Wow, looking at that peppiness I’ve got to wonder what loud fiend wrote it, my eyes are still partly pasted shut and the second cup of black tea with cinnamon stick is brewing. Don’t listen to it, we are still mostly asleep. Part of the brain is hopping and skipping along unfettered by the sleeping rest. It looks a lot like a girl giggling and trouncing through waist high weeds and flowers, disturbed thistles floating by, glinting on the sun. She turns and smiles knowingly and knowing nothing, body tangled in long wispy auburn hair. Her skirt is hiked up above her knees so that she can look down and run freely while watching for mice. The rest of us would like to be back in the bed sleeping.
Have you noticed the rampant obsession with the word and concept of freedom that has once again repopulated itself like so many insurgents? If I were more awake, I’d go back and edit and remove the word freely. Would it be naive to think that if I simply began a campaign to remove the word FREE, and all parts of said word, that the world would be a better place? I bet we humans would find another thing to replace it!
“There is a language older by far and deeper than words. It is the language of bodies, of body on body, wind on snow, rain on trees, wave on stone. It is the language of dream, gesture, symbol, memory. We have forgotten this language. We do not even remember that it exists.
In order for us to maintain our way of living, we must, in a broad sense, tell lies to each other, and especially to ourselves. It is not necessary that the lies be particularly believable. The lies act as barriers to truth. These barriers to truth are necessary because without them many deplorable acts would become impossibilities. Truth must at all costs be avoided. When we do allow self-evident truths to percolate past our defenses and into our consciousness, they are treated like so many hand grenades rolling across the dance floor of an improbably macabre party. We try to stay out of harm’s way, afraid they will go off, shatter our delusions, and leave us exposed to what we have done to the world and to ourselves, exposed as the hollow people we have become.”
I found this while slurping tea. The word truth is like the word free. The first part of it is that little girl running happily along. The hook. What follows the feeling and idea of girl is made to appear as if it were dependent upon, and in union with the other. This is false. It is a wonder to me that one does not see others also noticing enough to write about it in a worthy manner.
Come sit with me and think. Enjoy the sound of summer thunderstorms and rain cascading from the eaves of the porch. You can hear the small stream rushing along to greet the rain in blessed dancing of union and the stones sighing in relief at the sight.
Until Next Time,