Post by Powderbum75 / Redsky

Powderbum75 • Feed

The effort to reclaim something I have so willingly given away in recent years, my own attention span, has been a rewarding one. Though far from completed. Books help.

After a while he said he was tired, and he lay back and closed his eyes. I sat there watching his chest rise and fall until I was sure he was asleep. I'm now much older than he was that night, and I finally understand how much my father must have trusted me on that trip, how much he must have loved me. We're all on the side of a mountain shocked by how fast it's gotten dark; the only question is whether we're with people we love or not. There is no other thing-no belief or religion or faith-there is just that. Just the knowledge that when we finally close our eyes, someone will be there to watch over us as we head out into that great, soaring night.

aug 31, 2025, 12:51 am • 14 0

Replies

Keep up the good work! I have been working on that myself

aug 31, 2025, 1:09 am • 1 0 • view

But just as often, if not more often, the interruption comes not from another but from the self itself, or some other self within the self, that whistles and pounds upon the door panels and tosses it-self, splashing, into the pond of meditation. And what does it have to say? That you must phone the dentist, that you are out of mus-tard, that your uncle Stanley's birthday is two weeks hence. You react, of course. Then you return to your work, only to find that the imps of idea have fled back into the mist. It is this internal force-this intimate interrupter-whose tracks I would follow. The world sheds, in the energetic way of an open and communal place, its many greetings, as a world should. What quarrel can there be with that? But that the self can interrupt the self— and does—is a darker and more curious matter.

aug 31, 2025, 1:43 am • 0 0 • view