Category Archives: spirituality

Moment of Catharsis?

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One morning recently I was reciting my prayers when I began to notice the welling of tears in the corners of my eyes. Soon the wellings became a slow stream down each cheek. And, before long, I was more or less sobbing. For a little while.

Where did the tears come from? Why was I crying? Well, to be honest, it’s a mystery.

No mystery, you might be thinking: Sounds like your tears were brought on for some reason by reading the prayers.

I’m not so sure. I used the words ‘reciting my prayers’ deliberately: Not only was I not paying attention to, or even seeing the words on the paper, I was not engaged in the least in the words themselves and their meaning.

Rather than ‘praying’ I was reciting from memory, rote fashion, as if chanting my times tables in primary school. Merely mouthing the words; my mind was blank, as in not there, distant, off doing what my mind does, without awareness from me, when I’m trying to pay attention.

So, was this some sort of moment of catharsis? Possibly, or so it seems to me.

Sometimes – often spontaneously, other times with some forewarning – there is a release: a shedding of tears, as in my story above; a heavy inner or outer sigh of relief; sometimes simply a sense of something let go, something gone, or at least on the way to being gone.

When such moments of catharsis take place, often what causes them, the catalyst, appears obvious. On the other hand – as in my recent sobbing session – that catalyst is a mystery, unrelated in any obvious way to anything happening at that moment, or at least to anything taking place on the surface of that moment.

Equally the cause for the tears, sighs, relief, and so on – the object of any potential catharsis – may also be a mystery. I had no idea at the time, nor do I know now, what caused my tears.

The prayer being recited at the time was about silence. But, as I’ve already mentioned, no way was I actually praying, what with my total lack of attention, obliviousness to the words, my mental blankness. My unconsciousness come to think of it. Nothing to suggest a catalyst or catharsis.

In any case, when such miraculous happenings occur, one thing I try (I hope) to remind myself to not do: Do not ask why. Let catharsis – or whatever process is underway – be as it is.

And to put aside my habitual tendency to analyse and categorise; resist the temptation to want to know and label everything that happens to me. Let the catharsis – if that’s what it is – carry on as it does and not dismiss it as: ‘Oh that’s just me getting emotional.’ Or ‘I must be a bit overtired today.’

To – wildly and freely – paraphrase a few words from an iconic movie character:

Catharsis is as catharsis does.

Taking it Slowly, Taking it Mindfully

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A small irony revealed itself to me just now as I prayed my way through the prayers inserted in the front of my Bhagavad Gita.

I’d completed one prayer and turned the page to the next. Then, without a pause or thought, I quickly turned the page again. I stopped, thought better of it, and turned back to attend to the prayer I’d skipped over.

Now, here’s the irony: The prayer on the first side of that carelessly and mindlessly leafed past page read simply:

Go slowly and mindfully in everything.

Well, that’s not the ironey itself. But, given that this was the page I had simply passed over without a thought, with no pause, the words written there obviously were a lesson for me.

A message to contemplate, to actually stop and pause with, mull over, meditate on, and perhaps make resolutions over. Advice to me to stop, to slow down.

Couldn’t be clearer really.

There’s no telling why I skimmed past that page, that prayer, without a pause. Could be a simple case of absent-mindedness, or a rush to see what was on the next page; a grass is greener type of thing.

Why I was rushing through the pages isn’t the point. What is to the point is here I am, doing morning prayers, praying some, then skipping others. The other point is that in this instance, for some reason I stopped, went back, and prayed the skipped prayers.

So, moving to the resolution.

It’s extraordinary to me when that kind of thing happens. (It does happen quite a lot, but unfortunately I only notice it occasionally) We will have an intuition, or receive a message from ourself that helps to us get back on track when we mess up.

In any case, it’s obvious that I’ve found what I might call the prayer of the day, the mission statement, so to speak, informing whatever activities I undertake today.

Slow and mindful in everything I do, say, and think. For now, for the present, that will the guide on the path of today that I will follow. Keeping in mind the adage that practise makes perfect, for when I falter.

Oh, another irony wrapped up with this one. The prayer on the facing page was also skipped, and in itself sheds another light on the message from that first one. That second prayer actually puts forward one, important, way in which I can actually set about achieving  that first one:

In other words: place more focus on, pay more attention to, the Divine in whatever form, and by whatever name, I encounter it today.

