I dream a little dream of me.
That dreams of a little dream of me.
You dream a little dream of you.
That dreams of a little dream of you.
We both dream a dream of a soul’s recursion.
In infinite lives, and infinite dispersions.
But we dream of a soul that is not there.
But the dream of that soul, it does not care.
Materialism and Idealism both sing of souls.
One is determinedly real, and one a free-will “suppose.”
I’m a Personal Fitness Trainer for my day job. I had this conversation with an elderly client a few years ago whose story is changed just enough to hide her identity.
CLIENT: “Will, I can only get five sessions now. My husband is in memory care and the bills are killing me.”
ME: “Yikes! I’m sorry. No worries. I’m glad to help. My mom is in memory care right now. How are you holding up?”
CLIENT: “Oh, he’s fine. He thinks I’m his mother … AND … he now has a girlfriend.”
ME: “Ow. How does THAT feel?”
CLIENT: “I’m okay. He’s a story teller, and I get to watch her hang on his every word.”
CLIENT: It’s good to see him in love.”
ME: (TRYING NOT TO TEAR UP): “Excuse me, but I have exactly three words for you
… BEST …
… WIFE …
Went to see mom today. Asked her a familiar question:
ME: “Mom, you are wiser than I. What do you think is the meaning of life?”
((SHE PAUSED LIKE SHE HEARD THE QUESTION FOR THE FIRST TIME EVER FROM ME.))
MOM: “I don’t know. The MEANING of life?”
MOM: “Breathing in and out.”
ME: “Breathing in and out?”
MOM: “Yeah, until you die.”
ME: “Okay. So, if breathing in and out is the meaning of life, what’s the meaning of death?”
((A SHORT PAUSE))
MOM: “Not breathing in and out.”
Jeannette Harper: ZEN MASTER
PERSONAL NOTE: If she paralleled her death statement with her life statement it would read, “Not breathing in and out until you live.”
I got nothing on this chick folks. Really.