Thursday, March 12, 2009


Something reminded me of the moment in 1970 when I was at an intersection somewhere along the Alameda de las Pulgas, not far from Sequoia Hospital in Redwood City, California, driving somewhere north in my blue-green 1965 VW. R was in Vietnam. The car radio was on, as it always was in those days. Aretha Franklin started singing "I Say A Little Prayer." I wasn't someone who believed in God or said prayers, but I knew that Aretha understand how much love I felt for R and that I wasn't alone in loving someone that much. I can still feel the joy that song brought to me. For all I know, it was thirty-nine years ago today.

(Notice how Aretha and the back-up singers hold their hands in prayer as a Buddhist might before bowing or as someone in the tradition of Yoga might do as they said, "Namaste.")