Wandering Along the Path: Right Speech

I'm reading David Sedaris' new volume of his diaries. It's quite reassuring, as many of his entries are a banal as my own, but occasionally I laugh out loud. He is vulgar, but it feels refreshingly honest that he exposes himself so ruthlessly. All his prejudices and quirks on display, which makes him so endearly human. And he admits to cowardice, quite bravely, I think. His emeshment with his family, the guilt, the judgement, the agony, the love, is so honest. An honest mess, you might say. He doesn't have one feeling, he lays claim to them all. And he is the absolute master of the serendipitous encounter, which is something that delights me in my own life. The revelations with a stranger while you're waiting for your car to be serviced. The talk with a dog owner while patting his beloved. The hug at the eye doctor's when you discover a woman your daughter's age is having eyesight problems from chemo for breast cancer, and your own daughter is dying from it. The giggles with a baby in his stroller just for the sheer joy of life. Sedaris is us.