Works both ways I think: Making the effort to go slowly, to be mindful, puts us in the present moment. And, the present moment is the only place we’re going to be able to become aware of the Divine.

Then, as we become aware of the presence of the Divine, we are right where we need to be, when we need to be there in order to actually slow down and be more mindful.

PS These notes were made a few hours ago. Since then, I have on the whole practised being slow and mindful. Not perfectly, mind you, but then as I say, practise makes perfect. Even now as I type this – very attentively – my mind wanders, so there is a way to go for me. The day is not over yet!

A Prayer to Share: for the Divine Mother

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Namaste and Welcome

Today I would like to share with you a prayer (it’s a poem too, but …) I’ve written in praise of the Divine Mother. It’s actually the second prayer I’ve written to and for her. I shared that first one, called simply, A Prayer to the Divine Mother on the blog previously and you can find it here.

That post will also give you some background to my reverence for the Divine Mother – what she means to me; where my initial devotion comes from; my heart sense that this universal creative energy drives and sustains all creation; and finally how Divine Mother may be worshipped in many and varied (and even no) forms.

The prayer I share with you today – Jai Shree Maa –  emerged as I knelt chanting those exact word at the alter of a holy place dedicated to the Divine Mother as revered by many in her form as Our Lady of the Rosary.

It is a temple in that name I sometimes go pilgrimming to for quietness, meditation, and devotion.

Please accept my prayer. Thank you

JAI SHREE MAA

In this temple to the Divine Mother
upon my knees and praying.
Jai Shree Maa

I chant with sacred love in my heart,
sacred words upon my lips.
Jai Shree Maa

Divine Mother, with these words,
Jai Shree Maa
I invoke your holy presence;
I speak from my heart to yours.

With love and wishes for peace

Paul the Hermit

A Day of Silence Observed

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A few days ago we observed a day of silence here in the Hermitage. Our initial idea was to have a day of less talking, more quiet, which we hoped would help us reach a state of silence. We timed our little effort to coincide with a similar event being observed in an ashram in India whose foundation teacher we admire very much. A way for us to perhaps associate with others on a similar path out there (in there?) in the invisible community.

It’s not that we don’t experience periods of quiet (no talking) and even the aspired to silence, we do. Quite often they can be reasonably extended periods too, when meditating, chanting, studying, and so on.

But, it does have to be said, that we do spend a lot of time talking with its associated thinking – and unthinking too; with its listening – and not listening.

Of course, there are things we actually want or need to talk about; just that for us, sometimes we end up talking about stuff that’s not needed, as well we fall into what we call the adharmic trap of gossip, judgement, needless repetition, and the rest of the not so right speech.

Anyway, we wanted our day of quiet to be as complete as possible, so we agreed to not even discuss mundane and practical things unless it was absolutely essential. (Who gets to decide what’s ‘essential’ and not? Good question).

Around midday on the day in question I made a few notes on how my day was going so far. I had a vague notion I would make notes periodically through the day as a kind of ‘casual log. Needless to say, an approach of such vague casualness resulted in the notes made at midday being the only ones to actually come into existence.

Still, even though the notes were made relatively early in the day, I do think that they are a pretty good summary of my feelings on the day as a whole. So, let me share those brief reflections with you now:

Thus far (about 12) we are keeping silence (or at least not talking) – mostly. Practical things are sometimes tricky, sometimes not. It’s easy for example to point to a cup which translates to ‘Would you like a cup of tea?’. The reply which was ‘no thank you but I would like half a cup of soya drink’ took a bit more translational effort. Due of course to an almost complete lack of experience in speaking without umm, speaking.

Mind you,only three or four actual words spoken, along with a ton of hand gestures and facial expressions, did result in the transmitting and receiving  of understanding.

PLUSES SO FAR  

A sample of what it is like to be quiet, and actually being in quiet. And a happy anticipation (along with a sense of relief experienced in the present) of not having to talk about all the tired old things: the weather, the world, the ins and outs of teachings, teachers or writers, as well as ‘other people’, which often end up in judgements, criticisms, and plain simple gossip.

Alongside this overall positive vibe, there is a kind of nervousness. Where it comes from, I can’t say; probably an anxiety to do with not talking about the usual things. Though of course it’s only been a few hours.

While there has been little out loud talking, my mind has been running crazy, and I’ve had a strong compulsion to keep busy. Put these issues with the nervousness? To be expected really I think given my lack of experience with intentional quiet.

