OK, I changed my mind. What is a mind for if not changing?
This morning, a friend pointed out to me that John Cavanagh had released his "A Modern Monk's Tale" to me on the day before he died. From other sources, I had been told in admonitory tones that the former Trappist monk was quite sick and that he was on oxygen 24/7... between-the-lines message: Don't bother the poor guy with trivial matters.
But I did bother him.
And for all my bother, Cavanagh took the trouble to email me a couple of times as I sought permission to get the tale (with the help of a friend) on the Internet. I was bouncing up and down with enthusiasm and awe and he was on oxygen 24/7, a man cheek-by-jowl with his own demise.
My friend's email noted the fact that it was only a day before his death that Cavanagh OK'd the release of his tale. With an exclamation point. How about them apples?! Implication for serendipity freaks: Cavanagh must have thought it important enough to rouse his energies one last time; that this was important; I helped him lay his burden down; I helped to kill him; and how fortunate we all were -- just imagine what would have happened if I hadn't been in touch... etc. etc.
My first reaction was to notice the fact but not mention it. Serendipity freaks tend to get caught up in the ooooooeeeeeoooo of things and miss the substance. I didn't want anyone to miss the substance of what Cavanagh had written.
But now I think, what the hell, perhaps the oooooeeeeeoooo will nudge someone towards a closer examination ... sorta like spiritual life: Walking on water, changing water into wine and other bits of spiritual fluff ... who knows what will encourage whom to serious up?