Without rain there would be no life.
John Updike
,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,
Hello dreamer.
--------------------------------------
I like the rain.
Rain: the grand metaphor for sorrow, trouble, depression, frustration and inconvenience. "Into every life a little rain must fall." "Don't rain on my parade." "Rain, rain, go away, come again some other day." And so on, and so on. We run away from it or carry an umbrella to protect ourselves from it as if it was seven angels dumping plagues on our heads.
Well I happen to like rain. If Nature wants to water her trees, then she can water my head while she's at it. I know about sorrow. Tears can help clean the slate. I know about trouble. It's what makes you knuckle down and solve things. I know about frustration. I own a computer after all. Let the rain come. It can't hurt me.
I used to go hiking in the White Mountain National Forest whenever I could. Sometimes I went out in the rain. One day I took a trail that skirted the side of a cliff. It wasn't a long trail but it was steep and difficult, and very slippery because it began to rain. I donned my rain gear, a large pullover rain coat that came to my knees, with a hood. I also had my big walking stick. As I got near the end of the trail I heard something you don't expect to ever hear way out in the woods. I heard a car door slam.
I was approaching a area of cliffs. At the far end was a road where people could drive up for the view. As the rain was letting up a car came up there. When I reached the top I stepped out from behind the trees and saw a couple standing at the edge of the far cliff, admiring the view. I didn't move because I didn't want to startle them in their precarious position. But the woman saw me grabbed the man by the arm and he looked. They both ran back to the car and drove off as fast as they could.
I don't know what they thought they saw in my long coat, with the hood, my beard and my big stick. I was Jeremiah, John The Baptist, The Old Man Of The Mountain, The Ghost Of The White Mountains, whatever. They are probably still talking about the specter they saw that rainy day,
But think, if I had stayed home that day because of the rain I would never have given them that strange experience to talk about and I wouldn't have this story to tell.
DB
-------------------
Embrace a dream today
Saturday, February 28, 2009
Friday, February 27, 2009
True Tendering 2/27/09
Everything comes to us that belongs to us if we create the capacity to receive it.
Rabindranath Tagore
*********************
Hail, dear friend.
---------------------------
Is there room enough in my life?
When I first looked at this Tagore quote I thought about making room for things that I believe are rightfully mine.
I'm a music lover. What if someone gave me a grand piano? I have a small apartment, would I be able to receive it? Of course I would. I would have to rearrange things: move the bed, change the location of my desk, find a different place for some of the books. But i could do it. Bring it on.
Now what if I got an idea for a new story or painting? Well the computer is ready for me to start typing. My easel is set up, I have canvas, paints and brushes. Send it in.
But what if my soul mate, the love of my life, should suddenly appear? What would I do with her? Where would I put her? As I start to think about that I realize how many more changes I would have to make. I lived alone for so long it's hard to imagine another creature in my life and what all I would have to do to adapt.. But, at least, with her around I would have help. I think it's doable. Let her in.
But now I think, what if the sky opened up and poured down the blessing of enlightenment on me? What if I got a totally new, fresh view of existence? What if the revelation I have been struggling to achieve should come in the blink of an eye and change my life forever? Is there enough room in my heart and my mind to receive it? What changes do I have to make now to be ready?
That's the question. Am I really ready to receive a higher selfhood and live it? That question pokes at my thoughts everyday. There is a closed door that seems to be locked, but isn't. And behind it is something I think I should fear, but don't. I believe the opening of the door is not up to me, but it is. Every time I pass it I knock gently. But one of these days.....
In the meantime I will have music, art, love and hope, if I keep myself prepared. I would have trouble with 8 maids a-milking, 7 swans a-swimming, 6 geese a-laying, etc.
But they don't belong to me.
DB
_______________________
Plan for Spring!
Rabindranath Tagore
*********************
Hail, dear friend.
---------------------------
Is there room enough in my life?
When I first looked at this Tagore quote I thought about making room for things that I believe are rightfully mine.
I'm a music lover. What if someone gave me a grand piano? I have a small apartment, would I be able to receive it? Of course I would. I would have to rearrange things: move the bed, change the location of my desk, find a different place for some of the books. But i could do it. Bring it on.
Now what if I got an idea for a new story or painting? Well the computer is ready for me to start typing. My easel is set up, I have canvas, paints and brushes. Send it in.
