I think that it was Henriette that left the title of this book with me but I could be wrong, so many great folks have come through here lately. You know it is the salon here at the Camino where people come and share great ideas all the time. But it is entitled Intoxicated By My Illness and that is by Anatole Broyard.
I just started it last night but it reads well and I should be able to get through it in a timely manner. It is fascinating, where most people find desolation the author revels in the situation. That’s what I want to see at this point. He is so blessed that he has the tools and capacity to express himself so. We will say more about it in the future, promise.
Somehow death has always seemed like it would be a dimming of life. We want to continue onward to another day but our capabilities ultimately fail us as our fire dims. But taking a cue from my cancer it is possible that a person as they approach death could grow so large, robust and wacky that they outgrow their venue like cancer does to the body. Maybe blast into another dimension!
I am so lucky to have options for my mind and spirit to fly to. There doesn’t seem to be a good reason to be small about things. Where does that get us anyway?
It’s a blast loving you, Felipé!