Edited by Richie Cuthbertson, Friday, 24 Dec 2021, 21:51
Still not done anything on this assignment. I just can't find the will or inclination to work right now. Decided to go for an epic walk in the chill December evening. The pavements frosted with the fractal patterns of ice flakes. The half moon was bright, shone right into my heart. The sea was still and quiet. One house I walked past had so many Christmas lights up in their garden and they had made like a huge hammock-like string of lightbulbs between one palm tree and another.
These old Victorian houses look magical at this time of year. I feel the spirits of the ancestors coming from them, greeting me with a lovely energy that is hard to put into words, but you can feel it, sense it in the body, in the heart mostly I think, although also everywhere else, even my toes (if that last sentence even makes sense).
It was very quiet, not another person in sight, just lit windows, and I imagined all the different people living their lives and wished them well. Some energy feels really old, serene and wise, and others young like the Spring. Yet there is something that connects us all, whoever we are, an energy I cannot for the life of me find adequate words for. But I imagine you have also felt it too dear reader, and may well be nodding in agreement, because we have all felt it I believe. Something larger than ourselves, something sublime that when you try to pin it down makes it disappear, although it is still there. Perhaps it is the way the mind likes to separate and dissect things, but actually the truth is we are all one, all beings, all matter, we are all a part of it.
NIght energy
Still not done anything on this assignment. I just can't find the will or inclination to work right now. Decided to go for an epic walk in the chill December evening. The pavements frosted with the fractal patterns of ice flakes. The half moon was bright, shone right into my heart. The sea was still and quiet. One house I walked past had so many Christmas lights up in their garden and they had made like a huge hammock-like string of lightbulbs between one palm tree and another.
These old Victorian houses look magical at this time of year. I feel the spirits of the ancestors coming from them, greeting me with a lovely energy that is hard to put into words, but you can feel it, sense it in the body, in the heart mostly I think, although also everywhere else, even my toes (if that last sentence even makes sense).
It was very quiet, not another person in sight, just lit windows, and I imagined all the different people living their lives and wished them well. Some energy feels really old, serene and wise, and others young like the Spring. Yet there is something that connects us all, whoever we are, an energy I cannot for the life of me find adequate words for. But I imagine you have also felt it too dear reader, and may well be nodding in agreement, because we have all felt it I believe. Something larger than ourselves, something sublime that when you try to pin it down makes it disappear, although it is still there. Perhaps it is the way the mind likes to separate and dissect things, but actually the truth is we are all one, all beings, all matter, we are all a part of it.
This freaky mind-blowing experience of being.