We'll just go on from here.

"We'll just go on from here." That's what Francis said after Sondra got out of her hospital bed a couple of nights ago and fell, of course, because since her stroke in late March, she hasn't been able to stand unassisted. The hairline frature to her femur will heal with less fuss than Francis had thought. So Sondra's third round at a NYC hospital will soon fade into her third round at a NYC nursing home, and with any luck--about this I am clear, this woman is in need of luck--she'll go home to the Village loft she and Francis share before too long. And we'll just go from here. Which really is all we can do, all any of us can do, regardless of our circumstances, and never mind whether we've been Zen pratitioners for decades or sat once and ran screaming from the zendo, never mind whether we're recovering Catholics or born again, Reformed, Conservative or Orthodox, kosher, traif or chazerai, Fundamentalist or assimilated. It's all there is. There's just here. There's just now. Thankfully, there is also just us.