Patchy

Shall I compare thee to a summer's day? Why not? Shall I compare thee to a spring day? Or a winter's night? You are all these. And throughout you are my autumn afternoon. Bright. Breezy. Warm. Promising. Relaxed. Blessed.

Drifting

Some days I feel like meditating all day. Sitting at a window watching the light arc across the sky from sunrise to sunset. Or at least from the time I get up until sunset.

I wonder what this means. Am I escaping ordinary life or flying into a spiritual plane? Avoiding creative expression or connecting to a higher self? Actually, I'm doing neither because I think about it. I don't actually do it. The meditating.

Still, something calls me to a deeper practice, a more committed practice, a more active practice. I am a thinker. I tend to think a lot before doing. I like to be clear on intention and implementation before I begin. I suspect this may be a chicken-and-egg situation. I won't fully know what to do until I do it.

In the meantime, I have a sporadic practice. My standard meditation time is now 30 minutes. I journey once a month for 20-30 minutes. I consult the tarot and exercise my intuition. None of this happens in a disciplined way. It just happens.

Still thinking.

Moon phases

Half moon = half day, half night
Full moon = night
New moon = day

Missing something

Feel as though I ought to write something useful or serious before the end of the day. Can't think what though.

Details

There is time enough for everything under the sun.

Disembodied.

There's something comforting about listening to the non-visual voices of others. They are present yet unseen and they don't see me either. Or I see them and they don't see me. There's something sneaky about it and safe. No bodies makes everything less complicated. Life at a distance. A mildly removed distance which requires no expectations. I can be with them without them expecting me to behave a certain way. I can be sure they won't or can't judge me.

Not the end of the world

It's just a thing used for conveying. When the content has been conveyed the thing moves on or goes away. It is quite trivial compared to the essence of life. Focus on what is, not on what is not.

Rest

Sunday is still for me. I do what I choose from moment to moment. Sometimes I work. Often I read a mystery novel. Today while sitting in the sun. Lovely! I also cut the grass.

One thing I usually do is not check email. I let the dogs sleep. Monday I'll be ready for them.

Flits

Sudden urge to retire to bed and watch Inspector Morse episodes. Soooooooooo many things flit through the transom of my mind. I have meditation to thank for that awareness. It is a new drug I need to feel calm, centered, collected, and clear. hahahahaha The 4 Cs!

Anyway, a lot of urges attack me and now I have the luxury of being able to choose them instead of having them choose me.

Jupiter

Forms the head of the headless hunter. This explains praying to Jupiter. My feet itch.