In my life I have had many friends of both sexes . . . from my childhood in the housing project, to the military, to the hippy days, to my many years of wandering and wondering, to today where I have few friends at all.

Today I am an old man who spends most of his time alone. If it weren’t for my wife there would be little contact with humanity at all . . . sad I suppose to some, but not so sad to me. People fear getting old and irrelevant like they fear the plague. But I have to say, “Man, I am digging it.” Today I feel more in touch, more connected to the circle of life than ever before.

My friends are still with me, as are my few enemies, but they now live in memory and dreams of past experience . . . and love? . . . well, when love was an emotional experience for me I gave or withheld it at will. It wasn’t until lately, when I found myself alone, that I began to see and to realize that love is not only an emotion, but it is also a state of being. The deeper experience hides from view when constantly being focused by emotion, and only comes to life when one steps back into quiet reflection and gives it the freedom it needs to spread across the entire spectrum of life. This view is a very beautiful place, but can only be experienced out of earshot of the constant babbling of men . . .

And hey, what the hell, if I still need a little bit of emotion I have four dogs, two cats, a wonderful wife, a healthy life, and a whole woods full of critters and creatures surrounding me to bestow my love upon.

So sometime when you’re driving by the old man sitting all alone on his porch staring off into oblivion and you begin to feel sorry for him . . . don’t . . . some of us have actually found what we have been mad dashing across the planet all those years looking for.



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