and so I do not desire
pride of excess or power,
but the contentments made
by men who have had little:
the fisherman’s silence
receiving the river’s grace,
the gardener’s musing on rows.
I lack the peace of simple things.
I am never wholly in place.
I find no peace or grace.
We sell the world to buy fire,
our way lighted by burning men,
and that has bent my mind
and made me think of darkness
and wish for the dumb life of roots.
Got bored /(procrastinatey) and re-read some of my old archive posts. I have some amazingly nice followers. I wish I knew ya. I’m blown away by some of the messages I’ve gotten in the past. I should go to bed.
On another note, I have been digging the shit out of muesli. It’s desert, currently! The versatile food. Time to stalk my old fave blogs and head to the land of nod. Goodnight, anyone who reads these.
This is going to sound cheesy and whatever, I don’t care, but please just tell your family that you love them, because what takes a second can mean a whole lot to them, and it’s important to acknowledge what you have. Especially when it can be taken from you so easily.
"Distance and nearness are attributes of bodies
The journeyings of spirits are after another sort.
You journed from the embryo state to rationality
without footsteps or stages or change of place,
The journey of the soul involves not time and place.
And my body learnt from the soul its mode of journeying,
Now my body has renounced the bodily mode of journeying.
It journeys secretly and without form, though under a form.”
Jallaludin Rumi (1207-73), The Masnavi