to say good night..Good night...sleep tight...
Today was a day in which I kept running into people who had known Zalman, who told me how they had loved his lunch lectures at Naropa, his books, etc.
Yes. Me too.
It was the time of his last great flush of energy, those first years here in Boulder---even though he began dealing with health issues already that first year, and crises came ever more frequently.
Even with the increasing physical difficulties, he maintained so much genuine cheer so much of the time; and so much kindness. And great patience with me.
At times it seemed we were at cross-purposes: he was busy coming to terms with his approaching death, which he could see ever more clearly. I was busy shoring up the leaks and keeping him as well as possible. I think that often he may have wished I would just let it go.
How could I?
And now, in terms of my own gradually changing health: what do I fight for, and what do I let drift?
It is much harder to see that for myself than it was to try to see for him.
It is strange, at this stage certainly past my peak, to contemplate how to shape the years still given to me. I look at the program he shaped for the Spiritual Eldering work. My concise description is: "How to become a valued resource as an Elder, rather than merely one more old fart."
And as I slowly grow out of the trance of grieving, and out of the shock of the election, I ask myself: