I thought about my sister today. Suddenly.
I was on the way back from the kiosk with milk, when a small plane flew over me, quite close, on it’s way to Wilson Airport.
It was followed by a larger one – turboprop – still small but you know…20 passengers or something.
Planes fascinate me. When they’re far off, they just seem like they were meant to be in the air, but closer, it’s amazing that they actually stay up there!
It’s clear how fast they have to move when they’re that close. It’s clear how disasterous plane crashes are.
I flashed back to when it was I last saw a small aircraft so close.
My sister and her husband on the airstrip, climbing into a little plan, heading off to Safari – taking in everything possibe before saying good-bye to it all.
I remember her in specific detail. How she looked, how she talked to her husband.
I just stood on the pavement and cried.
I’ll never see her again, not here. That’s it. Whatever came, came for a moment, and then left.
We were going to live forever.
Todays meditation was on getting in touch with people.
I didn’t get in touch with anyone.
Getting in touch scares me – the vast leap of events between the last meeting twenty years ago, and the ‘hello’, now.
Like a slug or a snail who’s antenne has grazed something unpaletable, I’ve withdrawn.
I don’t mean to do it, I don’t mean to have this strange mist descend and shroud me.
I feel ephemeral – tenuous – blurry….like a smudge in the corner on an otherwise pristine painting.
You could reach out to touch me, and find there’s nothing there at all.