October 20, 2006
The Eighteenth Dream: I am going somewhere, and I have a sense of impending amazement. My daughter Amanda comes to say the soup is ready. Her hair is wet, piled high on her head in a towel. She is on the phone with a friend, who is downstairs on the extension. Already, I am amazed. I am amazed by the worship and the breath moving in and out. By the movement as the bowl overturns across the table, By the sudden pain from nowhere causing me to close my eyes, to pause, to breathe deliberately. In and out.