Baruch's Blog

Today is the ninth anniversary of my mother’s death. Two days ago was the ninth anniversary of my mother being struck down by an intruder, probably some poor recently released from prison schmuck come to rob her of her meager supplies and money. I remember, when I was small, my mother told me that after she died she would become part of everything. The memory has, for some reason, especially a feeling of the sky, so today I talked to my mother in the sky, in the trees, in everything. I’m listening to one of her favorite pieces of music as I write. Forest Flower, by Charles Lloyd. There’s a lot to say, and there’s nothing to say. I honor who she was by how I walk in this life, because I know that despite our generational and personal differences, both our lives are about honoring life and experiencing immanence. Onward Rita, who/what/where ever you are...