I'm kind of digging being in shock over my mother's death.

It's like a constant buzz.

Nothing matters. I cannot affect or be affected. Shit is just happening and I'm a spectator.

I've been in shock in the past, particularly when dad died in 1984. That was shocking. I didn't know personal tragedy until that time. I figure I was in shock for at least a couple of years.

Since then, I've had shock in my jobs, my marriage, my role as a parent and at current events.

But I've become better at being present so I'm enjoying this shock almost like a second-hand buzz.

To quote the philosopher Jeff Spicoli: "Far out."

I'm reminded so much of the teachings of Pema Chodron. She undertook the study of Buddhism after a difficult life. Her teacher was Chogyam Trungpa Rinpoche, no nice guy himself. She said she was tired of being knocked over, wave after wave, often unable to catch her breath. Chodron wanted the waves to stop coming. Chogyam, a cokehead alcoholic who was a Buddhist master, told her the waves will still come. She will have to learn how to ride them.

I feel like I'm riding, baby.

That's not because I've become a Buddhism master but because my body chemistry is protecting me with the shock. The human body is an amazing survivor. It will shut down certain processes so that the rest of the body can deal, including all those chemicals in our brains.

I suspect there will be a crash. Hopefully, I will be fully ensconced in a place good for me. But I'm old. I've crashed before. And I'll crash again.

Doesn't matter.

I have to dig this little window of bliss. 

Peace unto Ukraine and peace and bliss unto all of you my brothers and sisters.