If you hold all of the world in a paper cup, everything of value to you and you hold it in your hand…what if it leaks?
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If you hold all of the world in a paper cup, everything of value to you and you hold it in your hand…what if it leaks?
That’s the joy of every next day, right? If I get filled with the spirit – but leak — then I have the work of filling up again (and again and again).
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ohhhhhhhhhh how interesting, i’m not sure that I had intended to project that part of my ponder on this subject, when I chose the words to type.
I was coming up with an example in pictures for someone. You know? There are those who use the eggs in one basket thing. There are those that notice the butterfly and crush it in their hand, as they don’t want to lose it. There are those who choose what belongs in the cup, but don’t and can’t notice other things. Like, the cup is that pit, just endlessly empty or emptying. How to even understand what such a pit is, let alone to do anything about it. I think, in the conversation surrounding today’s post, that I thought that by being me I was communicating such enchantment and such joy, but perhaps I assumed too much.
I communicated a lot of concepts in that phrase. I thought they were outright..perhaps too riddlyish?
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I suspect our cup is leaking all the time. People are appearing and disappearing, our values are being held and let go, it’s a bit messy. Even with a ceramic cup it can get a little trippy, don’t you think?
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Yes definitely AND I can trick myself into thinking that I have a more or less fortified cup at any moment and YIKES, how could I not consider what would happen when I trip! (remember Elisa is perfect and NEVER –i mean yet i swear it God, trips on anything—-ha)
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