If you like dealing in the delights of life you need to surrender that pre-laid plan of yours. You need to often wander aimlessly, question curiously and accept graciously, to be a participant of the delights of life. You can paint you path in many colours and you can pathe your path in many ways but its best to be flexible with this. To run free off the path with no guilt of neglecting a pre-laid plan if the paint is a mistake then let it be but don’t live by it. Don’t let your pre-meditated paintings forebode your now canvasses. We charge this way and that, we stand here and there, we talk of this and that and we can never guarantee to ourselves or any other of the future. There is only hope, but what is hope but mere preparation for a pre-decided action. Live in the now with the colours that you have and paint as the drawing evolves. Don’t paint ahead and guilt trip your self over an unforeseen change of scene, colour scheme, direction. Let the world improvise so that you can improvise with it.
What is it to be lost in time. To be taken by the very fraction of life you exist in, right then, right now.
Is it possible to deceive yourself? How long can you exist looking blind ways to yourself. How long can you live the deceptions of your choice. If we’re in the wrong place we generally know. We know when its time to act and release the knowing to let it guide us on down the river. Its important not to get beached, its important to follow those whispers you hear from the water. By all means, sit on the beach, sit on the banks and view momentum’s of others, of the echoes of you. But dive in when the whispers get louder. Don’t be a master of deception to yourself. You only live the lie for you. For no other benefit. If the life doesn’t fit don’t keep breathing shallow, breathe deep and feel the influx, the tidal of life pour in and fill you up. Where it will take you, you can not know. The adventure of life is ever over turning.
A want is a strange thing. Some times it can feel so huge it becomes an object, it almost seems to grow so much that it becomes a physical object we own. Wanting can feel almost childish. Its hard to reason with a want. A want knows nothing but the want. Its closed, its narrow and its passionate. It swells to caress the insides of you. It doesn’t cue with the rest of the thoughts it jumps right up ahead and speaks regularly to the manager whilst along the way harassing the rest of the staff (the eyes, the lungs, the stomach they are all directed by the want.) The want can compose scores and scores of tunes played out by your inner orchestra. The want directs many scenes of the minds musings.
Let the want know the land of roaming raw and free but don’t let it control and manipulate your senses. Let it be a companion, a guide, let it in but don’t necessarily let it win. Wants can be uncultured, they can be ignorant, they can be selfish but don’t let this deceive you. A want is always honest, a want is always brave, it will always speak up (even if it is just to your very inner self) so don’t shun your wants away just talk to them and learn from them. They need to be educated as much as our uncertainties.
I ride around with myself.
When you travel alone you allow yourself to speak more. I let myself trickle about my interior, a moment in the head and a moment in my stomach. Myself becomes my constant. I depend upon my natural familiar inconsistencies. I never guess how I am because my ear is to my mouth and I am fed with my-selves information. I am my own best friend as cliche and romantically lonely that sounds.
I’m questioning whether it is possible for it to become too much of a dependency. Too dependant on your self that no other voice or offerings can measure up. I think this does happen and has happened to me in doses. I take to much of my own drug. I get hooked and so I immerse myself in the worlds of others to rehabilitate myself. To build with more wonderful offered materials. Life isn’t a solo act. Life does however need you to walk with you, to talk with you, more often than we habitually participate in.
Blindly jumped into the unknown. Not to much of a clue of the fuel that drove me here. To be confused by yourself sure can make you feel anxious. Plenty of questions but aimless with their directions. I am living with the unknown. My hands feel light of knowings and heavy with uncertainty. It all feels familiar but all so different at the same time. To have a sectioned map and to stand alone amidst strangers feels spacious and peculiar. Every body of skin is a new world. I do daily free park dwelling, revel in the warm air and drift with time. Unknown faces all so keen to delve into conversation. Many a chat, many an exchange. These free pleasures, these exchanges, draw out my ample amount of happiness but when alone I climb back into my mind cave and see what stores I have gathered and view what is needed for the up coming season. Australia is where I stand right now. I hold no immediate yes which somehow evokes a sense of longevity. I haven’t landed a bunch of flowers to enjoy their deadlined life but I have arrived with a bag full of seeds to sprinkle and anticipate the possibility of growth. A love for a place grows with distance. Its not until you are landed with memories that you gain knowledge of the love that was there or not. This venture is currently without purpose. I wake up and live each day with no knowing of where or when I shall make a new move. I am currently a city dweller, dwelling on the city.
So where to begin? So much has changed and yet familiarity coats everything in comfortable pleasure. How people are, where people are in their journey, all of this takes time to unravel. The immediate meets and greats are filled with expectant exchanges. Headlines of lives are swapped and then the now is swift to settle in. As the sharing ground is re-figured, the stories, the thoughts and emotions are shed. Shed may be the wrong word, more that the opening happens. Once opened you are invited to swim with the other. Swim with the other as they guide you around the waters they have been treading/diving/swimming.
I love this happening. I can feel it in myself. I can feel when the path of communication has wound and led through the forests and the lanes and ended up at a field. I can feel when I walk through the gates and the space lures for further discussion, for further sharing, time to be with one another.
Stomping around on much stomped territory. Same eyes, new eyes. Same thoughts, new thoughts. Same people, new people. I have expanded my taste buds and now everything tastes richer. More depth from the mouthfuls we have from life. More colours are seen and more smells are absorbed. I feel its a little cliche coming back and now feeling more observent but its true, its apparent.
At various points in life you really notice time. Its pace, its recurrences, its absence. A time gone by ebbing and living in the land of memory. Perhaps slightly altered by the mischievous imagination who adds and swaps and colours a scene maybe slightly differently to the original. Sometimes we sit on time, we hold on, asking and praying for it to stay a little while longer. But time is lucid. Time is there, for always. No matter whether you live a life without a clock (a watch) or if you live with hours counted. Time will forever be a companion because the seasons change, the day and night rotate, because we move.
Could we move without time? Isn’t life a rhythm and isn’t rhythm time? The enjoyment of time. Think of a bank full of time, your account is full of time and we spend it throughout life. Sometimes we will pile in and spend a lot of time on a chosen phase of life. A person, an activity, or just a trail of thought. We invest time. Time is to be danced with. Time is to be forgotten, time is to be remembered. A collection of times. We really just exist within time, just sometimes we walk in it and other times it walks within us. The beat of you. How do seconds fit within you? Always different, always running at a different frequency. This is life, this is our story. Our plots, our characters, our moments of stillness are all played out in time. We bend time and we are puppet-ed by time. The giving of time and the receiving of time. The beauty and wonder of time is that no matter what time your on we can all share in a time when connected. Sometimes we run in different worlds of time and so we can miss anothers story, but time is to be enjoyed. Times are to be had. Be with your time. Live this and the next, know and forget. Listen to your rhythm and ride the changes.