Dawn's Gentle and Encouraging Touch

Dawn creeps across Lake Ontario as I sit in contemplation of my accomplishments.

Soon this office will fill with people. We have all been working too hard for too long on our project. We have accomplished much, and my contribution has been fundamental. How would my coworkers react if they knew this quotidian effort barely registers on my list of accomplishments?

To share a friend's disappointed acceptance of the postponement of satisfaction of a fundamental need.

To love another friend as he expresses his frustration at an evening of painful social insolubility.

To follow, with all my might, the tortured traces of a beloved mind lost in a dark and dawnless desert of mental derangement, struggling, all alone, far away in Seattle.

I have worked forty hours in four days, and the work I've done is excellent; I am pleased. But this is meaninglessness compared to what I have had the pleasure of doing for my friends.

This demonstrates my purpose: to witness, to share, to understand, to perceive; to do these things the better by setting aside judgment and desire; to leave myself as open as possible to as much of Creation as possible.

Sometimes, when deeply tired or distracted, my reason dwindles; my judgment flags. But my will to fulfill my purpose never fades. It has been difficult these last few days. It has been a little dark. But I have been myself. I have made light where I needed it, and I have shared that light as best I can with others. May it always be so.

I must call my deranged friend. I must tell him that Dawn was here. I felt Her gentle and encouraging touch, and She has traveled on. Dawn will come to him, too, for She travels ever Westward.



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