Nostalgia.
Stopped by an old haunt for a beer after work today.
It's the place where I found my blues jam home for a while, when I first moved to Ann Arbor. I miss those jam sessions. It was one of the times in my life I refused to give up performance, even if it was always an experimental adventure every time with little to no rehearsal (who needs rehearsal anyway) which is actually what made it amazing.
I miss those days. So much busy chaos since then.
Still, a journey was born there that strikes several solid chords within my soul.
A soul's journey.
I met a fellow soul mate traveler there, those many years ago.
How many soul mates can a person have, for gosh sake?
I remember reading some Buddhist literature that explored the idea of soul pods, that we travel through many lifetimes with a cohort of fellow souls, a consortium of time traveling colleagues of sorts. Perhaps you know this idea? Consider its resonance now, as you read these words.
I chanced upon meeting a friend last week, as I walked to my car he happened to ride by on his motorcycle in Depot Town. That fella, I tell ya. One of those nice Buddhist boys, Ypsi's finest. He told me a light hearted story that eloquently healed my broken heart, just a little bit more than it was. A true healer is always healing others with simple actions and stories, even in a simple moment. A simple moment I had hoped would happen sooner than later, and it did.
It's also true I will need to invest in a motorcycle helmet in the near future before he sends that bike to the southwest.
Which, profoundly, makes me laugh, since my tattoos inspired someone to call me a biker a couple summers ago, much to my confused amusement (as I am not, given I've been on a bike I think.. once... so far in this lifetime, but it was, for the record, someone from a motorcycle club from Hell, so I reckon that means I qualify).
Ha. Ypsi just may make it possible for me to fall in love with life again.
God willing.
