A more bottom layer
I seem to have reached a more bottom layer of life just the last few days. Like Buber I might say that one cannot live all of life in profound places, but to never visit them is not real living.
:- Doug.
Archive for December 21st, 2022
Not growing
The thread I have been spinning out this morning goes something like this: Each of us is uniquely different from each other of us, each of us has our own fingerprints. Yet we are each humanity, life, all of life. We put immense and unneeded burdens upon ourselves to make sales quotas, write a perfect power of attorney, get the house paid off, buy a better garden tractor, get the bathroom updated: to reach some goal or other. And then start all over again. Nor is it as I had thought about growing. There is something beneath all that, when we squeeze out the essence of life. It is living. It is engaging each other. It is meeting one another. It is meeting one another’s needs. Nothing else.
:- Doug.
We stumble
The direction of this imaginative project is toward naming what humans lean into. Its premise is humans stumble between two legs of improving and destroying, with an often negligible advantage to improving. How then shall we choose?
:- Doug.
Footprints in the Windsm # 2191–Went to shoot baskets
Footprints in the Windsm # 2191
After some years, I went one day to shoot some baskets. The ball fell a foot short of the rim.
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Along the growing stem
Profundity nudges us along the growing stem leading to a flower which is a station on the journey but not its end.
:- Doug.
