I love you, O person who is unknown to me. That is what I send to you. I send my love. This is a rare thing to be able to do. I am not being paid for this but still I am sending my love.
When I was being paid, in the many times in my life where what I was writing was a product purchased by a company, such as all writing is when we are paid for it, I still saw my job as one of sending love out through the words. I wanted to do it in a funny and clever way but it was still an act of sending love out in words. I was still trying to cause delight in the mind. I was trying to give you the best of what I can do.
I know I have a gift. At times I have let this go to my head. At other times I have debased myself because of this gift, feeling I had to lower myself and not display this gift. I have my neuroses, my demons and wounds. But I also have this gift. I see and hear things.
What is next? I’m not sure. Oh yes, I remember now: Writing the column is a spiritual practice.