But what if my soul mate, the love of my life, should suddenly appear? What would I do with her? Where would I put her? As I start to think about that I realize how many more changes I would have to make. I lived alone for so long it's hard to imagine another creature in my life and what all I would have to do to adapt.. But, at least, with her around I would have help. I think it's doable. Let her in.
But now I think, what if the sky opened up and poured down the blessing of enlightenment on me? What if I got a totally new, fresh view of existence? What if the revelation I have been struggling to achieve should come in the blink of an eye and change my life forever? Is there enough room in my heart and my mind to receive it? What changes do I have to make now to be ready?
That's the question. Am I really ready to receive a higher selfhood and live it? That question pokes at my thoughts everyday. There is a closed door that seems to be locked, but isn't. And behind it is something I think I should fear, but don't. I believe the opening of the door is not up to me, but it is. Every time I pass it I knock gently. But one of these days.....
In the meantime I will have music, art, love and hope, if I keep myself prepared. I would have trouble with 8 maids a-milking, 7 swans a-swimming, 6 geese a-laying, etc.
But they don't belong to me.
DB
_______________________
Plan for Spring!
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Serene Struggle 2/26/09
A man may be born, but in order to be born he must first die, and in order to die he must first awake.
Carl Sandburg
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Hi. Come on in.
--------------------------------------
There may be no other event in our earthly life that is so difficult, takes so long and yet is so important as waking up. People just seem to resist it with all their adamancy.
"No. I don't want to wake up. I'm just fine the way I am. Let me turn over, pull up the blanket of ignorance and sleep for another decade or so."
Life is so much easier if you don't wake up, get up, face the cruelties and beauties of real life, handle and sort the discoveries, reason out the dust and ashes, and experience the inspirations that come from the horrifying realization that you don't know who you are, or anything else for that matter and that for all of your life you've been fooling yourself and being fooled by some sort of dream world. If you wake up you have to face the fact that things are not what they have seemed to be.
But what a glorious and exhilarating experience it is when you finally accomplish it. Knowing that you can and must let your old self die, like a seed going into the ground from a dead and rotten apple, to create a new tree. "Put off the old man" as the Bible says, drop the old apple and let it die. "There is a time to be born."
It is an amazing experience to see reality as it is, without the covers. Two things happen. First, you have to learn how to live in a new way, on a new path with no sign posts, you have to accept an adventure, with all of it's perils, but with also all of it's splendor. And second you have to see how everything you thought you knew and thought you knew how to do has to be discarded because it was useless. Nothing disappears except that which did not appear in the first place. But what remains now has new dimensions and new meanings. The floor still has to be swept, but the broom is no longer just a broom. What it is is invisible and indescribable.
The face in the mirror is the same face, in various guises, that you have worn all your life. But is it really your face? Or is it just a mask?
The best part of dying and waking up is the joy. It may take years to do but somehow, at some point along the trail, you come to know that the arrival will be happiness, a deeper happiness than has ever been experienced by you or anyone else, because it will be yours.
I'm still on that trail myself, still clutching my security blanket, still sucking my metaphysical thumb. But I have faith that I will get there, I believe that I will. And someday I will drop my belief on the ground like an old dead apple and let understanding grow instead.
DB Vagabond Journeys
-------------------------
Send good thoughts today to someone who needs them.
Carl Sandburg
^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^
Hi. Come on in.
--------------------------------------
There may be no other event in our earthly life that is so difficult, takes so long and yet is so important as waking up. People just seem to resist it with all their adamancy.
"No. I don't want to wake up. I'm just fine the way I am. Let me turn over, pull up the blanket of ignorance and sleep for another decade or so."
Life is so much easier if you don't wake up, get up, face the cruelties and beauties of real life, handle and sort the discoveries, reason out the dust and ashes, and experience the inspirations that come from the horrifying realization that you don't know who you are, or anything else for that matter and that for all of your life you've been fooling yourself and being fooled by some sort of dream world. If you wake up you have to face the fact that things are not what they have seemed to be.
But what a glorious and exhilarating experience it is when you finally accomplish it. Knowing that you can and must let your old self die, like a seed going into the ground from a dead and rotten apple, to create a new tree. "Put off the old man" as the Bible says, drop the old apple and let it die. "There is a time to be born."
