First of all, Happy May Day to all of you who celebrate it, and Happy Birthday to those born on it. As for the rest of you, a very merry unbirthday.
Some of you know that May Day is the equivalent to the American Labor Day. It's the day of the worker and we workers are not working today (at least in the factories, the restaurants and cafes are open). My plan for the day was to get up early (which I did) and go for a walk (which I didn't). It's a beautiful day, so far, with a blue sky and bright sunlight making the budding trees even more magical, and I really should be out there walking about, or at least, sitting in a sidewalk cafe drinking coffee, so I'll make this short: mayday, mayday, mayday, SOS,SOS,SOS: help me, I'm enjoying life. Shouldn't I be in some sort of existential funk? It is, after all Spring and I live alone. The ducks are paired up, the hares, the titmouses, and pigeons, and everything else that moves. Pollen is looking for a place to land, the world is mating.
Enough. I've done my part. There are two separate continua of this stream of consciousness. A male in Pennsylvania and a female in New York. Anything more would be dangerous. I'm going to rest on my laurels, and play the part of a zen monk until this body quits and I'm transferred to the waiting room. And now, it's time to drink coffee, or maybe eat ice cream. I wish you all a peaceful May Day, with no need to demonstrate or revolt against the regime. May you and your children all find comfort in their Buddha Nature.
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