It often starts the same way, with no thoughts and no direction. It’s almost like a prayer: I am open and willing to be led into the spirit of giving. Sometimes the thread weaves into a beautiful web, intricate and decidedly serene. Sometimes the wandering lust manages a coup, and away to the battlefield we go. Today, I don’t know. It seems like we’re just here. We’re here in the train going nowhere. The distance varies in theory, but the destination remains the same. It’s not the philosophy of present moment hogwash. It just the kiss of time as she breezes by. She leaves us with debris and belongings. I often forget to thank her for the living gifts. Today it is still and right. Each moment a fluid circle.
stillness
In the Absence of Ambition
Sometimes, the voices in my head are so loud, they come out of other people’s mouths. The “should” becomes the theme of self destruction. Wayward desires conspire to confiscate the joy of a passion or an honest vocation. If I heed the voices, hurled from surely loving directions, I may become lost in a dilemma of indecision, self reproach, even loathing. Yes, it can be turned against the host–an autoimmune anti agent of urgency.
If the throttle of messages is regulated, there comes a stillness, pervasive and persuading, to ease the force of steel will. A light and modest unleashing can then take place, in the absence of murderous ambitions.