We stand and talk with man who has stopped treatment for brain tumor. He is cheerful. Invites us to visit him on island he keeps.
We will be stewarding a 15' Matinicus
living currently in midwest
. It all happened suddenly, after Sunday Evening Practice, fortuitously.
We investigate dock space at head of harbor. It looks good.
In the shade
Of a remote mountain,
I have you for my companion
Now the storm has passed,
Moon of the winter night.
we live alone together. Everyone is alone, really. Relationships help, community helps. But at beginning and at end we are alone. The gift is to be alone together.
It helps generously.
is born and dies:
The emptiness of emptiness!
Tomorrow is the honoring of Saints Peter and Paul. It was on 29June1996 we opened
the shop at the harbor. Fourteen years later we return to the harbor with rowing peapod
to attend anonymously the liturgical life of tides and their acolytes.
We told the man, thin and more unsteady now, we'll wave and stop in time to time. His smile portended delight, a prolepsis
of transition slacking and ebbing, the quiet narrative of distant horn in fog and mist up and down the coast.
If at the end of our journey
There is no final
Then we need not fear
Losing our Way.
Rest awhile, friend.
Then, push off again.