Sunday, November 23, 2014
Saturday, November 22, 2014
Thursday, November 20, 2014
Friday, October 17, 2014
Busy, busy, busy.
Drive. Shop. Drop him. Pick her. Get this. Buy that. Do this. Go there. Work. Office. Home. Career. Kids. Parents.
Oh how we love to pretend we're holding up the world.
Newsflash : We aren't. We're doing it all for ourselves.
The world would carry on just fine without us. But without the illusion of importance and urgency, we'll fall apart.
One day I'll have nothing left to do. And I know I'll hate it.
Friday, September 05, 2014
Monday, July 14, 2014
And I've spent all my life finding the key to this place. I find it for a while and then it eludes me again. It doesn't matter where I live or what I'm surrounded by. No riches can make me happy when I cannot find this place - and no ruin can upset me when I'm there.
In the final analysis we just live inside our heads. Unless we are comfortable there, until we are at peace with our soul, we will not be happy.
That's why I write, because writing takes me there. It seems to wash away the distractions of living, the worries, the hurries, and the rush of the ordinary and to connect me to myself.
It really is amazing that writing a few deeply felt lines can bring me more happiness and contentment than the most expensive gizmos, or the most outrageous amusements designed to entertain me.
When you get past the complications, past the self created sense of urgency, past the irrational voices in the head, life is actually pretty simple.
When I first started out I used to think that the only thing I needed was an access to books for the rest of my life and I'd be fine. And while I've done so much more and gone on so many more adventures, it has to be said that nothing grounds me quite like the written word.
Thank goodness for the small miracles of the ordinary everyday.