Stuff Is Crazy

the water from the clothes washer backs up into the bathtub and toilet...and the guys from the city have been out and have shoved a camera up the sewer line and have dug holes and put in new pipes, and still it backs up...

and Teresa knows we have to wash very small loads of laundry because of this but will wash a big load anyway and flood the house...and then not like it if I "blame" her...

and someone has tried twice in one week to break into our house, once jumping over a not inconsiderable wooden fence, having obviously spied on our comings and goings, so well-timed was his near-B&E...

what else?

I've had this cold from hell forever...still coughing like Keats on his deathbed...

BUT I'm trying to stay in gratitude, trying to give all of this to my Divine Mother...trying not to want anything from Her but knowing She has everything...knowing I want everything...

sometimes I feel Her love, or Laura's love (same thing--but one is easier to accept than the other) washing over me like pounding Hawaiian surf, and I know there is no death and there is no me and there is no loss and nothing to fear and no place where She is not...

that makes more sense than it used to...I feel Her in every moment like the chest-swelling infrasonic harmonics at a rock and roll concert, that reverberate beneath the songs mute, yet humming like a third rail--they form the carrier wave for it all, drums and bass and guitar and wail--but I long to hear the song and feel the pulse as One--