Autumn

I have just finished reading another good book. I have closed it and put it back on the public library shelf.

I mentioned to another reader that it’s like having an invigorating sail and then passing a promised coastal headland only to find unsettled autumnal weather and unknown deep ocean ahead, and it’s getting dark…

I’ve been reading about the mediocrity and escapism that we feed on between our ego’s competing, controlling and comparing. Our ego builds a shell around the soul…
The rhythm of life has a powerful beat, but habitual rhythms can be enchanting, comforting, familiar… but soulless…
The soulless sparkle of riches, the promise of glitter, of better, of whiter, greener, brighter, fresher…

Despite the distant clouds, inside us, the quiet depth of our soul can be a place of huge promise… our breath… continues an inspiring rhythm of incubation, our soul can indeed be a place of plantation and growth.
The more we become accustomed to the depth of our soul, the more we find ourselves at home within it.
I was of course born in the Autumn.

Happy Birthday me.