A family friend from the good old days spent together has passed away, along with him and the whole group of friends who are slowly leaving us. We were the youngest. He was one of the dads. Extremely funny. Charismatic. A technology professor. A piece of my history is gone. When my sister's father-in-law died, he lived in the same building. He was also charismatic and funny. These people who set a good example for us—of decent people, hard workers, funny, lighthearted—are part of the interdependencies that flow through me. They are configurations whose absence is always felt. Every time those beautiful memories surface, a thorn is also born, crying out their absence. See? I talk so much about detachment, that there is no division, there is no "I". But these processes, emerging in their simplicity from the deep and clear background, are like drawings, unique and unrepeatable works of art. The cynical universe sees nothing significant in them. To that immeasurable Void, a family man who leads an honorable life giving moments of lightheartedness to those he meets is no different from a few atoms of inert matter. We see the beauty in everything that makes our passage on this Earth sweeter, as less dramatic as possible. Then I stop for a moment to think, and I need to do so to understand that even the admiration for this friend and for all brilliant configurations—which is even more exalted by the separation from them—is traceable back to judgments that are not ours but emerge from interdependencies joined with the fear (of our ego) that one day our own phantom architecture will also shatter into a thousand pieces. Regarding interdependencies, I must say that probably in a family where everyone is a criminal, such a man would have been considered a poor loser. For those individuals, a clan leader would represent a magnificent configuration and his disappearance would have caused the same grief. It is true, there is no "I" here; there are interdependencies that decide and choose what is beautiful and what is not. And granted, there is no objectively excellent family friend who had an exemplary life. There is only an eternally clear and deep Background, from which every known process emerges. And regardless of its path, it will return to flow.