I slipped again. Down farther.  And it's just not on.  I can't turn it off.  Is off an option though? Does the depth of sadness I sometimes feel not have another side just as deep? Mary Oliver's 'In Blackwater Woods.' Tara Brach's talk on loving and losing. 

To live in this world
you must be able
to do three things
 
to love what is mortal,
to hold it

against your bones knowing
your own life depends on it;
and, when the time comes to let it go,
to let it go"

—Mary Oliver, New Selected Poems (Boston Beacon Press, 1992) pg. 177-178

I have been an outside observer, skirting on the lines. Reading and reading about meditation and yoga and even being signed up for my yoga online for ages. But not doing it. Not doing the work. I haven't been doing the work for a long time.  Its like that all faded when I stopped caring really how I looked or decided that I'm past it, it's too late, at this stage I'm so used to being single that I would be uncomfortable as a 'we.' I've been sitting on the sidelines, desperado on a fence, and if all these moments make up my life, I'm spending far too much of it asleep, whether in bed or on the couch or working.  These moments that have made up my summer of '14. 
This moment is different.