There are so many kinds of silence. There is the quiet of companionship, on a line at a movie. The quiet of two bodies winded in a bed. There is the uncomfortable silence that comes , suddenly, to end a playfulness, a silence to funble in, a silence to walk through that need no completing. There are the silences like rain that slow the day, the quiet story of a man who has died while dreaming. These are the laws of silence. That it is pliant and thus cannot Be broken. That it is company to every voice.
In the summer of 2006, we spent three months trying to get rid of a systemic infection that resulted from hip surgery. Mother passed away on September 8, 2006, only a couple of weeks after Joy took this picture. Everyone had convinced me that she was ready to stop fighting — the pain was too much.
— kenne
*****
Her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.
Let me not to the marriage of true minds Admit impediments. Love is not love Which alters when it alteration finds, Or bends with the remover to remove: O no! it is an ever-fixed mark That looks on tempests and is never shaken; It is the star to every wandering bark, Whose worth’s unknown, although his height be taken. Love’s not Time’s fool, though rosy lips and cheeks Within his bending sickle’s compass come: Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks, But bears it out even to the edge of doom. If this be error and upon me proved, I never writ, nor no man ever loved.
Yoga powers. To make oneself invisible or small. To become gigantic and reach to the farthest things. To change the course of nature. To place oneself anywhere in space or time. To summon the dead. To exalt senses and perceive inaccessible images, of events on other worlds, in one’s deepest inner mind, or in the minds of others.
Follow what you love! . . Don’t deign to ask what “they” are looking for out there. Ask what you have inside. Follow noy your interests, which change, but what you are and what you love, which will and should not change.
