"That's what carbon-based life forms do."

or Mindfulness By Any Other Name....

On the phone after asking how my post-surgical dog is, my dad told me he was going to ruin my day. He has a brain tumor.

We talked for awhile about symptoms - his vision is not good, which he realized after he had cataracts removed. Later in the conversation he said, "People ask why these things happen. Why? Because that's what carbon-based life forms do. They break down after awhile."

After the second opinion, which brought a poor prognosis, he called again and at one point said, "Look, it's better than Alzheimer's. It's better than watching your kid die."

He's a fatalist but somehow that becomes faith. Grounded, tethered to reason and sanity, and spiritual all at the same time. His cynical atheism, which should in theory lead to despair, somehow creates grace.

Speaking of grace, I realized tonight that I don't feel punished or sorry for myself. It just is. The focus of my spirituality isn't how pain is created. Whatever love there is in the universe can whisper quietly or hold me in its arms.

A song with the cadence of a waltz came on my car radio - and I realized I have been dancing with sorrow. In and out, forward and back in some primordial rhythm - gently. Oddly comforting.