Simply a Prayer

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“Well,” said Pooh, “what I like best,” and then he had to stop and think. Because although Eating Honey was a very good thing to do, there was a moment just before you began to eat it which was better than when you were, but he didn’t know what it was called.” ~ A. A. Milne

“I turned silences and nights into words. What was unutterable, I wrote down. I made the whirling world stand still.” ~ Arthur Rimbaud

“What we have forgotten is that thoughts and words are conventions, and that it is fatal to take conventions too seriously. A convention is a social convenience, as, for example, money … but it is absurd to take money too seriously, to confuse it with real wealth … In somewhat the same way, thoughts, ideas and words are “coins” for real things.”  ~ Alan Watts

“Secrets, silent, stony sit in the dark palaces of both our hearts: secrets weary of their tyranny: tyrants willing to be dethroned.” ~ James Joyce

Hands stiff, neck stiffer. Oh, and how about the middlin’-sharp pain in both temples? Eyes rough, worn through, like threadbare wool. Ouch. I can’t complain, however. No one will listen. Relax. That was all just a description, cast forth from a fair approximation of mindfulness. It is the hour in the night when morning is only thinking about it, not quite here, not quite sure. Last I looked there was a break in the snow, a trough between one wave and the next. It’s only about an inch, so far, there on the deck and ground. Here in the thick of a worrisome drought that inch could be a mile. It’s moisture, it’s water. This is Northern New Mexico. People have been killed fighting over water. The point is that, as a man in the thick of social interaction that ain’t digital, I have not heard complaint number one, as far as the weather goes. But complaints in general? There’s always that guy who complains about not being heard when he complains: “Can’t complain, no one will listen”. I don’t recall ever hearing a woman say that. It’s always some guy. And I just want to reply, “What did you say? I didn’t catch that” –  but it is never a good idea to piss off someone who is merely trying to be clever. Now, I think I will step outside and sit a spell, and check out the snow. Bisy backson.


It’s nice out there. The night is imbued with that sweet snowy stillness and softness. There has been no more snow. The temperature is 23º, humidity 72%. I couldn’t stay out there long. I suppose I could have worn some socks, but bare feet are part of the experience. My workdays are spent in company of people. As an introvert and empath I can often take a beating out there. Away from that scene I like to take it slow, and to intentionally experience some of the sensuousness of Nature. Sometimes it is simply a prayer to feel the exquisite cold air against the skin of weary feet. It is simply a prayer to walk barefoot in the snow, which I will do before moving forward into the workday. I know, I know, walking barefoot in the snow?! “You’ll catch your death of cold”. Nah. On the contrary.

Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.

 

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