The sky is full of blue and white fluffy clouds. Energy is high as the summer progresses to its autumn conclusion. The old man appreciates life more each day. MJ and I were with Ron and Ira Kaye on Friday and had a lovely visit. I reflected on how much I have liked Ron since I met him at MJ and my wedding in 1978. He is a person who loves life. I do not think he has an idle bone in his body Ron has accumulated a vast travel book.

The years went by like a weaver’s shuttle. Good memories stand out. Such is our existence. We are here for a season then we are gone. It is up to us what we make of our time. None of us are perfect. We all fall short of our goal. We stumble we fall. We must get back up and continue the race.

Life is a Jenga Tower of blocks. We build our tower high then it crumbles, and we build again. Rebuilding is the answer. Ira Kaye said she liked my hair. How kind for an old man who has a massive bald spot. I have not resorted to a comb over my bald spot is not visible to those who are shorter than me. Change is inherent in the journey.

Empathy we need. Forgiveness we require. Growth comes from brokness. We are souls in a clay shell. Mylo is of better humor in the mornings. As the day progresses he is more irritable. He stares at me in the early morning saying, ‘Enjoy me now before the angry dog takes over.’

Addictions we battle. Assumptions rule our thoughts. Conspiracy theories circle the walls of our psyche. We walk through the swirling clouds of discontent. Life is purpose. Love is life.

Hurt we do. The pain we suffer. Understanding we seek. Time heals wounds. The milk of human kindness washes us.

Everything is not black and white. There is a lot of gray. Not only in my beard but in life. We must see our neighbors through the prism of compassion. We hope that others will judge us mercifully. Walking in another’s shoes is difficult. Shoes yield understanding.

Many African Americans have been my best friends. They were friends who did not forsake me. They cared little if I was on top of the mountain or underneath it. I was their brother. The richness of diversity in friendship is compelling.

Feeling good comes from the kindness of the eyes of those we meet. The help of another is a rich gift. Care from someone who gains nothing by the act is overwhelming.

We look through a glass darkly. The images are blurred. Is it Christ we see loving the woman accused of adultery? Hurried we are until we stop suddenly from a roadblock. Must we go around or climb over the obstacle? A friend at the top of the roadblock, with a ladder for our aid.

We seek it here we seek it there…heaven. We must cease fighting heaven on earth…