It is an amazing experience to see reality as it is, without the covers. Two things happen. First, you have to learn how to live in a new way, on a new path with no sign posts, you have to accept an adventure, with all of it's perils, but with also all of it's splendor. And second you have to see how everything you thought you knew and thought you knew how to do has to be discarded because it was useless. Nothing disappears except that which did not appear in the first place. But what remains now has new dimensions and new meanings. The floor still has to be swept, but the broom is no longer just a broom. What it is is invisible and indescribable.
The face in the mirror is the same face, in various guises, that you have worn all your life. But is it really your face? Or is it just a mask?
The best part of dying and waking up is the joy. It may take years to do but somehow, at some point along the trail, you come to know that the arrival will be happiness, a deeper happiness than has ever been experienced by you or anyone else, because it will be yours.
I'm still on that trail myself, still clutching my security blanket, still sucking my metaphysical thumb. But I have faith that I will get there, I believe that I will. And someday I will drop my belief on the ground like an old dead apple and let understanding grow instead.
DB Vagabond Journeys
-------------------------
Send good thoughts today to someone who needs them.
Wednesday, February 25, 2009
Ribald Reductions 2/25/09
Live in such a way that you would not be ashamed to sell your parrot to the town gossip.
Will Rogers
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Hi. Bring your smile and come along.
_____________________________
If I sold my parrot to the town gossip he and the bird would probably just sit around in stitches over the last 7 decades of my foolishness. I have finally come to the point where I can either laugh at the silly things I did that I thought were so serious and important at the time or else I can forget about them. I have also realized that you can't really draw wisdom from your nonsense and put it in its proper perspective until you can laugh at it. I have another quote, this one from Rochfoucauld, which says "He who lives without folly isn't as wise as he thinks,"
One definition of a farce is "A passion carried to a ridiculous extreme." Think of that. When a passion bites the brain and twists the heart we stand a good chance of becoming a farce, something to laugh at and laugh about in later years.
The truth of the matter is that we can't help it. If you live a busy, vigorous, expanding life your are going to do something stupid every now and then. It's inevitable. So you stepped in the doggie poop on the sidewalk did you? Well, join the club. What do you mean you forgot to record that last check you wrote and now you can't remember how much it was far? Why did you do such a thing? One night I went out on to the stage to play a romantic scene after a change of costume and forgot to zip up my fly. It added a whole new dimension to the scene, one which was not appropriate. I couldn't understand why the audience was laughing at me. I know a writer who was covering the US Senate for a major newspaper. One day he incorrectly reported all the votes. You can imagine the phone calls he got. He managed to keep his job. But how do we live these things down?
You live a practical, sure and well organized life, you have the respect of your family, neighbors and coworkers, you are known far and wide as a reasonable, reliable and dependable person. But one day, for some reason you will never know, you decide to go out and do something extremely wild. Your reputation is temporarily shot to hell and your self respect has plummeted to the basement. You look at yourself in the mirror (or maybe you don't) and wonder how you could have been so stupid as to do such a thing. What happened is that you have been very careful and worked very hard not to permit yourself any hint of ridiculous behavior and it all backed up on you until one day it came out like a volcano erupting. Believe me I know what I'm talking about. If you don't make room for the harmless wild and crazy you can be sure you will cause yourself a lot of trouble.
Moral: Do something foolish every now and then, but don't sell your parrot.
DB - The Vagabond
------------------------------------
Are you still smiling? Good.
Comment from my friend Bob of the email lions
I hope I live my life in such a way that the parrot would have plenty to say, and I wouldn't mind the gossip knowing about it. In other words, that I had plenty to be embarrassed about, and I'm not the least bit embarrassed about it. Haven't gotten to that point, of course, but it's something to shoot for. Bob
Will Rogers
<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<<
Hi. Bring your smile and come along.
_____________________________
If I sold my parrot to the town gossip he and the bird would probably just sit around in stitches over the last 7 decades of my foolishness. I have finally come to the point where I can either laugh at the silly things I did that I thought were so serious and important at the time or else I can forget about them. I have also realized that you can't really draw wisdom from your nonsense and put it in its proper perspective until you can laugh at it. I have another quote, this one from Rochfoucauld, which says "He who lives without folly isn't as wise as he thinks,"
One definition of a farce is "A passion carried to a ridiculous extreme." Think of that. When a passion bites the brain and twists the heart we stand a good chance of becoming a farce, something to laugh at and laugh about in later years.
