I have always had problems going to sleep.  When I do get there I like to stay asleep.  The older I get the more I have to get up in the middle of the night to go urinate.  Then sometimes when I get back to bed the insomnia hits me again.

I think about the stupid things I have done in my life and the things I am ashamed of having done.  This morning while I was sitting Zazen (see other older blog, I forget the date, just read my blog or look it up on line) I decided that I was going to make a journal.  Every bad thing in my life I was going to write into that journal.  And when I get to the point that I can't remember anything else to write, I am going to bury that journal in my garden.  No, maybe I should burn it.  First I am going to jump up and down on it, and then I'll decided what to do about it.

Really, I should not allow it to remain intact.  It should perish.  Maybe I will research how to best destroy all the negative consequences in your life.  There is probably something on line.

I began the journal this morning.  I wrote about when I was a child of perhaps nine or ten years of age, I pushed my little neighbor, Billy L., down in the road for calling me a "sissy".  I was such a tomboy and that was the worst insult I could imagine.  They had just farmer paved our street and so it was sticky and gooey with tar and little bitty gravels and cinders.  I remember his knees were soiled and battered.  They were bloody and black.  He probably wore those ebony scars for many years.

I have surfed Billy L.'s name trying to find him to apologize.  I found one with the same name but he said it wasn't him.  He had a sister named Gloria.  Wrong Billy L.

So this incident is one of the worst things I have done in my life.  I can't just forgive my self and go on.  I must continue to chastise myself every time I think of this episode.  Maybe I should rent one of those airplanes that write in the sky and have him write, "Please forgive me Billy L.".

Another bad but not so drastic mistake I made.  I had this most excellent photo of me and this wonderful statue at the Milwaukee Art Museum.  I tried to crop it so it was a closer look and I screwed it up and got another photo on top of my right arm.  I loved this photo of me. Addi returned to the museum once and took her own photo of her and the statue.  I was jealous.  I must return to this museum.  (My hips look more like the statue now anyhow.)