Toronto, Ontario
Fighting A Cold
Fighting a cold, I decided to sleep in through the morning
program. I just had to. I didn’t want to disappoint the other members
of the ashram with my absence, but sometimes it is necessary for recuperation.
Fred came in—as he often does—to Govinda's, our
restaurant. "It's my day off,"
he said, with relief. He loves the food
at Govinda's. He also likes to chat
about the latest. He said it's an
anniversary of Charles Manson.
"During the summer of Love (1967), people kept their doors wide
open in the San Fran area, but after Manson, everything changed. Doors were locked."
My conclusion, and his as well, is that this material world can
be a dangerous place.
There were many interactions with people throughout the day,
including sitting down with a young couple and jotting down their marital
arrangements for September. By 9:00 p.m.,
it was time to hit the street. Who can
bear the heat of a summer day? I find it
tough. Night strolling is for me.
I made it to Bloor.
All was fine until the garbage truck came around to empty the bins along
the street. You know what it's like—the
stench—especially on a hot, sultry day.
I would rather get sprayed by a skunk.
A homeless fellow, somewhat unkempt but with a certain sex
appeal, accepted a woman's five-dollar bill, and as she was about to start off
with her male friend, the beggar asked her, "Will you marry me? He may be your boyfriend but that's beside
the point." The woman was all
giggles.
Thus ended my day.
May the Source be with you!
6 km
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