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markdohle

A rainy night

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A rainy night

It was a raining evening, cold and not-dreary at all. For I love rain in all of its forms. Needed to go to the pharmacy to pick up some medicine for one of the men I sort of take care of. It was a nice drive. I love driving at night, especially when it is raining. Love the sound of the drops hitting the car and wind shield, the beauty of the running water on the road; I find it relaxing…..though of course it is not the safest time to be out and about.

I got the medicines and was on my way back home and took the back road route, less cars, less stress, more beauty and quiet. As I was getting close to Hwy 138 I noticed a long line of cars waiting for the light to change. I was taken by the beauty of the scene as well as how precious this particular moment was and how even in experiencing it, was gone. Can’t cling, but knowing how unique this trip was, this moment, and all the moments involved, gave a certain importance to what was just a common errand, yet it was not. There are no common moments, it is the perspective that happens when I don’t see, that gives the illusion of the unimportance of what is in front of me.

This evening I was walking around our cemetery looking at the graves….so many there now. When I entered the community in 1971 there were only 9, now there are 50, most of which are of men that I helped to take care of. As I was praying for them (a catholic thing), walking from row to row, I was amazed at the dates, how fast time flows. At some of the graves I felt more loss than at others. At one grave I felt deeply sorrowful, yet all of them were men of depth and faith, each having the complex mixture of good, bad, struggle and compulsion, strength and victory…..of which grace won out in the end.

I have this image of myself at 94 (though I doubt I will live that long), sitting in my room and thinking, I just turned 25, how can I be here? For me that is how fast life goes by, so maybe that was why I had that experience of the importance of an outwardly mundane moment, which in reality is not, since it will never be repeated again.

Don’t cling,

experience the nakedness

the moment,

drink in the Presence,

the silence

that simply is.

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There, Mark, is where I think we find peace and serenity, by not clinging, but by simply being in the moment.

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Slight coincidence, my mother died at 94 just this year (actually it's getting close to a year since she died) and we are talking about what sort of death-day party we will have. The first anniversary of a person's death is customarily observed in Vietnam with a party of family and friends and anyone else to eat and drink and sing and, of course, pray.

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There, Mark, is where I think we find peace and serenity, by not clinging, but by simply being in the moment.

Yes my friend, thanks. It is a life long process, well it is for me LOL.

peace

mark

Slight coincidence, my mother died at 94 just this year (actually it's getting close to a year since she died) and we are talking about what sort of death-day party we will have. The first anniversary of a person's death is customarily observed in Vietnam with a party of family and friends and anyone else to eat and drink and sing and, of course, pray.

Sounds like a wonderful tradition my friend, a healthy one.

peace

mark

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I love rain, but actually everything about it.......for instance I don't like the fact that it is wet :cry:

doug

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I love rain, but actually everything about it.......for instance I don't like the fact that it is wet :cry:

doug

You mean 'not' everything about it LOL.......can't have everthing old friend. I hate snow, many love it.

peace

mark

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In Vietnam the rain is heavy and very, very wet, but warm and cleans the air, and of course there is no snow (well I've heard stories about in the North in the mountains but that's hard to believe). Now that the streets have been built up so there is little flooding anymore, everyone welcomes the coming of the rain. It ends the hot, dusty dry season. The people in the business of repairing roofs are especially happy.

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In Vietnam the rain is heavy and very, very wet, but warm and cleans the air, and of course there is no snow (well I've heard stories about in the North in the mountains but that's hard to believe). Now that the streets have been built up so there is little flooding anymore, everyone welcomes the coming of the rain. It ends the hot, dusty dry season. The people in the business of repairing roofs are especially happy.

I would love to go to Viet Nam one day, it sounds like a beautiful country.

peace

mark

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