-Biography of Krishnamurti by Mary Lutyens.
I wanted to text Liz, but do not have her number on my phone. Perhaps I have a text from her. I scroll through them- Oh, I thought I had deleted those.
Did u get home ok yesterday? Good luck with jobcentre today! x
The jobcentre had not gone well. The woman asked how my jobsearch was going, and I burst into tears, making her look perplexed. Then I went home and cried some more. It was the morning after-
I did that just to show how foolish it is. I could tell you the story, and it would not be a huge effort to put into my voice all the emotion I felt on 21 November 2011. These things have served their purpose, let them be. I could tell you much misery, and a few successful battles with “Got the Bastard!” relish, from the CAB. Maybe I will, I might need them for job interviews yet, but I do not need that weight now.
I took the bus into Swanston saying my affirmation, and sat in Oliver’s for forty minutes waiting for R. It was OK, I had brought Advices and Queries to give to him so I reread that. I phoned a couple of times and got a voice saying “you cannot leave a message” so went off to Morrison’s, drafting a concerned email in my head. While I was there he phoned, and we arranged to meet in Oliver’s. He had slept in, having been awake with his depression in the night. I could have resented being stood up like that, but felt far better with loving concern for him and joy in meeting him. I tell him that I know that whatever situation he finds himself in, he will not be able to fix all the problems of the World, but he will take all possible action to ameliorate it.
Back to Oliver’s, where as usual we sort out the problems of the world, he expresses fear for the future of the planet and distress at the actions of humankind, I bring out my consoling quotes, such as Philippians 4:8, and indicate the strawberry in that pile of jam and cream on the scone, expatiating on my joyous anticipation. With your sense of smell, you can smell it too.
I have to go for the bus, being still full of the cold, and he says “I am sorry I have been so negative today, it is my depression.” But I will not let him get away with even that. I think if you were not so harsh with the world, or yourself, you would not be so unfailingly generous. “All shall be well, and all shall be well, and all manner of thing shall be well”- he joins in with that.
I tell you this not to boast of my virtue, but to share my delight in this way of being. It is so much nicer. And- oh, to boast of my virtue just a little bit. How cool it is to be me!