Saturday, November 12, 2005
Saturday Nov. 12, 2005 - Year 3, Day 237 - joy around the corner
-1C / 30F, overcast, much grooming required as Gusta came back with a bur collection
I saw ‘Wingfield’s Inferno’ with AW last night, # 6 in a series of plays about Walt Wingfield’s exploits . . . the premise is getting a little tired – amusing, but not as good as the previous ones, but good company made up for the play’s shortcomings
check out: http://www.banderasnews.com/0511/nb-festivalopener.htm
waytogo KT, your first published piece from PV !
my head busy, racing ahead with my ‘day ahead things to do challenges’, hard to pin down this thought to explore it; I was intent on returning home inspired to write this piece + my speech for this week’s Toastmasters meeting; I liked the walk but found inspiration harder to summon than usual this morning
I think, whether we walk or fly or sail somewhere, our lessons appear to be less in the trip as much as they are in the process of seeing things through different eyes, seeing things from a different perspective
but that is just window dressing
just an illusion disguising what we learn
whether we travel on a path near home or a far off beach or golf course, what we see - what we have the opportunity to see – is ourselves
when I see myself walking, distractions of dog behaviour & landscape crews aside,
when I see myself observing how much trash blew in, mingled with leaves summer left behind those observations matter little
what matters are my thoughts & intentions of today, the experiences I’ve yet to have
observing that which is left behind that cannot be re-lived, re-constituted or repeated serves me little more than to keep me in some past place a little longer; to smile at memories & mourn losses, but all I can do is replay & replay the past – changing nothing
the past is passed
the future uncharted
like skiing down a mountain, when I turn my head to look in a new direction, my body follows; as I turn again, my course corrects never to be the same as the last run – no matter how hard I try to re-live it, re-trace it or experience again the thrill I had
the greatest joys are not behind us, they are in front of us; the next corner has a surprise around it - I can’t wait to get to the corner
to those who know me well & try to read between the lins, this is NOT a subtle reference to some woman named Joy, but if there was a live Joy around the corner, I’d not change a syllable
for now I’ll expect my joy around the corner may be an experience, an idea or maybe a live person . . perhaps someone to call Joy
Mark
342,008
I saw ‘Wingfield’s Inferno’ with AW last night, # 6 in a series of plays about Walt Wingfield’s exploits . . . the premise is getting a little tired – amusing, but not as good as the previous ones, but good company made up for the play’s shortcomings
check out: http://www.banderasnews.com/0511/nb-festivalopener.htm
waytogo KT, your first published piece from PV !
my head busy, racing ahead with my ‘day ahead things to do challenges’, hard to pin down this thought to explore it; I was intent on returning home inspired to write this piece + my speech for this week’s Toastmasters meeting; I liked the walk but found inspiration harder to summon than usual this morning
I think, whether we walk or fly or sail somewhere, our lessons appear to be less in the trip as much as they are in the process of seeing things through different eyes, seeing things from a different perspective
but that is just window dressing
just an illusion disguising what we learn
whether we travel on a path near home or a far off beach or golf course, what we see - what we have the opportunity to see – is ourselves
when I see myself walking, distractions of dog behaviour & landscape crews aside,
when I see myself observing how much trash blew in, mingled with leaves summer left behind those observations matter little
what matters are my thoughts & intentions of today, the experiences I’ve yet to have
observing that which is left behind that cannot be re-lived, re-constituted or repeated serves me little more than to keep me in some past place a little longer; to smile at memories & mourn losses, but all I can do is replay & replay the past – changing nothing
the past is passed
the future uncharted
like skiing down a mountain, when I turn my head to look in a new direction, my body follows; as I turn again, my course corrects never to be the same as the last run – no matter how hard I try to re-live it, re-trace it or experience again the thrill I had
the greatest joys are not behind us, they are in front of us; the next corner has a surprise around it - I can’t wait to get to the corner
to those who know me well & try to read between the lins, this is NOT a subtle reference to some woman named Joy, but if there was a live Joy around the corner, I’d not change a syllable
for now I’ll expect my joy around the corner may be an experience, an idea or maybe a live person . . perhaps someone to call Joy
Mark
342,008
