“The work of each individual contributes to a totality, and so becomes an undying part of the totality. That totality of human lives, past and present – and to come – forms a tapestry that has been in existence now for many tens of thousands of years and has been growing more elaborate and, on the whole, more beautiful in all that time… An individual life is one thread in the tapestry, and what is one thread compared to the whole?” ~ Isaac Asimov
“Flight of dragons, heavenly argosies
Catch the wind, rise out of sight
Flight of dragons, pilots of fantasy
In the sky or in my mind” ~ Don McLean
This morning feels like Sunday. I’m down with that. Sunday is not my favorite; never has been. And it is highly unlikely to ever be so, except maybe if I, by some infinitesimal chance, were to fall in love on a Sunday, and then who could blame me. Frankly, I’d rather not fall in love. I’d rather it be a gradually procession into discovery. But I don’t reckon it could happen anyway, not at this late date. And the gods would have to be seriously bored to make it happen – and I’d be like, dude, seriously dude? Hey, are you g’wan a tell me it’s never too late? Best get to it then. You’ll feel better for it, even if you already feel right fine to begin with. But me? I’m like never say impossible. Never say never. Geez, I am feeling philosophically cranky today.
The sky is hanging low, solemn gray clouds hover and swirl around 10,000 feet. I like it. There is a harmonic resonance to it; internal and external vibes, subjective and objective actualities; it’s all good. So, what to do? Two days off, under way, so I can put off the laundry until tomorrow. I had a revelation recently, and it felt kind of musty when I discovered it, so somehow, some way, I have to get it out and air it out. Friggin stale shadow stuff. It was a conversation between a man and a woman; pretty much light-hearted. At one point the woman said “all men are whiners”. Here is the kicker: I became instantly depressed, and I physically, spontaneously turned away from the people, as if . . . I don’t know, just as if. What’s up with this? This trite little tidbit has probably been around since Hector was a pup. Makes me want to go out and whine. But that was her stuff, not mine. I consciously decided to stay out of the conversation, afraid that I might tell the truth. If I even knew the truth. So don’t look for any profound declaration or epiphany from me. I grieve for whatever part of me it is that was so hurt by this. If I can find it I can fix it. Compassion, don’tcha know. Geez, I think I might take a long drive today, just for something to do. The highway up to San Luis (the oldest inhabited town in Colorado) is a sweet, straight, simple drive. I like that town, and the scenery along the way, the grand, majestic expanse of the San Luis Valley, provides world-class beauty. The town of San Luis has other benefits as well. Yeh, there’s a nice little gift shop there. But whatever I do today I should probably get out of the cat’s fur for a while. She gets testy when I am in a down-cycle. I love my cat, BTW.
Peace out, y’all