“To live without philosophizing is in truth the same as keeping the eyes closed without attempting to open them.” ~ Rene Descartes
“It’s hard to say what makes the mind piece things together in a sudden lightning flash. I’ve come to hold the human spirit in the highest regard. Like the body, it struggles to repair itself. As cells fight off infection and conquer illness, the spirit, too, has remarkable resilience. It knows when it is harmed, and it knows she the harm is too much to bear. If it deems the injury too great, the spirit cocoons the wound, in the same fashion that the body forms a cyst around infection, until the time comes that it can deal with it.” ~ Karen Marie Moning
“Real intimacy is a sacred experience. It never exposes its secret trust and belonging to the voyeuristic eye of a neon culture. Real intimacy is of the soul, and the soul is reserved.” ~ John O’Donohue
Once in a while there comes perfect coffee. When it happens at home, all the better. I’ve got it sussed this morning. There is nothing philosophical about this, nor should there be. The coffee is good; that’s what I am saying. For reasons I won’t bother to explain, this approach to today’s coffee shows me that my playful side is re-emerging after a rather difficult weekend. That and a clear view of the stars make all the difference. Usually, when things get stormy in my mental world, some time spent stroking or stoking my intellectual side will calm the buffer that has become stuck, full open, unresponsive. Too much input, and I can’t filter it out for a time, and the intellect seems to become such a sweet vestigial thing. An overload of this nature is best addressed by watching some TV, or Netflix, or whatever they call it these days. I’ll call it TV because that is what I grew up with. Recently I got into a brief chat with a millennial about some early 60s TV show. The climax of the discussion came when she asked me if the show was in color. Instead of giving a yes or no answer all I said was “We didn’t have a color TV until the early 70s”. The somewhat snarky part of that explanation, the part I left out, would have been ” . . . which is about the time your mom and dad were born”. Well, maybe her dad, and her mom came later. What is is with men and younger women anyway? Am I missing something? Ummmm, let’s not go there, k? Thanks, yer a pal. Now, going forward . . . the usual trepidations of going out into the workaday world are beginning to nip at my heels. No biggie. Happens all the time. Introversion, don’tcha know. I just want to mention a coyote visitation from last week that I likely forgot to share here. There were at least two of them, right outside the fence, barking and yipping away. And they lingered. It was intense enough that my usual joy in experiencing such a thing became measured by the fact that I felt a smidgen of fear, like maybe I should go back inside or something. I chose to linger, to soak in a bit more of the canid music, then I went back in. However courageous I was being, them pups were making me nervous; a wolf at the door sort of thing. And that’s okay, right? Right. Whatever. It’s time to publish this and get on to the more mundane part of my day. I realize that . . . . oh, never mind. I’m feeling soulful today, and fully able and ready to have a good time at work. That works for me.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.