Winter\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 New Moon of the Cold Month<\/p>\n
Last Monday night I ate dinner with my friends, six of them, at a restaurant, the Bukhara, which carries on the Mughal influenced culinary tradition of Northern India.\u00a0 On the way home I got a gut check on my world view.\u00a0 There was a light snow, the temperature hung at zero and the lights of other cars and trucks reflected off melted water on the highway as I headed toward Coon Rapids.<\/p>\n
Near the intersection of 494 and Rockford Road some part of me, a deep part, reached up and said, your friend’s wife may die.\u00a0 That part went on, speaking in images and feelings as the deepest parts of us do.\u00a0 The reflected highway, a skidding truck, my death.\u00a0 What then, Charlie, it asked?\u00a0 What then?\u00a0 Another aspect of my Self, perhaps even the same part asking the question, raised up an image from an old movie about Rome, The Fall of The Roman Empire.\u00a0 Why?\u00a0 What?\u00a0 Oh.\u00a0 Alec Guiness.\u00a0 Marcus Aurelius.\u00a0 A principled man, a Caesar, a Stoic.\u00a0 The author of the Meditations.<\/p>\n
How did this relate?\u00a0 The epitaph.\u00a0 Reported as the most popular of ancient Rome:\u00a0 I was not.\u00a0 I was.\u00a0 I am not.\u00a0 I don’t care.\u00a0 Stoicism and a principled approach to this life.\u00a0 Cast aside the final, eternal question.\u00a0 Unanswerable.\u00a0 Unknown.\u00a0 Most likely unknowable.\u00a0 Still act.\u00a0 Still live.\u00a0 Still care.<\/p>\n
The windshield washers snicked, dirty water thrown up by vehicles in front of me cleared and I was back on the highway, headed toward 694.\u00a0 And I knew.\u00a0 Yes.\u00a0 The deepest part of me knew, too.\u00a0 Yes.\u00a0 This life.\u00a0 For all I’ve got.\u00a0 This one.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
Winter\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0\u00a0 New Moon of the Cold Month Last Monday night I ate dinner with my friends, six of them, at a restaurant, the Bukhara, which carries on the Mughal influenced culinary tradition of Northern India.\u00a0 On the way home I got a gut check on my world view.\u00a0 There was a light snow, the temperature … Continue reading Gut Check<\/span>