As I say above, I {often} know not what I do. But occasionally stuff resonates, things seem clearer and we might sense a simple beauty that seems right, clean and bright.
Why did the chicken cross the road? Who knows?
I recall as a child enjoying a book: ‘Why does the glow worm glow?’ by E R Laithwaite.
I also recall, at about age 20, one evening in The Wig and Pen pub in Truro in Cornwall, an emotional alcohol fueled exchange about ‘the paralysis of analysis’ (do you remember that CS?).
Recently, after a few weeks soaking up a je ne sais quoi in the Vendée region of France, stuff seems brighter.
It’s one thing to ‘be aware‘ and police one’s habits and routines, (and yes, instinct can be flawed) but beware of PofA, a dearth due to dissection.
Yes, ‘Wake up‘ by any means but don’t stop living in the hope that you might find life in all it’s fullness elsewhere. The birds don’t stop singing to find true life.
To catch the sun’s rays a plant needs to open up.
Marvelously, glow worms simply(?) glow, especially in the darkest moments.
Dare I say, in the words of the Queen of Arendelle “let it go“?
Or preferably in the words of Van Halen “Jump!”
The children beautifully sing… tomorrow, tomorrow, the sun’ll come out…
The faithful simply sing… one day at a time…
And he packs his lunch in a sunblest bag,
the children call him Bogie…
and never thinks to mutter…
All you need is love?
My children and wife often display a simple beautiful unconditional love to me and I am most proud of them.
Why did the chicken cross the road?
Perhaps simply, because ‘she loved’ the other side?
Go in… Jump!
Jules P Richards 