The truth of the matter is that we can't help it. If you live a busy, vigorous, expanding life your are going to do something stupid every now and then. It's inevitable. So you stepped in the doggie poop on the sidewalk did you? Well, join the club. What do you mean you forgot to record that last check you wrote and now you can't remember how much it was far? Why did you do such a thing? One night I went out on to the stage to play a romantic scene after a change of costume and forgot to zip up my fly. It added a whole new dimension to the scene, one which was not appropriate. I couldn't understand why the audience was laughing at me. I know a writer who was covering the US Senate for a major newspaper. One day he incorrectly reported all the votes. You can imagine the phone calls he got. He managed to keep his job. But how do we live these things down?
You live a practical, sure and well organized life, you have the respect of your family, neighbors and coworkers, you are known far and wide as a reasonable, reliable and dependable person. But one day, for some reason you will never know, you decide to go out and do something extremely wild. Your reputation is temporarily shot to hell and your self respect has plummeted to the basement. You look at yourself in the mirror (or maybe you don't) and wonder how you could have been so stupid as to do such a thing. What happened is that you have been very careful and worked very hard not to permit yourself any hint of ridiculous behavior and it all backed up on you until one day it came out like a volcano erupting. Believe me I know what I'm talking about. If you don't make room for the harmless wild and crazy you can be sure you will cause yourself a lot of trouble.
Moral: Do something foolish every now and then, but don't sell your parrot.
DB - The Vagabond
------------------------------------
Are you still smiling? Good.
Comment from my friend Bob of the email lions
I hope I live my life in such a way that the parrot would have plenty to say, and I wouldn't mind the gossip knowing about it. In other words, that I had plenty to be embarrassed about, and I'm not the least bit embarrassed about it. Haven't gotten to that point, of course, but it's something to shoot for. Bob
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
Qualitative Quest 2/24/09
Qualitative Quest
Atlas groaned only under the weight of the Earth.
Today we sweat under the burden of cosmic ideas.
DB - The Vagabond
***********************
Good day Earthling.
It may some day be proven that human beings are the most arrogant, and hence, most ignorant creatures in the universe. We used to believe and proved, we thought, that the Earth was the center of the universe. After having to give up that canard, many now believe, and think they have proven, that the Earth is the only inhabited planet in all of creation. But with the increasing evidence that there might be extraterrestrial activity, the question comes up: Is there life on other planets? So far that question has only two answers: Why should there be? and Why not?
Science fiction writers, astronomers and cosmological theorists have had a grand old time with this subject. If there is life elsewhere we will probably know someday. If there isn't, we may never know it but we will keep looking.
Reason tells us that there must be some form of life existing somewhere out there. But reason itself is a questionable thing. It is merely the way humans think. But man cannot truly classify himself as a terrestrial rational being until he meets a non-terrestrial rational being. And if he were to find totally alien creatures who reason as well as, or better than, he does, he would have to conclude that reason is not what makes him human, that we reason because we're human, and not human because we reason. But what if reason is not the standard of universal mentality?
It seems as likely that there is a superior mode of thinking as there is that pigs can fly or that roses can grow at the bottom of the ocean. That is only because we can't think of one. But what if there is? What if our dedication to reason and our ability to think things through in a logical manner is just another form of believing that the Earth is the center of the universe?
There are some earthbound religions that teach that there is a higher form of thought than reason and that it is obtainable by the enlightened. Maybe that is so, and maybe it is a cosmic form of thought, shared by those whose dwelling place is an all-inclusive mental realm, no matter where they may come from.
I am a reasoning creature, and will no doubt remain so, ,I hope, for I see no better way. But I retain the right to have an open mind about unheard of and undreamed of possibilities in the universe of ideas.
DB - Vagabond Journeys
---------------------------
If your sky is clear, look up and wave. Something may be watching.
Atlas groaned only under the weight of the Earth.
Today we sweat under the burden of cosmic ideas.
DB - The Vagabond
***********************
Good day Earthling.
It may some day be proven that human beings are the most arrogant, and hence, most ignorant creatures in the universe. We used to believe and proved, we thought, that the Earth was the center of the universe. After having to give up that canard, many now believe, and think they have proven, that the Earth is the only inhabited planet in all of creation. But with the increasing evidence that there might be extraterrestrial activity, the question comes up: Is there life on other planets? So far that question has only two answers: Why should there be? and Why not?
