FootprintsintheWind.com

This is a struggle, a good one just now, to work out what we don’t know about any particular thing. What are the edges we might test? Right, west, up, swim, random juxtaposition: all these tools are there, and still we are surprised. Last evening I was reading an author who writes in her journal one line on top of the previous over and over so that she is hidden even from herself, and she finds this is a way to uncover herself. Why would that be? Perhaps it gives her permission to say things she would not want anyone to see or know of her. It is similar to “The Guest Master” in The Magic Monastery, destroying the “bible” one wrote for a whole year.

:- Doug.

This little balloon of ours, how do we discover what it touches? What’s out there? How do we develop our tentative reaches, our nose for new colors and ‘phanies?

:- Doug.

What do we not know about the conversation of the conversations?

:- Doug.

How many dimensions are in that question?

:- Doug.

Who are we in conversation done well? By we, we mean the relations of us, our among and betweens. By done well, we mean ever more humanly, but as precisely and as undefinedly as human can mean. What do we not know? Whom do we not know beyond ourselves?

:- Doug.