In a few days, it will be my mother's birthday. She's not alive to see it. She died, alone, in bed last spring. So thoroughly had she isolated herself that she laid, undiscovered, for perhaps two weeks.



So, I find myself feeling restless and agitated. Work is fast-paced and I have deadlines looming, home is filled with the sounds and sights of the repairs, I've not been able to settle into any sort of rhythm.

For my mother:

How sad, the most kind mother
Wandering the three realms of Samsara
May she be led to the path of Avolokitashivara
Om mani padme hum hri