I woke before dawn this morning. Only a few birds were beginning to make the sounds of light. Sleeplessness is not an uncommon experience in my life. Insomnia has plagued and tormented me since I was a small child. It was not until I started to sleep in the same dwelling place as Attila that my sleeping patterns acquired a gentle and forgiving rhythm.
But these are times of change, and change brings restlessness. It is my good fortune that the current change is one of season. There is no catastrophe here; there is no crisis.
This change is one of bone and blood and spirit. This change is an arrival, and a parting. Maturity has waited patiently for many years and welcomes me now with open arms. My youth steps gracefully into the background, leaving me alone upon the stage of my life with an unwritten script.
Part of the process of moving forward is remembering and honoring the past, paying homage to the circular nature of existence.
This morning my mind journeyed to places in the past where I was not happy. From this distant present, there is compassion for the foolishness and misfortunes of my youth. Remembered are the closed doors, the glass walls, and the unsmiling smiles of the gatekeepers. So it was and perhaps it always will be, how much so depends upon the starting point, where you journey, and how stubbornly you hold to personal integrity.
I do not regret journeying to the great wall of civilization. The years spent searching for the doors of light were filled with wonder and despair. I journeyed the halls of wisdom as an unknown vessel and as such I was welcomed. I achieved and I succeeded by the standards set by man.
The door I sought was one of truth and enlightenment. I did not find it. What I found were humans who had risen above their fellows in glory, emperors with no clothes surrounded by attentive and silenced children.
My mentor offered me advice, thee said, "Don't trust anyone."
This I could not do, for it is in my heart that anything built on distrust is not worth having. I chose not to spend my days where trust is a mark of foolishness. I found myself unwilling to speak in audience-tailored sentences. Perhaps I am the fool, perhaps not; many believe it to be true.
My career ended suddenly. "Friendships" evaporated.
The world where I live now is full of children, loud, vociferous, laughing children of many ages and nationalities.
I trust them to be themselves; what else is truth?
I have added a new Gallery to my Photography pages. Have a look. I hope you will enjoy it, as it certainly was fun to create. You can find it here: Dogwood.
|RECIPES :: Cast
By the Easy Chair
by James Joyce
Wind in trees and Attila in the kitchen.
4:22 PM DST
Temp: 11` C
Wind: NW 17 mph
Sunrise 6:04 AM DST
Sunset 8:36 PM DST
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