In the Aspen Grove at Midsummer


“How does consciousness ever begin? How could that possibly occur? And is that question any less enigmatic than trying to figure how it might arise at a later date? Is consciousness synonymous with everything?”  ~  Robert Lanza

Consciousness seems like a good place to start this morning. The second cup of coffee has been ingested, so it seems that I do indeed have consciousness, if not only an illusion of it. I’m not sure there is a difference. You tell me. It’s quite windy and moderately cold outside at the moment. The cat, who is quite alive thank you very much, is moaning for food, which shall appear as soon as I have enough copy here to make me feel confident that I have produced an adequate blog post. And boy howdy I was significantly flirtatious yesterday at work. It was fun. I’ll try it again today. Full moon in Libra, don’tcha know. The potential for charm floods through my being like a warm wind through an aspen grove at Midsummer. My lust for life, though somewhat lacking this morning, is like  .  .  .  well, let’s just say that it is in the vicinity of that same aspen grove. With any kind of luck at all it will meander on into that grove, and then who knows what might happen. But, you see, I had better go feed that moaning cat. So mournful, so hungry, and very much alive, and thank you very much. Grateful I am. And the feelings of guilt are slowly fading. Forgiveness of thyself is a wise path to follow. Some things take time.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.



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