from “The Gypsy Ashram”
Debra Robinson 10/4/2026
Intuition or what I call my “second attention”…
I was feeling the urge to end a ‘relationship’ of two years. I reasoned that it was comfortable and predictable, but ultimately limiting.
I was also beginning to realize that what society describes as ‘relationship’, with all that is implied, is not always what it seems…
This was an ‘assignment’…like it or not…which had run its course.
One’s soul feels a need to grow and to feel Life, not deadening routine.
My ‘second attention’ knew that leaving was inevitable.
My ‘second attention’ understood the purpose and parameters of the relationship.
My life was about to change in some important ways.
I could feel it pushing upward...like new growth.
While I was stalling for convenience and comfort’s sake, something had to give.
I began dropping hints, but they were persistently disregarded. I moved out of state. I tried to find the nice man another girlfriend.
One afternoon, as I was in the middle of our daily call, there was suddenly a clear sense of ‘Break it off NOW!’ Like RIGHT NOW!!!’…like it was shouting from inside!
I finally did the dreaded deed (as kindly, but firmly as possible). And as I did, I saw 3 men walking down the dock where my houseboat was moored. I felt a slight thrill at the sight of one of them. He glanced back over his shoulder at me, as well…like a small current of electricity had passed between us…
In an ‘It’s-not-what-you-think’ event, let me tell you what happened next…
𖥞
Gypsy Complexity...
That morning I had gone to a liquor store and bought a lot of alcohol...more than I would ever need and most of it was stuff I would never drink.
I wondered at my strange behavior, but I did it anyway…(second attention)
An hour or so later, the stranger came knocking and shyly introduced himself.
I invited him aboard and offered him a drink...and another...a little stronger than the first (very out of character for me). Somehow I wanted to keep him there…
(Was he cute? A bit flirty? My type?… Yes, he was…)
However, Second Attention was at work here...
Into the third drink, there was a small commotion outside as his friends, my dock neighbors, ran over to tell him that they had just got the news that his oldest brother had died suddenly and that his remaining brother (with whom he had not spoken in many years) was flying in. They were headed to the airport to pick him up.
“When you get back, bring him here!“ I fairly commanded. “I’ve got extra bunk space.”
My tense guest needed another drink...to calm his nerves.
On instinct, I kept his glass filled. I was the safe stranger that he could say anything to…
Out came some difficult family stories. His mother, with whom he had been close, had recently passed, as well.
He wondered out loud if that was her that he was seeing out of the corner of his eye at the kitchen sink many evenings.
It was…
And then, when his brother arrived, a strong drink was thrust into his hands.
I made small talk to ease the tension while waiting for the alcohol to take effect.
I then proceeded to get them both Irish stumbling-drunk. (they were, in fact, Irish, but I didn’t know that till later)
I got them drunk enough to open up, to cry, to share stories, to grieve...and to become brothers again…
I presided over an Irish wake without ever quite knowing what an Irish wake was... but some part of me knew!
As dawn approached, I laid them out where they passed out, covered them in quilts and walked the docks praying and amazed at all that had taken place...
True religion...
𖥞~~~𖥞~~~𖥞
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