Apparently I’ve forgotten how to write. I know I love to write but I don’t do it. Isn’t that the way with so many things. With with relationships, with stillness. We forget, trivialise and fail to invest. Sometimes it’s about not knowing where start or how to keep going. Priorities get hung up on stupid things or things that are by-products of the things we actually want.
Time is an arkenstone.
What do you want? What really matters? These are questions that should hang around.
I was driving up the mountain one day – at least a year ago now, and there was a car stopped next to me at the lights. A small bird was frantically flying at and crashing into the drivers side window. Fly, crash, repeat. It was weird. There was a wonderfully ominous storm cloud at the top of the mountain. It fit together so well that I often think of it. Maybe we’re like that bird? Too invested in our own reflection to be properly connected with who we are.
Bird metaphors suck. But I still like them and I won’t forget it.