Sunshine

It's a beautiful day. The sun shines gently warming the earth once again (as opposed to the backs of rain clouds), the pool sparkles and ripples, the air is full of the sounds of spring: birds, bugs and rustling leaves.

I'm dreaming of being out in the sun rather than at my desk admiring it, a dream that is increasing in potency due to both its closeness as well as my growing enjoyment of not having as many things piled up on the 'to do list'. I've ticked a few things off and it feels so exceptionally good, just like this sun shiny day. Strange how i can forget so easily what can be so good for me, but like the rain it's necessary too, but unlike the rain it's not necessary for ever.

Clockwork

There are some things that make us less that we could be. I wonder if it's the same as what makes us what we could be? Or at least the flip side. I sit here wondering if my capacity is exactly my chain, my brilliance exactly my weakness.

A day of confusion has ensued after a couple of days of blazing activity. The cycles i find hard to ride, part of me wants to be able to hit the on switch on demand but the turning of the earth seems to have different ideas. I am not clockwork, but it seems that would be ideal.

Somewhere...

There is a golden red sunset going on somewhere right now, and a soft dawn full of gentle pink hues. There is rain soaking into soil as someone huddles resentful of the wet and cold, and someone a smile dancing as the earth and plants drinks deep. There is sunshine somewhere right now warming the skin of someone dreaming of their lover, and someone hiding from the brutal onslaught of the suns rays. There is someone inspired making real their very life's purpose, and there is someone hiding desperately from the deepest whispers of their soul trudging out the hours. There is concrete encrusted on now barren lands, and rainforests exploding with life. There is someone completely unaware of their own mind, and there is someone totally aware of everything. And there is everything in between, the dawn, the dusk, the sun, the moon, the dark the light. And patiently i can't help but feel the earth gently watches lovingly encouraging of everything, and the sky holds open the very heavens, waiting for us to allow grace, to find ourselves.

Holidays and the return

Mind slipping down slopes of egg filled belly tiredness. Glasses hold my head in comfort seeing only their own need to be useful.

The house is strangely quiet: we all miss the O'Foleys, the animals all feel a bit lost, the house itself doesn't quite know what to do with itself. I hope the sock monster in the roof doesn't starve.

Fresh back from Adelaide, as we drove along the freeway the intensity of anxiety hit me like a wall, un-checked messages on my phone lurked grinning at me evilly, a mountain of work, such a different world away from a romantic holiday on the Great Australian Bight where the wind smelled of the crisp salt ocean and the light sliced right through my mind cleansing, refreshing.

Waking on the coast

Pine trees stand tall in front of the southern ocean, white fluffy clouds float in blue skies and birds lazily circle. Even through my fuzzy short sighted eyes the world has a clarity, a sharpness that has nothing to do with focussed edges. There is something magical about the coast, and especially about coastal Australia, there is a feeling, a spaciousness, a sharpness, a freshness that i've not ever seen anywhere else. Not that i've been lots of other places, but enough to get the idea that here is not like that many other places.

Victor Harbour is a curious place. It has a centre which oozes old world charm which qucikly slips into modern boxes of drap latte lifestyle minimalism, then into either bland burbs or classic 50's to 60's sea side holiday house architecture.

But now to breakfast!

love and loss

I'm at once very aware of the loving goodness i have right here on the SA coast with a woman who makes my heart sing, and also of the sense of loss as a part of my family is flying further and further away from me. Well, physically at least. Its part of the danger and joy of loving is the increased capacity for all emotions, but also knowing that when that love is without boundaries and really doesn't end just because someone isn't there.

I'm looking forward to flying myself to New York, but am also looking forward to being a custodian of their home, and their hearts.

Art of Mind

The art of the mind is a strange and always changing thing. Today it feels like a a thousand fragments of crystal spilling light in all directions, yesterday it felt like a laser beam. What has changed?

A shift of thinking from my frontal lobe to deep inside the middle of my head has been transformative over the last few days, but today i feel unable to pull the various streams of light together into a whole. I'm tired, and feeling that rising sense of panic i so often struggle with: understandably so, i'm really pushing the extended deadlines now.

Perhaps there is no reason, it's just how i am today. A very inconvenient thought.