She hugged me yesterday. I thought I was over her, but maybe I’m still smitten. Physical contact does funny things to the mind.

I don’t understand why girls are so into hugging. Often, I’ll go for a handshake, and as if it doesn’t take, they’ll lean in to hug afterwards. A girl once asked if she could hug me after I explained to her my procedure for checking a cat before adoption. Figure that one out.

The funny thing is that most girls aren’t very good huggers. They give limp hugs — more of a pressing of the arms to the body — and it bugs the crap out of me. It’s like getting a soft handshake, also referred to as the “limp noodle“.

Bronwen’s an exception. I always give and get a bear hug from her when I see her and when she leaves. Sometimes we fight for arm positioning, because we both prefer to have the arms lower than the other. I like to have my arms around a girls’ waist, whereas she likes to have her arms surrounded, so she feels protected.

The two Louise’s are/were also good at hugging. Nice and firm, without being too clingy. Maybe it’s a Louise thing.

It just makes me wonder; if girls are so into hugging, why aren’t they better at it?

One of my daily rituals used to be lighting a joint when I got home from work, and riding off the weed for the rest of the evening. It was the only thing that could relax me; otherwise, I was tense and uptight. I couldn’t just sit and watch a movie, read a book, listen to an album without it because I felt too guilty, as if I wasn’t getting enough done.

For the first year that I quit, I missed it terribly. Not because I couldn’t sleep, not because food became bland, not because music didn’t sound as good, but because I couldn’t calm down. I was always trying to get things done, constantly depriving myself of pleasure to accomplish things without an end.

Following Taoism has changed that. Taoists value becoming as a child. Having no extraneous thoughts, and living in the now.

Unless stopped by adults, children live life to the full, whereas for most adults existence seems more of a near-life experience where we resemble actors rehearsing for a play that never quite begins, instead of playing fully, as children do, in a performance that has no beginning or end.

—Mark Forstater, The Tao

In doing so, I’ve begun to live every day as if it was my last. I don’t worry about running out of my good tea anymore, and just drink it. I don’t feel guilty about doing nothing, about letting my mind wander. I do what I feel like, when I feel like it. I’ve been able to let go. I stopped sweating the small stuff, and started enjoying life.

An ex-smoker once told me that the part he missed the most about smoking was the ritual. The early-morning-coffee or the after-dinner smoke. He felt a lot better after quitting, but if he found out the world was going to end in a week, the first thing he would do is go to the corner store and buy a pack of smokes. I used to think that I’d do the same with weed. Not so, anymore.

Not that I don’t miss it every now and then. There are certain things that can only be experienced through mind-tripping highs. It’s something I’d like to keep for special occasions. When I go to see Darren, or when John comes down, but even those seldom times aren’t worth it anymore. I know I’ll never do it again, but I don’t mind because I know I’ve been fortunate enough to experience it already. The important part is that I’m not dependent on it.

Taoist hedonism has set me free.

I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to find out you’ll be in town the day after I write about you.

The way the young man I just met is taking the same bus home with me. The way the friend who’s been lost forever suddenly shows up, packing your bags in the checkout line.

But I know it’s not a sign. It’s not some cosmic path, just the way things are working out. At least, I think so. My life has been filled with such occurrences, and I’ll be damned if it all doesn’t start to mean something.

See you tomorrow.