tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3020960402708303830.post7407674441944287724..comments2024-03-27T07:30:21.457-04:00Comments on BLCKDGRD: It Comes to the Monk in His Cell, or: Born 100 Years Ago YesterdayUnknownnoreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-3020960402708303830.post-84142061825880476252017-10-12T09:04:46.188-04:002017-10-12T09:04:46.188-04:00speaking of
the child whose mother has passed out...speaking of<br /><br /><i>the child whose mother has passed out from drink</i><br /><br />as jane kenyon does<br /><br />i am reminded of the time, during the previous millennium, when the daughter of such a mother showed me a picture of the mother sleeping in such a state<br /><br />the young woman (in some ways mature beyond her years - not yet 20, but already a licensed real estate agent) presented it as something amusing, and did not overtly express her anger at the parent for her failure of care - nevertheless, i inferred it was there<br /><br />i also am reminded again of the zen story about the hypothetical happiness of fish<br /><br />https://i.pinimg.com/736x/69/06/32/690632fa0b5fc9bc7ef46fe8f66b34ff--chuang-tzu-zen-garden.jpg<br /><br /><br /><br /><br /><i></i><br /><br />mistah charley, ph.d.https://www.blogger.com/profile/06303695341246058680noreply@blogger.com