Walking Cross-Town. Crossing the Street.

plant-green-water-drops

The morning ritual is…

GET to the office.
GET to the desk.
Fire up the PC.
GET a jump on the day.
Same. Same. Same.

I exit Grand Central,
and head West.
Same route.
As the crow flies,
it’s a straight shot, on foot, cross-town, to the office on 48th street.
Speed traps are meted out by flashing Don’t Walk! signs and traffic,
as jaywalking is a cultural norm in Gotham.

I couldn’t tell you what triggered it.
It could have been a car horn.
A driver shouting at another.
Or perhaps more subtle,
a bird call amidst the gray, inert skyscrapers,
or a unusually, warm early morning wind gust from my left.

[Read more…]

Saturday Morning

sleep-saturday-photography-legs-weekend

slow living.

right now.

~ d smith kaich jones


Photo: By Cyrille Druart (Paris 2003) via Precious Things

5:00 PM Bell!

wind-breeze-beach-friday-holiday-TGIF-T.G.i.F-weekend


Source: Never look back

 

Lightly child, lightly

bubble-art

I exist.
It is soft, so soft, so slow.
And light:
it seems as though it suspends in the air.
It moves.

~ Jean-Paul Sartre, Nausea


Credits:

  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Image Source: The Sensual Starfish

 

It would just be there

face-close-up-eyes-closed

I lie awake,
wishing I had faith of some kind.
I’ve caught glimpses of it now and then,
I can even conjure it up for a second or two,
but it fades.
It’s a stillness,
the polar opposite of worry.
It isn’t hope;
hope has too much energy,
requires constant renewal;
faith (if I had it) would just be there.

~ Abigail Thomas, Safekeeping: Some True Stories From a Life


Photograph: A. Sprigg via Precious Things

Lightly child, lightly

lightly-fly-light-let-go

I weighed two hundred kilos,
something was pulling me to the floor,
a huge force had taken hold of me
and was dragging me down.
What shall I do, I thought.
What shall I do.
I’ll let go, I thought.
I’ll let go.

~ Per Petterson, I Refuse: A Novel


Notes:

  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Image Source: Stefano Corso via Precious Things

 

Saturday Morning

hammock

I think about time differently since I got to be this old.
I think of each moment as a big La-Z-Boy,
or perhaps a hammock,
and the only direction is a little back and forth,
or side to side.
For this I need peace and quiet,
and I eschew all outside stimulation.
Perhaps this is why the future escapes me.

~ Abigail Thomas, What Comes Next and How to Like It: A Memoir


Photo: Jo Lynn Zamudio via Outdoor Magic

It’s been a long day

bath-hair-relax-chill-woman

O blurred.
O tumble-rush of days
we cannot catch.

— Deborah Landau, from “Solitaire

 


Credits: Poem excerpt via Fables of the Reconstruction. Photograph – mennyfox55

Lightly child, lightly

woman-field-rest-peace

Wanting to grasp the ungraspable,
you exhaust yourself in vain.
As soon as you open and relax
this tight fist of grasping,
infinite space is there –
open, inviting and comfortable. […]

Nothing to do or undo.
Nothing to force,
nothing to want
and nothing missing.

Emaho! Marvellous!
Everything happens by itself.

~ Lama Guendun Rinpoche, excerpts from Free and Easy


Credits:

  • Image Source: Sweet Senderipity
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.

 

Fly. Pause. Fly.

gif-bird-pause-fly


Source: Journal of a Nobody