A pocket full of nothing...

I had awakened at 9 p.m. last night only to sit on the stoop of my apartment building and peer into the evening sky. I sipped a cold glass of water and quietly watched the leaves in the trees dance in the wind. In my khakis I was completely rooted to the concrete watching the neighbor's cat stop to observe my presence then patter away. I thought about impermanence. How the things of life do not always remain the same. Relationships change and end. Jobs come and go. My son can now lift me over his head and has a running vehicle in contrast to my now dead Nissan Sentra. Nothing special about this evening. In the silence; between the rustle of the wind through the trees there was nothing. The things I clung to so dearly and even those things I had been told I should hold to were no longer fixtures my mind had created. Gone. I searched for some remorse. On my cushion, like so many other thoughts, it was like a torrent. I remember the Heart Sutra and the interviews with the Ji Do Poep Sa Nim. "Cling to nothing..." What the hell? Another sip of the cold water and I sat for an indefinite amount of time. When I brought the glass to my lips and discovered a trickle I knew it was time for a walk. I blended into the shadows of the tree laden streets and allowed the cool of the evening to envelope me like a moist blanket. My feet are placed before me and I move forward slowly.