Harmony isn’t something that comes naturally at least for humans. Unlike the Dao that always acts in perfect harmony, man seems bent of creating disharmony even when he claims he wants harmony. His efforts are like a speeding boat that creates a wake that disrupts the peacefulness of a lake. The faster he tries to get there, the further away from harmony he becomes. In a perfect world, we would all be harmonious, but that perfect world is always elusive. As the old saying goes, it is easy to be a holy man on top of a mountain. But our lives are lived below the mountain top, down in the valleys where conflict runs rampant and grows like an unchecked patch of weeds choking out the beautiful flowers.
Sunday, November 23, 2014
I look into the fire and I think of all the people that have come into and passed out of my life. Names and faces or faces no longer with names, just vague recollections. Sometimes as I think of them, I wonder if they have ever thought about me or if I have just disappeared into the pages of time; pages that are never read or can be read anymore. Certain experiences that I recall that may mean nothing to the other person who was involved. Does she remember me? Does she ever think fondly of that time? Sometimes, ships just pass in the night.
Saturday, November 22, 2014
I got up this morning to do some yard work and it was pouring rain. It wasn’t the kind of rain that you could go out in if you didn’t mind getting a little wet. It was a driving rain that quickly created puddles in the low areas of the grass. I made myself some coffee and just sat down by the front window; watching the rain. I lost myself in time and must of sat there for an hour or so watching the raindrops bouncing off the roof, and the cars, and the street. Currents of water washing the helpless leaves down the curb and into the large drain at the end of the street. I absolutely accomplished nothing during this time yet this time was productive. I let my mind become still and became one with the falling rain. I don’t mean this like in a zenned-out blissful type of cliché, but just sitting and watching and not thinking about anything. The only thing that snapped me out of it was when I noticed the rain beginning to lessen in intensity. This made me feel disappointed. Even then, I was transfixed. The rain eventually stopped and the birds began flying around again. Old people passed by walking their dogs. The sun came back out and devoid of my entertainment, I went back to bed. The yard work could wait.