Not thinking.
If I am when I think, am I not when I don’t? That hasn’t been my experience. When I’m meditating, when I’m not thinking in favour of simply being, that’s when I feel most “me”. Absenting thoughts in favour of pure existence is my favourite kind of meditation. It’s also the one I struggle with most; my monkey brain loves to follow every random, … Continue reading Not thinking.
A fan of the tree.
I’m a fan of the tree. I have been since I was small. I love me some forest and I’m lucky; it’s only a stone’s throw away. My childhood home had a yard full of trees. In my memory, the backyard was an ocean of grass and forest. I visited recently: where I grew up is not far from where I live now. The backyard … Continue reading A fan of the tree.
Gone fishing.
Gone fishing. Or fishin’. I’m never sure. The point is, I’m going. Not fishing. I don’t fish. I’m down with lazily floating on a lake in the sunshine, assuming the sun ever arrives for more than a fifteen-minute window on the West Coast this year, but catching and killing something is far outside my comfort zone. Fish comes from Captain Highliner. Period. At any rate, … Continue reading Gone fishing.
There’s some anger (part two)
(Priorities (part one)) My least favourite part of writing is when I sit down to the sleeping computer and I can see my reflection in it. The more depressed I get, the harder it gets to look at myself. I told my counsellor today that I had an image of reaching into the computer and shredding every scrap of evidence of my online presence because … Continue reading There’s some anger (part two)
From Famine to Feast 