Science fiction writers, astronomers and cosmological theorists have had a grand old time with this subject. If there is life elsewhere we will probably know someday. If there isn't, we may never know it but we will keep looking.
Reason tells us that there must be some form of life existing somewhere out there. But reason itself is a questionable thing. It is merely the way humans think. But man cannot truly classify himself as a terrestrial rational being until he meets a non-terrestrial rational being. And if he were to find totally alien creatures who reason as well as, or better than, he does, he would have to conclude that reason is not what makes him human, that we reason because we're human, and not human because we reason. But what if reason is not the standard of universal mentality?
It seems as likely that there is a superior mode of thinking as there is that pigs can fly or that roses can grow at the bottom of the ocean. That is only because we can't think of one. But what if there is? What if our dedication to reason and our ability to think things through in a logical manner is just another form of believing that the Earth is the center of the universe?
There are some earthbound religions that teach that there is a higher form of thought than reason and that it is obtainable by the enlightened. Maybe that is so, and maybe it is a cosmic form of thought, shared by those whose dwelling place is an all-inclusive mental realm, no matter where they may come from.
I am a reasoning creature, and will no doubt remain so, ,I hope, for I see no better way. But I retain the right to have an open mind about unheard of and undreamed of possibilities in the universe of ideas.
DB - Vagabond Journeys
---------------------------
If your sky is clear, look up and wave. Something may be watching.
Monday, February 23, 2009
Precise Purpose 2/23/09
Wear the old coat and buy the new book.
Austin Phelps
********************************
Welcome back.
-----------------------------------------
In Puccini's opera La Boheme, Colline decides to sell his overcoat to buy medicine in a futile attempt to help prolong the life of his roommate's girl friend. Even though it's an old coat it's deep pockets have held for him the best of poetry and philosophy. He loves that coat. Before he goes off with it, he sings a farewell to it "Addio, addio." It's a very poignant moment.
I used to sing that aria. (No, I used to pretend to sing it.)
One of the minor fears I've always had during my life, is that I would find myself stuck somewhere without something interesting to read. When I worked as a broadcaster in New York my reading schedule was brief and irregular at best. Being a radio announcer is busy and often difficult work and don't let anybody tell you differently. I always had a copy of the New York Times with me. Tucked in amongst the chit chat about the latest crime or political scandal, the war stories, the fashion and entertainment news, the weather information, the stock market quotes and the ball scores, there were stories written by people who had ideas to express. They may be new ideas, old ideas in a new articulation or forgotten ideas recovered and brought to print.
Margaret Thatcher once said that whereas England was formed from history, America was formed by philosophy.
Wherever I went I always had a book in my pocket. My friends knew that. I remember one evening sitting in DJ Moran's on 57th Street in Manhattan having a beer. Three guys came in. I knew one of them. He said "Hey D. What's in the pocket?" I said "Cervantes." The other two guys laughed until I took out my copy of Don Quixote and put it on the bar. They were not very impressed. So what? I didn't carry the book to impress people. I had it to read.
The world is made of ideas. Primarily and ceaselessly of ideas. There is no question about that. So whether you buy the overcoat or not, buy the book. And read it.
DB The Vagabond
--------------------------------
Time to put another stone down on that path you're building to your dream.
Austin Phelps
********************************
Welcome back.
-----------------------------------------
In Puccini's opera La Boheme, Colline decides to sell his overcoat to buy medicine in a futile attempt to help prolong the life of his roommate's girl friend. Even though it's an old coat it's deep pockets have held for him the best of poetry and philosophy. He loves that coat. Before he goes off with it, he sings a farewell to it "Addio, addio." It's a very poignant moment.
I used to sing that aria. (No, I used to pretend to sing it.)
One of the minor fears I've always had during my life, is that I would find myself stuck somewhere without something interesting to read. When I worked as a broadcaster in New York my reading schedule was brief and irregular at best. Being a radio announcer is busy and often difficult work and don't let anybody tell you differently. I always had a copy of the New York Times with me. Tucked in amongst the chit chat about the latest crime or political scandal, the war stories, the fashion and entertainment news, the weather information, the stock market quotes and the ball scores, there were stories written by people who had ideas to express. They may be new ideas, old ideas in a new articulation or forgotten ideas recovered and brought to print.
