Jane and I come to the library in Point Reyes Station as we wait to check into the Poet's Loft at 4. We hear the children’s story hour as we work. Little voices repeat exciting phrases. One little girl is encouraged to keep on her socks. We are here for three hours. People cycle through and in this moment, I feel like the still point, and I realize now the still point can observe.
We have a choice, perhaps, a choice of place in the atom, neuron, proton, electron, and we can be all three, and all the space. I saw a short film where a child arranged adults into the solar system. One was the sun, and another the moon. People as planets spun at varying speeds and distances. When asked, the child said he was the atom, and, yet, in the film, and perhaps in life, he had the power to arrange all the rest. Observe, and do!
Jane reads the blog for 2005. She says it is the river bed. Yes, and now, we choose where to place the rocks and cruise.
Choice. Is that why this part is hard? It is ours to choose and form. Before, all was. We were. Now, we make the earth and plant the sun and moon.
Jane and I are checked into the Poet’s Loft. Oh, my! It is beyond imagining. We are currently each sitting on the couch with our computers. Water gurgles all around us. We are over the water and so surrounded by water and air, that Mr or Ms Seagull is tapping to come in. We are in the sky, over the water, watching birds fly alone, in clumps, and V’s. Actually Jane is working. I am watching the water, birds and sky. The seagull is persistent and sounds like a barking dog. Ah, now, he, too, looks out to the view, or a view other than us. Nope, we seem to be quite entertaining to a gull. He watches us, hopeful, I imagine for a treat, or, maybe he is lonely and looking for conversation. He seems to want some social exchange.
One time, we took off in a helicopter in
A boat goes by. I wave to see if I, too, am seen. Yep!! Two fishermen wave back. Now, a trimaran motors by. He is absorbed in getting to port and probably Tony’s fish, wine, and beer. Okay, to work, even though now, another fishing bow roars by. It is gray and overcast and perfect for working, and yet, I am so enchanted with the waves and the grays, that I am having trouble focusing, and I will. Whoa. Gulls are skimming all over the place. The Blue Angels can't compete with this. We are in bliss!!