Excerpt from Trout Fishing in America by Richard Brautigan, ©1967:
I remember mistaking an old woman for a trout stream in Vermont, and I had to beg her pardon.
“Excuse me,” I said, “I thought you were a trout stream.”
“I’m not, ” she said.
Almost all of Richard Brautigan’s poetry and novels are available for free download from The Brautigan Archives.
They say there are no atheists in foxholes, but that hasn’t been my experience. My moments of loss and fear are the times I feel most alone.
I’ve read more religious texts than most, from all the major religions and quite a few of the minor ones, and they’ve helped make me a better person, but faith just isn’t the protective armor for me that it seems to be for others.
This has been a rather robotic existence since I lost my mother. I’m doing all the things I’ve always done– exercising, praying, eating nice meals, writing letters– but I’m not taking any joy in them. I just do them out of habit, and out of fear that if I stop moving I’ll never start again.
I’m trying very hard to live in the present. The past is gone, the future looks bleak, so if there’s any time to be happy, it’s right now. Still, I’m struggling.
There are people who depend upon me. I have responsibilities. I can’t let them down.
Hare was the creative force, Krishna was the enjoyer of the present, Rama was all about duty. I suppose I’m tilted heavily toward Rama at the moment.
“When you feel there is an unfair burden on your shoulders, that’s just the way it is sometimes.” ~Forrest Gump
That quote makes me smile. I wouldn’t say I have an unfair burden; people have helped me in the past, now I’m helping people in the present. That’s just the way it is.
“You keep going. That is the bodhisattva’s way. As long as it benefits even one being you have to, without any sense of discouragement, go on.” ~Rangjung Rigpe Dorje, 16th Karmapa (via)
Sometimes my posts are just little notes to myself, so I don’t forget.