Saturday Morning

clouds

Still looking for bliss in nothing at all, the cloudy mind moving over existence, outside time.

Patricia HamplThe Art of the Wasted Day (Published April 17, 2018)


Notes:

  • Post Inspired by Patricia Hampl: “Daydreaming doesn’t make things up. It sees things. Claims things, twirls them around, takes a good look. Possesses them. Embraces them. Makes something of them. Makes sense. Or music. How restful it is, how full of motion. My first paradox. I couldn’t care less what it’s called. It’s pure pleasure. Infinite delight…This is what is called the life of the mind. It’s what I want to do. It’s where I want to be. Right here.” (Patricia Hampl, The Art of the Wasted Day)
  • Photo by Mikael Aldo (via see more)
  • Related Posts: Patricia Hampl

 

5:00 P.M. Bell!


Photo: Young watchdog Enzo pulls on the rope of 17-year old cow Belinda, which has already yielded 150,000 liters of milk, in Heckenbach, Germany. (wsj.com, March, 27, 2018, Thomas Frey)

5:00 P.M. Bell!


Photo: Kirsty Kelly (Glasgow). Photo of her daughter dancing in front of Irish painter John Lavery’s (1856-1941) painting of ballerina Anna Pavlova. (via Your Eyes Blaze Out)

Lightly Child, Lightly

That was his most perfect idea of heaven’s happiness —
mine was rocking in a rustling green tree, with a west wind blowing
and bright, white clouds flitting rapidly above;
and not only larks, but throstles, and blackbirds,
and linnets and cuckoos pouring out music on every side…
close by great swells of long grass undulating in waves to the breeze;
and woods and sounding water,
and the whole world awake and wild with joy…”

~ Emily Brontë, from “Wuthering Heights


Notes:

  • Photo: Favim.com
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here 
  • 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.”

T.G.I.F.: It’s been a long week


Source: Keystone-France via Getty Images – Car Break-Down 1964. A little boy pushing his father’s broken down 2 CV on the French Riviera on July 23, 1964. (via Newthom)

T.G.I.F.


Source: Your Eyes Blaze Out

there’s something in us that calls to us, that pulls us out the door


Here is entry number 208: ‘I was out walking one night in busy streets of Glasgow when, with slow majesty, at a corner where the pedestrians were hurrying by and the city traffic was hurtling on its way, the air was filled with heavenly music, and an all-encompassing light, that moved in waves of luminous colour, outshone the brightness of the lighted streets. I stood still, filled with a strange peace and joy … until I found myself in the everyday world again with a strange access of gladness and of love…’

Psychologists and psychiatrists are moving from their traditional hostility to ecstasy to an understanding that it’s often good for us. Much of our personality is made up of attitudes that are usually subconscious. We drag around buried trauma, guilt, feelings of low self-worth. In moments of ecstasy, the threshold of consciousness is lowered, people encounter these subconscious attitudes, and are able to step outside of them. They can feel a deep sense of love for themselves and others, which can heal them at a deep level. Maybe this is just an opening to the subconscious, maybe it’s a connection to a higher dimension of spirit – we don’t know…Ultimately, there’s something in us that calls to us, that pulls us out the door. Let’s find out where it leads.

~ Jules Evans, excerpts from Dissolving the EgoYou don’t need drugs or a church for an ecstatic experience that helps transcend the self and connect to something bigger (Aeon Essays, June 26, 2017). Adapted from his new book: “The Art of Losing Control: A Philosopher’s Search for Ecstatic Experience” (April 25, 2017)


Photo: Brian Travelling. Photo of South Frederick Street in Glasgow

Riding Metro North. With Sunbeam.

You think you might give me a run for it, but you can’t touch me. You can’t come close, not remotely close to my Superiority. Top 1% of the 1% in…

Mood Swings. 

Close your eyes and think bungee jumper, in an infinite loop, who’s boinging up and down in a zone which pulls up short of Bliss and a whisker from Abyss. Not too hot, but hot enough to pinch, and not too cold, but cold enough to feel frost bite, and once in a while tasting Despair, but never lallygagging in Euphoria.

It’s the 5:40 am train. I have the entire seat to myself on Metro North to NYC.

We’re operating on 4.5 hours of sleep, and hauling the wet slushy snow of accumulated sleep deprivation from the prior three days.  Eyes heavy. Shoulders heavy. Words from the morning papers slur together.  I set down the smartphone.

Tired. Sick and tired of being tired, and bored writing about tired. Tired³. [Read more…]

I have found myself thinking of summer fields

I have found myself thinking of summer fields. Fields full of flowers— poppies or lupines. Or, here, fields where the roses hook into the dunes, and their increase is manyfold. All summer they are red and pink and white tents of softness and nectar, which wafts and hangs everywhere— a sweetness so palpable and excessive that, before it, I’m struck, I’m taken, I’m conquered; I’m washed into it, as though it was a river, full of dreaming and idleness— I drop to the sand, I can’t move; I am restless no more; I am replete, supine, finished, filled to the last edges with an immobilizing happiness.

~ Mary Oliver, from “Owls” in Upstream: Selected Essays 


Photo: Bart Ceuppens (Belgium) with Poppies (via drxgonfly)

Sunday Morning

dog-feet-pet-bed.jpg

There are mornings when the dog is smushed between us.

The sun breaks through the blinds with rays that warm our blanket tangled bodies.

Silent breathy snores, and the low mumble of a fan.

Picture perfect in my eyes.

Simplistic in others.

Too me?

This is the life.

~ Wandering Girl, “No one can take this from me


Photo: via Newton

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