8/11/19     Maine Woods / Rome / Belgrade / Great Pond / 6am

Being clean. Being alone. The need to be clean. To need to be alone.

It’s what’s missing or absent that is most noticeable. I used to. Used to do or think so many things. Now, No. I do think of her. No, not think, No. I see her. Mainly her face. Plain Jane.

She’s good. And God said so. What is Goodness?  What is that beauty that comes forth from Goodness? It’s not physical beauty yet it makes one so. Much so. Attractive. Deeply attractive. Richly. Fundamentally attractive. Fundamentally is an ugly word. As is core, and basic. Goodness is not an inner entity. It’s not a treasure within a chest. It’s not a heart within a cavity. Not a potion within a vessel. Goodness is not a power that overcomes its barrier. Not a filament shining through a bulb. Not a fragrance permeating a crystal. It doesn’t overcome its hiddenness. It’s as much going in as it is coming out.  And yet in truth it doesn’t go or come into or anywhere. It’s bigger but not in size. It’s an action within a state. A state within an action. Neither. Therefore. To write about Goodness is silly. To capitalize the word is trite. To name the concept is petty. To claim it exists is to misunderstand it contains any place for one to be beneath. It’s when and where and how and why she smiles. It is who smiles.

—Howard Hain