Sharon gives me orchids. From time to time, they bloom, as now
I find them quite beautiful.
Outside, snow falls on the sycamores, and I must change plans for the day.
The sangha meets today, and I will miss them. This results from my choice of vehicle, a bike instead of a sleigh. But then
I notice my guitar and delay, a step backwards from the Timeline I’ve been running for the last two years.
the old El Capistan limits me in a way that forces tension into the music. And I love that.
later in the week, Thursday:
I think about what’s been up for the last several days and why I cannot seem to finish the message above. I have had a lot to do: grocery shopping, doctors visits, yoga, showering, dog walking, laundry, dishes, cooking, some other overhead, nail clipping, etc and quite a bit I don’t recall. My memories of the last several days seems somewhat ambiguous, blurry perhaps, maybe unclear; I am unsure. Should I invest in one of those Hero cameras? This way I might capture more time.
I re-read and notice, there’s so many instances of judgement made in just a few sentences, and those judgements limit the way I view the world. They also drain the magic out every moment because they suppose that I already know everything, yet I know almost nothing about anything. Still, I cannot see this lack for all my knowing.
I am lucky to have flowers and music in my life, that’s for sure. But I notice so much more joy around me when I am less descriminating and more open minded. This is why I have an inexpensive guitar. It’s leaves room for me where there would be not so much, if I’d paid more for it. It’s like a tattoo; I wouldn’t have them if they didn’t hurt. Where is the sweet spot; can’t I just be close and let it alone from there?
The scarlet spots and yellow clash with the purple. I hadn’t noticed that until now. The colors are perfect that way, for how else could they be?