consider the probable reality that all time is simultaneous

Melancholy season. The first year my Papaw is gone; the first year of Christmas with the family home sold. The first Christmas in many years I've gone to sleep alone, uncuddled. Boo-hoo, I know. But it is hard. And this morning I find I'd rather stay under the covers than begin any of the trillions of tasks I need done to complete the move and the preparation for grad school and... you know. Many questions arise, about the fragility of connections, the holding at arms length, Gangji's story of Papaji's open arms when they met the first time at the River Ganges; his saying to her, simply, "What took you so long!" and the caution we're conditioned into and how we step so lightly we miss a thousand opportunites for love; and "Thetan," the Single Gun Theory song with the spoken word semi-chorus under the trip-hop lushness that says to us, simply: "All limitations are self-imposed."