Begin

6/3/2018 7:36 PM

It is hot. Yet so, so beautiful. I am outside. Dusk is approaching, crawling through the streets and breathing in upon us with its damp, sticky breath. I can feel the cool touches of night’s promise, standing just beyond nightfall. I sit here, suspended in the moment. My surroundings fascinate me. Lounging here within the patio confines of my favorite coffee shop. My iced coffee is melting, but there are birds and a fountain to help me forget. I listen with my left ear to the sounds of life around me. The gurgling water fountain, the cars on the busy street, a plane overhead. Least not, my neighboring tables are all deep in conversation. Some keep light and cheery, a gathering of friends and giggles: small stories and recounts of local current events. Just one table over, a deeper evaluation of choices seems to be at hand. Perhaps father and son or mentor and mentee.. My right ear absorbs a sweet reverie of music beats which delivers me so neatly to other realms and times in space.

I am determined to write. To share. To share the world as I see it; hear it; feel it. What makes my viewpoint so special? Nothing. Nothing more-so than that it may differ from your own. But I feel drawn to share in hopes of bringing to others some insights which not all of us see daily. Vision is so inconsistent. In this moment it occurs to me that vision could well be likened to a muscle that requires proper training in order to see more clearly. Whatever it is we wish to see, we might attain with practice in the matter. For today I wish to see the beauty in the simplest things. All day I have watched the trees, the grass, the birds and sky. Now I watch the tree move above me; many small movements; sways and shifts, back and forth, up down, side to side. Not much of a breeze at hand, mystifying the image even more. It’s as though she could simply stand still no longer and had to wriggle her fingers around to say hello. The trick is to train this muscle of vision and strengthen it to see beyond the combustible moments. Moments that have been convoluted by fear, hurt, and possibly hardest of all, ego. But how?

This is the hunt I am on. It is a hunt within the dimensions of myself. I must know, what really makes me ME? It is not purely past nor is it fully future. Present particulars do not a foundation make, so it must be somewhere suspended in the mixture of these conditions that the epitome of my soul resides. I know not of the correct direction within, I only know that I must find my way there and learn all that I can along the way. I begin here and now; no clear path in mind, no set rules or guidelines other than to trust my instincts and chose what feels right while staying outside the confines of expectation. A straight path it will not be, and most likely I will arrive late. But I’m on my way.

 

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