Margaret Thatcher once said that whereas England was formed from history, America was formed by philosophy.
Wherever I went I always had a book in my pocket. My friends knew that. I remember one evening sitting in DJ Moran's on 57th Street in Manhattan having a beer. Three guys came in. I knew one of them. He said "Hey D. What's in the pocket?" I said "Cervantes." The other two guys laughed until I took out my copy of Don Quixote and put it on the bar. They were not very impressed. So what? I didn't carry the book to impress people. I had it to read.
The world is made of ideas. Primarily and ceaselessly of ideas. There is no question about that. So whether you buy the overcoat or not, buy the book. And read it.
DB The Vagabond
--------------------------------
Time to put another stone down on that path you're building to your dream.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Original Observations 2/22/09
When you take a flower in your hand and really look at it, it's your world for the moment.
Georgia O'Keeffe
******************************
Hi, come with me for a while.
-----------------------------------------
When you look at a flower it's your world for a moment, but you are also its world. For the moment, other than itself, you are the flower's only world, your presence defines existence for the flower. Whatever invisible, intangible quantities you give off that the flower can receive are informing something to it. I don't know what a flowers consciousness is, who does? There may be, and probably is, a consciousness of plants that we know nothing about. But I think some of them are more intelligent than others, They certainly seem to have personalities. Some are miscreant bullies who take over everything, some are simple minded, persistent weeds who will crack a city sidewalk for the sake of sending up an insignificant sprout, others are gentle, friendly, vulnerable creatures who entertain with beauty. I'm not ready nor willing to accept the idea that the personality of a flower is a myth. Some people still think that animals are just "dumb beasts" while others, the more enlightened of us, know they aren't. Even though they don't gallop or prowl around, flowers have wondrous things to say and do, as becomes apparent when you get close to one.
A few days ago I wrote about the wisdom of a tree, Knowledge Kit 2/18/09, how it sleeps through the winter, and when spring comes, how it reestablishes itself in the world. A flower has a different purpose to perform in life, it stands at a different place on the stage of nature's spectacle, whether it's doing it far from human view and appreciation in some remote meadow or whether, like a domesticated cat, it's living out its destiny in your back yard,
I know people who talk to flowers. Why not? I'll bet Georgia did. If nature never repeats itself, no two butterfly wings alike, no two snowflakes, etc, then no two roses are alike, and each one deserves its own individual respect wherever it is. As Oswald Chambers wrote "'Consider the lilies of the field' they grow where they are put."
There's a world for you in the flower. There's a world for the flower in you. I say grow with it.
DB
May your Spring come sneaking in early.
Georgia O'Keeffe
******************************
Hi, come with me for a while.
-----------------------------------------
When you look at a flower it's your world for a moment, but you are also its world. For the moment, other than itself, you are the flower's only world, your presence defines existence for the flower. Whatever invisible, intangible quantities you give off that the flower can receive are informing something to it. I don't know what a flowers consciousness is, who does? There may be, and probably is, a consciousness of plants that we know nothing about. But I think some of them are more intelligent than others, They certainly seem to have personalities. Some are miscreant bullies who take over everything, some are simple minded, persistent weeds who will crack a city sidewalk for the sake of sending up an insignificant sprout, others are gentle, friendly, vulnerable creatures who entertain with beauty. I'm not ready nor willing to accept the idea that the personality of a flower is a myth. Some people still think that animals are just "dumb beasts" while others, the more enlightened of us, know they aren't. Even though they don't gallop or prowl around, flowers have wondrous things to say and do, as becomes apparent when you get close to one.
A few days ago I wrote about the wisdom of a tree, Knowledge Kit 2/18/09, how it sleeps through the winter, and when spring comes, how it reestablishes itself in the world. A flower has a different purpose to perform in life, it stands at a different place on the stage of nature's spectacle, whether it's doing it far from human view and appreciation in some remote meadow or whether, like a domesticated cat, it's living out its destiny in your back yard,
I know people who talk to flowers. Why not? I'll bet Georgia did. If nature never repeats itself, no two butterfly wings alike, no two snowflakes, etc, then no two roses are alike, and each one deserves its own individual respect wherever it is. As Oswald Chambers wrote "'Consider the lilies of the field' they grow where they are put."
There's a world for you in the flower. There's a world for the flower in you. I say grow with it.
DB
May your Spring come sneaking in early.
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