Loss

I'm losing my hair; it's coming out in clumps. After washing my hands, I absent-mindedly swiped a wet hand across my crown, and my fingers were coated with it. "It's just hair," I told myself, but I and my spleen are feeling more metaphoric. It reminded me of other losses, and choices not made, or made carelessly. I was full of September thoughts.

Recently, I've been listening to a recording of a guided meditation called the Metta Bhavana, or cultivation of "Loving-Kindness." Loving-Kindness is, to perhaps oversimplify, compassion, patience, and understanding. In the meditation, the practitioner is asked to imagine wishing wellness, happiness, and freedom from suffering to oneself and to others.

Especially now, it is helpful for me to remember how universal is the experience of suffering. As I rode the train home tonight, I looked at the faces of my fellow passengers. Some were expectant and relaxed, and others careworn and distracted. And, I realized how much company I had (alas) in both my illness and my regrets. My fellow passengers.