With both hands
We must grasp life with both hands or we do not have it. One hand only, right brain or left alone, is not enough. We must plunge in, not wading but swimming, nothing held back. But we want to hold back. Why? Fear? Something more to the bone? Fear and greed are other sides of the same coin. Yet we can never hold anything. We can only become, grow, transform. It is the thread that is the real us, not the knots. More truly, it is the pattern of the threads when they touch and move to touch elsewhere that is us: the melody and harmony and rhythm, not notes written on the page nor individual notes struck plucked or blown. The continuity of us is only past; the real us is is-ing.
:- Doug.
You can leave a response, or