Thinking about something is like picking up a stone when taking a walk, either while skipping rocks on the beach, for example, or looking for a way to shatter the glass doors of a museum. When you think about something, it adds a bit of weight to your walk, and as you think about more and more things you are liable to feel heavier and heavier, until you are so burdened you cannot take any further steps, and can only sit and stare at the gentle movements of the ocean waves or security guards, thinking too hard about too many things to do anything else. [Lemony Snicket, The End]
I find that thinking about something gives it a sense or BEing real, or realer than it actually is. Like my thoughts about wanting to live a monastic Life. People look at me funny when I say this, but for me it is what I most want.
Now, coming somewhat out of the haze of chemo and radiation, at the time of the year here when it is “window weather” and Morning Adventures with Gracie can happen long after the sun is up, I find myself drawn more and more to that idea.
Sometimes just the idea is enough to bring peace.
I’m glad I know what is Enough.
I love you, Currie