Thursday, September 25, 2008
FROM MORNING DRIVE JOURNAL
SEPTEMBER 26, 2002
The cool weather continues, even in the sunshine. And we've had sunshine; even on those days that start grey the sun breaks through for a while.
I suppose we get to heaven doing what we are happiest at. That would be heaven - doing what makes us happy. How is it that "duty" lead us away from happiness? Why do we allow it? We drive or we're driven; we act or we're acted upon. Even in horrible situations we can own what we do and take responsibility for what happens to us, how it happens to us; or we can be victims, whipped by the world around us. Nothing changes but one's attitude; one's attitude changes everything. We can sue because we burned ourselves with hot coffee; or we can stop putting hot coffee between our legs. The power to choose is greater than any other force on earth; it is necessarily accompanied by the need to accept responsibility for our choices and the consequences of our choices. Perhaps the need for responsibility is why so many choose to remain victims - "victims" are not responsible for what happens to them.
The "Tumbling Woman" statue is a beautiful sculpture, yet I cannot look at it - the pain. But I would not tell the artist to cover it up because of my pain. I'd simply stop looking at it, as I have stopped.
It's a full-blown, high sky blue kind of beauty this morning. Sun laid on the grass like crying.
We must be careful - what we see is not all there is. Our eyes are but a picture window we look out through, framing out much that's out there.
The field corn has mostly turned, the ears surprising fat considering how dry the summer was. There's a special smell in the air at the time the corn turns - that's autumn's smell, that's the way the seaon affects the nose.
A pair of crows finds worms on a lawn in Ripon. Crows know. Crows have about them the wisdom of dirt.
SEPTEMBER 26, 2002
The cool weather continues, even in the sunshine. And we've had sunshine; even on those days that start grey the sun breaks through for a while.
I suppose we get to heaven doing what we are happiest at. That would be heaven - doing what makes us happy. How is it that "duty" lead us away from happiness? Why do we allow it? We drive or we're driven; we act or we're acted upon. Even in horrible situations we can own what we do and take responsibility for what happens to us, how it happens to us; or we can be victims, whipped by the world around us. Nothing changes but one's attitude; one's attitude changes everything. We can sue because we burned ourselves with hot coffee; or we can stop putting hot coffee between our legs. The power to choose is greater than any other force on earth; it is necessarily accompanied by the need to accept responsibility for our choices and the consequences of our choices. Perhaps the need for responsibility is why so many choose to remain victims - "victims" are not responsible for what happens to them.
The "Tumbling Woman" statue is a beautiful sculpture, yet I cannot look at it - the pain. But I would not tell the artist to cover it up because of my pain. I'd simply stop looking at it, as I have stopped.
It's a full-blown, high sky blue kind of beauty this morning. Sun laid on the grass like crying.
We must be careful - what we see is not all there is. Our eyes are but a picture window we look out through, framing out much that's out there.
The field corn has mostly turned, the ears surprising fat considering how dry the summer was. There's a special smell in the air at the time the corn turns - that's autumn's smell, that's the way the seaon affects the nose.
A pair of crows finds worms on a lawn in Ripon. Crows know. Crows have about them the wisdom of dirt.
