And There Will Be Days Like This =

 

                                         I truly miss our daily walks around Golden Gate Park.

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"It is no measure of health to be well adjusted to a profoundly sick society."
—J. Krishnamurti

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And There Will Be Days Like This

—for Munira, and the tooth that snapped

Intro:
Some days are reminders. Not grand revelations, not thunder from the heavens—just a snapped tooth, a piece of hard news, and the world spinning exactly as it always has. But something in you changes. You see clearly. And even if nothing is resolved, the veil thins, and the truth stands quietly in the room with you.

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                                        I miss hanging out in the cafe in the Mission District of SF.

Yesterday, I lost a front tooth biting into a peanut.
No pain. Just a crisp snap—and suddenly, the mirror said it clearly:
You’re falling apart, old friend.
No longer the man, women turned twice to see.
Now comes the dentist, the drill, the cost, the quiet indignity.
A mundane event—but utterly grounding.

It reminded me of something J. Krishnamurti once said,
back when I first stumbled upon his book in Green Bay, Wisconsin:
"You cannot change the world, but you can change yourself…
You are the world."
And so, I sit with that. Again and again.

                         You have no idea what life can turn you into until you've lived in the Mission.

Far be it that I intend to change anything beyond myself.

But when I look out—from every angle, every level—
I see pain.
Suffering.
And at the root of it: Greed. Hatred. Ignorance.
Not hidden, but few dare to see it for what it is.
I am just one of them. Still waking. Still weeping.

Then today, my daughter told me that Munira—
her closest friend, and my adopted daughter in spirit—
was hit by her own father.
She almost made a police report.
And I just sat there, silent. Still.
But inside… something broke.
Another veil dropped. Another layer gone.
No shock. No resistance. Just… Such is.

                                                I was once a Homeless man in San Francisco.

Meanwhile, Thailand and Cambodia prepare for war games.
Another theater of death and destruction, another killing fields, dressed as strategy.
What are they rehearsing for—genocide?
And in whose name?
Who benefits 

The King of Thailand will bear the karmic consequence as a Buddhist King; He has it in his power to stop this nonsense!

Sometimes it feels like the world is on fire and
We're being handed violins.
But I do not wish to save it.
Only to see it clearly.
And in seeing—perhaps—become something else.

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