Sitting In An Empty Diner

Sleeping has become an issue of late. Dreams of constant deaths, usually murders including my own, are common now. I thought you weren’t supposed to die in your dreams?

As a result, I don’t look forward to evenings and very much look forward to mornings – which brings me to this empty diner so early in the morning. Just me and a waitress who is way too old to have to get up so early in the morning in hopes of receiving good tips in an empty diner. I feel sorry for her. I shall tip her well as I got a bargain on the senior special.

Detachment. It is something I have read much about, but really never understood until nearly every item I was attached to was burned up. I thought I understood, but now I know how little I really did. I have a dear friend who donated one of her kidneys this summer to a very ill friend. I think she understands detachment.

Here is one thing I have learned about detachment…photos and items that stir our memories about people and places and times – they sometimes interfere with us recognizing the true spirit of those people, places, and times. Lately, since losing all of that, I have experienced a much deeper sense of the spirit that lies beneath all the physicality those photos and items capture. I don’t think of my grandfather holding my baby daughter in that old lost photo in the same way … as a precious captured moment. I now recognize the immense connection of two souls, one getting ready to end their journey on this earth and the other one just beginning theirs. I never contemplated that until thinking back on that lost photograph.

This forced detachment is not easy and it is nothing I would wish upon anybody. It does however offer an opportunity to be more aware, more present. Yesterday as I was walking to get a cup of coffee, I saw three leaves fall from a tree. They fluttered, each taking their own path to their final destination – the earth, to be part of an never ending cycle of renewal – but they also danced with one another on the way down. I smiled. I am not a smile-er. Yet, I smiled at the utter joyful detachment of those leaves.

Well, I have eaten my scrambled eggs and one slice of French toast. Time to tip this vibrant, hardworking waitress and go out and see the sunrise.

God bless you.


3 thoughts on “Sitting In An Empty Diner

  1. Hey Gary. Three leaves dancing their own path. I love that analogy. When you talk about detachment. I was raised a Catholic and I like the writings of St. John of the Cross. His big thing was ” equal love and equal detachment”. Meaning just love the moment, it’s all we have. I have been rethinking that Catholic thing because of the child abuse. It’s a complicated world.


    1. I have been reading a lot of Richard Rohr lately. He refers to St. John of the Cross quite a bit. I am going to follow up on your suggestion. Not being raised Catholic, I know how disgusted my Catholic friend’s feel about the abuse and cover up. It it sort of another fire and loss feeling. Still, there are millions of kind, moral, disciples in the Church and hypocrisy is easily found wherever men(seems to usually be men) have kidnapped the message of Christ.


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