To mine my time, pickax dragging behind me, but that is a metaphor too heavy. I cannot go down time tunnels this day.
Does the sea oat ever hesitate? Consider saying no to the breeze blowing by? Like water through rock I think not.
And in a moment, my mind’s eye leaves the sand of the sea oat for stream side, water and rock in solitary flow.
Water gives life to the 10,000 things and does not strive….*
Mine is not the soliloquy of water through rock, not yet. And when it is, will that be my enlightenment?
As is often true, it is a smile that shocks most, and I return to the moment I have, even if it is not the one where my mind rests, not yet.
I am fond of revisiting my day with the sea oat as much as the mountain stream, both moments years ago, maybe because I no longer struggle to stay. I see them for what they are, side trips, okay time tunnels, ending in the moment I am in, this day.
And the pickax awaits as household chores, working on my book,or both but it has lost its heft of a moment ago. Together we flow, bend, move through.
Openness is like the wind.
If you open your doors and windows,
it is bound to come in.
*(Tao Te Ching, Verse Eight)