On the bus

I got a new dress in Dottie P. It is for my party on Saturday- ten years since I last pretended to be a man. Leave a comment if you would like to come, it is in Northamptonshire, I will email you details. I am really pleased with this dress, I find it flattering. Thence to Costas to meet S.

We were discussing that spiritual healing thing, you know, the one both of us would have thought was bullshit only a year ago.

-What is happening, do you think?
Well, there is this energy, God, life-force, something, in the Universe. I just open myself to it, it flows through me, it mingles with the energy in you. Opening up and balancing your chakras.

Then we started laughing.

It does not make a decision. I do not ask it and it consents, it just is, consent. It is there for us. I do not think I can spoil it, but my good intent seems to be a good thing.

Off for the bus.

The bus clanks down Market St and along Midland Road, and I look at the two blokes, about sixty, the one sitting just in front of me, the other beyond him sitting side on. I am thinking that if I believe in this spiritual healing thing, then I am a spiritual being- a soul with a body- and so are these two blokes. The sky is grey and there is a light drizzle, but both of them seem as if in clear light. Those individual hairs in the man’s crew cut are beautiful. 

Half-remembered from facebook, some guru or another said, if you can’t see God in the next person you meet there is no point in looking for God anywhere else. I read this stuff all the time, but- seeing it? Not so much. It is unusual for me to meet God on the bus. Nice, though. Added: Gandhi:

If you don’t find God in the next person you meet, it is a waste of time looking for him further.

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