I was very excited to see a fox on my way home last night – it crossed the road in Nassau, unmistakably a fox and perhaps with a few white blotches on its tail. It paused once it got to the other side and watched me drive by.
Falling into black
darkness nightness emptiness
no words and no thoughts.a short still moment
knowing it’s the pause before
something new happens.In the first darkness
a red fox crossing the road
looks at me watching.
Cúchulainn toyed in mid-air with the point of the spear and his bird-catching never faltered. Likewise with the other eight spears. As the ninth spear was flung the flock of birds flew away from Cúchulainn and he sped off in pursuit. Birdlike, he stepped from point to point of the flying spears in his haste not to let the birds escape. But to everyone it seemed that Cúchulainn sped in flight before Nadcranntail. ~The Táin
From the Quote Box:
The great things in life are what they seem to be. And for that reason, strange as it may sound to you, often are very difficult to interpret (understand). Great passions are for the great of souls. Great events can only be seen by people who are on a level with them. We think we can have our visions for nothing. We cannot. Even the finest and most self-sacrificing visions have to paid for. Strangely enough, that is what makes them fine. — Oscar Wilde
I wish I could run off to a beach, or a dark woods, or a dreamweaver class (only if I were sure I wouldn’t want to run screaming from the building during class two). Sometimes you just want a change. Sometimes you just want to learn something new. Eat something new. Hear something new.
On days like these there’s not much to do but wonder what you’d do if time and money and all weren’t an issue. I guess that’s just as good a daydream to get lost in as anything else, right?
From the Quote Box:
This is the true joy in life, the being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one; the being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown on the scrap heap; the being a force of nature instead of a feverish selfish little clod of ailments and grievances complaining that the world will not devote itself to making you happy. (Man and Superman) — George Bernard Shaw
The superior man thinks only of virtue; the common man thinks only of comfort.
