Into the fall

by tamarjacobson


[click on images to enlarge]

Quote of the day:

I want to express my age and be authentic. Why do so many people follow somebody else’s idea of what is attractive? Diane Keaton

I once knew an older woman from China who taught me to run my fingers through my hair with strong, firm, deep, massaging strokes one hundred times each morning. Sometimes I remember to do it. And as I massage my scalp I feel my eyes opening and waking and I find myself sighing deeply as if releasing the tentacles of stress that have begun to nestle and settle into my brain.


This time, my travels took me on more than just a journey of conference meetings, presentations and networking. I was faced with some difficult news from a most dearest friend. And a sadness has been accompanying me these past few days. [I think that Dean might term it melancholy.] A sobering sadness that pushes me face-to-face with life’s realities, my own mortality, and a reminder that time is running out. Is it autumn? So soon? Dear, darling friend. My heart is bursting with love and each tender memory of our friendship rises to greet me hour by hour, moment by moment, interrupting me even in the midst of whatever it is I am doing or saying.


[Reflections on a bean … I met two beautiful young people … there we are, the three of us … can you see? And he e-mailed me a picture he took, there and then, with his iPhone but, alas, I must have given him the wrong e-mail address for I never received it … too bad, too bad, for their kindness was healing for me that day … and we disappeared out of the reflections and into the night, our separate ways …]