“One by one they were all becoming shades. Better pass boldly into that other world, in the full glory of some passion, than fade and wither dismally with age.” ~ James Joyce
“As often as we made love I remembered what my poet told me, that this man was born of a goddess, the force that moves the stars and the waves of the sea and couples the animals in the fields in spring, the power of passion, the light of the evening star.” Ursula K. Le Guin
“Good story’ means something worth telling that the world wants to hear. Finding this is your lonely task. But the love of a good story, of terrific characters and a world driven by your passion, courage, and creative gifts is still not enough. Your goal must be a good story well told.” ~ Robert McKee
This peaceful morning is at hand, at last. Sometimes I just hold back on expectations for the day, especially on days when the anxiety and paranoia are running a tad high. During these early morning hours I feel comfortable in letting any forward thinking stuff linger instead in a somewhat amorphous state. As the time for work, at my job, approaches I allow things to fall into place. The day begins to take shape, and I am loathe to forget that I can also do some shaping by my own hands, even if only metaphorical. I mean, people are going to see what they want to see and hear what they want to hear, and the level of freedom this provides is nothing less than a miracle. People give you a gift with their blinkered, blundered, whatever, existence. Don’t ever forget that receiving people as a gift, and treasuring their presence, goes a long way toward actually feeling the moments of interaction rather than simply letting them run around in your mind like paparazzi on Adderall. As the Nobel Prize winning physicist, Richard Feynman, said, “What do you care what other people think?”. I try to remember this. It’s important. Say, is that too philosophical for this time of day? Earlier, philosophy is pretty easy to come by, because I am still half-asleep. Lack of clarity contains some clarity as well. It’s a yin yang thing. When you are half-asleep you are pretty much still dreaming with the other half. Hypnopompic: that’s what they call this half-awake state. A lot can be gained in this state, if you only remember that you are infinitely more than just a coffee sponge. Sigh, I seem to be pretty high-minded today. What the heck did I dream anyway? I woke up feeling good; no signs of flailing in my dreams. I don’t know, there seems to be a fair amount of Spring Fever involved, and a certain smile that glows full in the feelings the memory of that smile deliver. No expectations, no plans. I’ve not heard Cupid’s lyre, nor have I felt the prick of his arrow. It is simply a feeling. I’m all about feelings today.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.