A former coffee house queen and an old friend, at 27-years-old, has reinvented herself as a trauma nurse and an aspiring Buddhist. (I'll spare you her gory tales of caved-in sternums, shattered legs and minds lost with damaged brains). Yesterday, we took a long bike ride, from the top of Manhattan in the 200s, to the bottom at Battery Park, and then up to my little hovel in Harlem.
Legs aching, we dined on beer and chana poneer and veggie vindaloo. Given my recent and guilt-ridden trauma in splitting up a relationship that was clearly veering sharply from its path toward happily every after, we talked about human suffering. Generally, I think you have to take the bitter with the sweet in alternating servings. But my friend who sees people hit by cars, diseased and gasping for oxygen and needing comfort as they cling to life on a regular basis takes a spiritual view. She said suffering is something in the past or the future. If you focus on the present, the moment, suffering vanishes. It seemed to make sense, and I agreed with her.
She left late last night to bike back to her more spacious flat north of Washington Heights. On her way, the temperature dropped about 15 degrees (she was wearing shorts) and it started pouring down rain.
She called when she got home and said: "What was that bullshit about suffering being in the past or the future? Because, right now, I'm freezing and this really sucks."
