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I love home grown tomatoes – specifically, heirloom tomatoes such as Missouri Pink Loves, German Reds, and Ethel Watkins’  Juicy Best.  Every Saturday, we have a kick-ass Farmer’s Market down by the train station and across from the new transportation center.  Every year I look forward to coming to town, milling about, bumping into people I might otherwise not, listening to some college kids playing blue grass or the blues for tips and of course for the homegrown tomatoes.  And lately, for something else.   I’ve been having these experiences you see and I don’t know what to do with or about them – if anything.  Maybe just enjoy them which is pretty much what I’ve been doing seeing as I don’t know what else to do anyway.

I like to stand back in the shade behind the food vendors and near the music.  There are benches here and old folks like me come to sit down a bit and young folks with young kids like to come hang out for a little time out.  Always lot’s going on and  I am just watching.  All of a sudden there is no me watching – no sense of Robert B……or Doc Rob – just awareness watching.  Watching and seeing self mirrored in the old guy sucking oxygin and with the little kid screaming “I want I want.”   Watching the one life ripple, dance and weave its magical and dappled light.   There is watching and then at some point there is Robert watching again and when I see  I welcome him home and invite him to share his adventures.

“When the ilusion of separation drops away,” Stephen Batchelor says that there is “a chance of freedom from constraints of self centered confusion and turmoil, from the craving for a fixed identity, from the compulsion to contrive a perfect solution, and from identification with preconceived opinions,” to fall away.   I like this Batchelor guy but I like the way the Eagles said it back in the summer of my life journey even better:  “So often times it happens that we live our lives in chains and never even know we have the key.” Such youthful wisdom followed by “….and you’ll have to eat your lunch all by yourself.”  We have all eaten a lot of lunches by our self.

The first time I recall experiencing the ilusion of separatness falling away to this degree was when I first set foot on Colfax marching in this years GayPride Parade in Denver.  At the time, I attributed the perception of watchfulness I experienced as I moved in a wave of energy and light and love – swept along – lifted and carried, to the emotional trauma and drama of paying honor to the only real thing I know about my dad – he was gay.   But I was wrong.   This experience of noticing how one minute I am here, holding my bag of tomatoes, watching the scene before me, and the next there is just watching and I am the scene unfolding only what ever I am is not controlling anything…….It keeps recurring….Like breathing.  I can’t pass it off as some quirk…….And I think this is something worth paying attention too….and you….What do you think?

4 Drops