little things.

"people don't love each other at our age, martha. they please each other, that's all. later on, when they're old and impotent, then they can love someone, really. at our age they just think they do. that's all it is." albert camus, 'a happy death.'

while sitting with a much younger friend in a local coffee shop, a woman wandered wistfully in and soon somehow struck up a conversation. from a small town in british columbia, house-sitting in chelsea, she admitted to a certain feeling of alone-ness. she engaged my friend, so to speak, in a discussion of their respective hopes and aspirations while i surreptitiously sipped some strong coffee. eventually she did turn to me, and said: "you must be retired." i agreed, and so ended my part of the conversation. clearly there was nothing more to say. i am retired... says it all.

my most gratifying connection with women these days is during unpleasant medical procedures. like the female doctor at a clinic in ottawa who insisted on giving me a digital rectal examination. hey, it was a shock, and i did suggest we have dinner first, but i soon gave in. like the nurse during the long-anticipated ankle appointment who instructed me to take my pants off. who was i to argue, even though a simple pull up of the pant-leg would've sufficed (?) i had a biopsy performed on a tiny imperfection on my formerly fascinating face during which the nurse held my hand. i felt there was something deep happening between us, although i've been wrong before.

many people might consider getting to the 'retired' stage in life kind of sad, but not me. my romantic life has been such that this is actually a step up. i'm a happily aging guy. i find myself looking forward to the next problem. the reality is that love and affection abounds, all arounds, and one must appreciate life continuing to offer up opportunities for us to connect. it's a pleasure in the purest sense of the word. if one could actually realize, recognize, cognize that thread linking all the beads together, the sap coursing through all the leaves, the water permeating the waves, how could one ever feel alone (?)

"in the sweetness of friendsip let there be laughter and the sharing of little things. for in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed." khalil gibran.