IN THE MORNING I GO OUT ON THE PORCH AND ALLOW MYSELF THE CHANCE TO READ AND MEDITATE AND PONDER.

SOMETIMES I FEEL INSPIRED TO WRITE, FOR WHICH I HAVE BUT A SIMPLE RULE; WRITE WHATEVER COMES FORTH AND FILL ONE PAGE COMPLETELY.

THESE ARE A FEW OF THOSE ENTRIES.

Number 1

Today is the first day of the rest of my life.  Today is a gift.  As was yesterday, already gone and as will be tomorrow, still distant in the future.  

My life resides in this moment, a transitory experience captured in a fleshy suit of blood and bone.  The fact that I am aware is perhaps the greatest gift of all.  To give thanks and stand in awe at the wild beauty that is Nature is the expression of gratitude most sought by TROG.  

Can one own the world?  Can one own what he did not create?  If all material possessions are only reconstructs, redistributions, reconfigurations of everything that ever existed on this earth before that person…then can he really own them?  Certainly we can’t even strive for them, or we shouldn’t since they exist in a pre-material form regardless of our idolatry in a post-chemical, post-alchemical, post-production state.  

Why desire something finite when we can all have (and do have) something greater that is in-finite!  The pursuits of material things can be honorable, curious and most entertaining.  Why lust after the piece of fruit when you can live in harmony with the tree that provides it?

I am but a student; my heart is open and my mind is clear.  My soul will guide me, I have no fear.

Number 2

There is something within me that stirs, a warm shadow, a growl of an animal, a movement of branches in the wind.  A collection of these things and none of them.  It is a passion, a yearning for understanding and acceptance of the fragility of time. 

To be guided…to bear witness to the horrors and the beauty, like a rainbow in a midnight storm.  

A realization of my impermanence within my human design and joyful exuberance upon the discovery that my core, that which we know as our soul, is as everlasting as time itself.  

“But we can’t see it” they say, dubious of the soul’s existence, much less its significance  

“You are using the wrong set of eyes” is the reply, as the wind blows across their faces, a puzzled expression left in its path.  

Our five senses support our bodies’ ability to conquer the physical world that we think we know.  But our six faculties open up the heavens in a magnitude that pales what our eyes and ears and lips could ever dream.

I walk my path, sometimes alone but never by myself. It is a journey of infinite steps on a road of love.  

My feet will never weary, my heart will never close.

Number 3

The peculiarities of life are never ending, our imagination of the unknown runs the risk of being less creative in comparison to the actions that transpire here on earth.  

But are they real?  

Do they actually exist beyond our perception of them?  As the proverbial falling tree in a forest deserted of people, are the sounds actually being created?  

Perhaps the relevance of reality in regards to our metaphysical is based on the past.  When things happen, normal or strange, they are real to us and even more acutely felt are our emotions and reactions immediately thereafter.  One’s ability to control feelings as they manifest from thoughts is what epitomizes an advanced individual from a beast or even from a less aware person.  

To control your external circumstances is to hold water in a paper sieve; but to control your internal thoughts and feelings is to put that water in a glass bowl. The difference is striking.  

Every day I am reminded of my strengths and weaknesses, every day I seek to practice control so that my vibration of peace is not disrupted by the otherwise trivial affectations of my fellow man.  If it is felt, then it is real [enough] to validate my consistent desire to improve myself so that I may help improve the world I live in.  

This world I share with others.