Sifting through a way of life that works

I take a lazy walk through my mind and begin typing my thoughts. In a quiet home, with the cozy light shining from the lamp, beside my couch. With a calm and breezy go of it, like the wind that creeps through the windows, I have opened for just this type of thing...as the curtains, pulled shut, move with invisible breathe. In and out. Along the natural course of what happens when you blow gently onto soft, thin cloth. And I am amazed at the will that nature has to be herself. And that no matter the course of events in space and in time, she is what she is.

Have I been blind? Have I been lost? In the hustle and shake of the day to not see? And I know, here now...as the gently speaking bush brushes up against the house...as the chirping small birds have long since flown away or gone to bed. I know this: that I am glad for moments like these. That get me closer to the simple truths...that combined, make up the secret of a truly unique and intense appreciation for the moment.

There can be many days and minutes within those that pass. Unapproachable. Held off from the filter that sits in a passively aggressive stance...that looks to hold each thought captive. And evaluate. But it can't. Not in those moments when things press like the weight of a sledge hammer on paper. A great awakening is quieted by the duty of the moment. And so life is held off...cut off from fulfillment. As close as comfort...but distanced by the stiff arm of whatever it is that needs to be done right here, right now. Before we rest in the silence of the great Love that exists in a breathe and in a heartbeat, we must first let ourselves do more than merely survive the pressure of living with everything else.

And so it goes that we may be through with the past, but the past is not through with us. Change is a casual word we like to throw around in policy circles and business meetings that involve money or someone getting fired. But in a real sense, what happened today--the movement of our arms, the weight on our backs, the smiles or frowns on our faces, and the length to which we keep eye contact...all of these relate to the history that shows itself in every moment of this life we chose to live.

And we sometimes check everything and our checkbook before that...and make sure we have something to eat and that our favorite talk show is recorded, before we make a move to break free from the chains that we place ourselves in...to say no to the forces that keep us in the same place. to not be bound in chains to the past. that is a verse that cycles new life. and spawns motion. where there ceases to be motion.

And like a guitar that is played slowly by the clumsy hands of an old man, we all walk on the same sidewalk. and eventually, like the hands of the man, speak in bits of the the whole. making up this and that, practically and resourcefully picking our battles. strumming when others might feel we should chord. And pick up in the most unusual places. To speak. Of a memory of the things that we once loved like candy and the memory of chasing fireflies.

We are all unique. But mostly in our personalities. We share quite much else in common. And each one of us has to fall asleep. And deal with the quiet voices inside that tell a deeper tale. They speak the rich and wonderful things in life, that remind us we are indeed human and not animals. And even though those very same thoughts can tear us down, from time to time, I am thankful they exist...if not merely to remind of a time when space is filled with glory. And a moment can rush with the tall grass of a spring meadow.

I like an earthy earth. And I am casually ingesting its beauty from inside a room, looking out to the space beyond the window.