What was executed in each of us, denied, destroyed?
Last night when I drove home the leaves were blowing across the street. The pumpkin patch opened yesterday. It was the equinox, and now, we move toward fall. One man spoke at Toastmasters of his months in the medical system. He was on life-support and unconscious for seven days and when he came out of it and saw the stacks of cards, he felt the love eminating from them, and knew he would live. He saw his care-givers and himself as connected. When he was moved from the hospital to a place to rehabilitate, he again connected and reached to learn about those who cared for him. He learned they were Filipino, and delighted to share their lives as they cared.
I spoke to a man last night about perception. What does each of us see and hear? What do we miss, or is it a missing? What do we bring to form? How do we balance creativity and routine? He shared this quote of Flaubert. He said it changed his life.
Be regular and orderly in your life, so that you may be violent and original in your work. Gustave Flaubert
I loved my time with Senna, my son and his wife's new rescued greyhound. I watched him explore his new life. At times he is alone for the first time ever. He has a yard that is his; he has family. He is a treasure for us all. For him, everything is new.
It should be that way for us all. Always new.
May this day be met by each of us with the freshness of new formed dew.