I haven't seen any of my deep dear friends - apart from the one who passed away six weeks ago - since before Christmas. But I just got a phone call from the Wild West and a very old friend is coming to see me tomorrow night with a bottle of malt, he says. Most synchronistic since tomorrow evening marks seven weeks since my partner passed away and seven weeks is the kind of official mourning time I've been doing.
Though I consider myself in the same religion as anyone who meditates, my guru is a Tibetan and they consider seven weeks as long as anyone spends between births.
So what with being on the Holy Isle at the start of the year, going through the bereavement and the seven weeks of meditations .... well, that's why I haven't been seeing anyone.
I'll start writing again, or at least do some writing business, from Monday, but I know these days that meditation is my obsession, so I'll just wait and see how I feel. I think living on my own I can probably write for three hours a day or so and still have at least six hours to meditate in. We'll see. Roll on Monday.
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