he is hurt by this seemingly endless struggle, by the loss of his nearest and dearest, by the insistence of his family that he let go of some of his dreams, and this hurt has become a virus that has taken hold of his heart.
i am sad. i rebuffed his shit-stirring attempts and highlighted the posture of assuming the best, making room for good in life, choosing peace. but i don't know if i'm heard. i don't know if i can help. i know i don't have to to judge or set free. i can try to understand and hold a light. i can remember that i have loved him and understand he may need it now more than ever.
carly simon.. 1994... grand central station.... i haven't got time for the pain..