One step at a time.


Well, clearly that compulsion to keep busy didn’t extend to further note keeping, but, yes I have to say I did keep busy. Ironically some of that ‘busyness’ did in fact result in a few glimpses of silence.

I spent time working on an art piece in a prayerful manner, and in a quiet state; none of the all too usual chatter. Silence. I meditated for longer periods than usual, which allows for a deepening of a quiet mind (in theory that is). And when I chanted mantra, I think I may have been a little calmer and quieter of mind than usual.

Clearly the cultivation of silence – and even the seemingly straightforward task of simply not talking – is a practice that requires more practise, quite a lot of practise in my case.

We need to develop alternative communication strategies – hand signals, signs, gestures – to minimise speaking even more. Having said that if we’re to develop silence then even communicating about mundane stuff in other ways would get in the way. Too much talking!

Well, I occasionally make photos out there in the world

One very pleasing outcome is that I feel slightly less inclined to ‘talk about the outside world’ and other people. Less idle chatter. It’s a good start and it can only get better with some of the aforementioned practice.

Actually, thinking about it now, you’d think that a hermit who rarely goes out of the Hermitage except for a walk or occasional visits to a shop, who doesn’t watch the news or social media and the rest, wouldn’t have a lot to gossip or blah blah about.

That’s why, you see, I say that I really do need quite a lot more practice. Making silence is a long term project, an aspiration if you like, to find inner peace and make myself more able to radiate love to the world.

Love and Peace

Paul the Hermit

Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa, Mea Culpa

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Every blogger will tell you that, for every one idea that leads to an actual published post, there are very many others that have fallen away: an idea that won’t or can’t be developed much; ideas that just don’t resonate; some ideas simply do ‘not fit’ with the overall theme of the blog. All kinds of reasons for an idea to not make it into a post.

Such has been the case with me recently – twice it happened, in a row. I abandoned them both while still notes in this notebook, At the time(s) I felt that these two potential posts just weren’t working and weren’t going to.

Then, yesterday, it happened again, this one making it to the typed stage. This time I realised that it was something other than an unworkable idea – after all, this was the third time in a very short period. There was definitely more to it. So, I went back and reread those two previous rejected posts, to try to find the links, if I could.

Smug, fake – as in as phoney as – ego driven, arrogant and self opinionated (note the small s please). Not to forget they all shouted to me of a reach for a sense of self importance.

Rereading the three it felt as if one could sum it all up by stating: ‘This writer has an ego as big as a house and it’s out of control.’

To tell you the truth, it has shocked me, this run of ego boosting rubbish I’ve been writing lately. The weird thing is, in all three cases, I think the actual themes or ideas have potential; just the tone and style disturbs me.

I know enough about my own mind and how I respond to conditions and circumstances (not to mention moods, emotions and the rest) in my life to know – and I knew it right away from my rereading – that such ego driven, arrogant, self (don’t forget the small s here as well) important stuff comes as a symptom, a sign.

It’s a symptom – an expression – of a low opinion of myself, a problem with self-esteem, a sense that I’m not good enough.
Trying to boost myself up, that’s what it’s all about. In other words I was – have been – blinded by my ego/mind.

Admittedly my ego and my mind were only trying to make me feel better, and, especially with ego in the mix, I led myself astray. Their intentions were good (to cheer up the only ‘me’ they know), but the ego was is not my way.

However, this post isn’t about analysing me or whatever. It is an apology. An apology to my community, both the visible and the not so visible (that includes you dear reader).

I ask forgiveness of Self – this time with the big S

A thousand thank yous and much love

From Your servant

Paul the hermit.

Flowing With the River of Life: A Work in Progress

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O Lord, I take refuge in You.
You are my sole guide, my master.
Show me the right path and
I shall follow it.

This is a prayer I like very much. It appeared one day in a previous incarnation of this notebook, then migrated to my prayer book. Its origins are lost in the mists of forgetfullness.

In any case, I like it – a lot. In a big picture kind of way it encapsulates much about the way I aspire to live my life; what I aspire to devote my life and energies to.

The prayer is addressed to the ‘Lord’ – to the Divine; to the Absolute Reality of (to borrow a favourite phrase) Life, the Universe, and Everything. Some will call this God, some think of it as the creator. For me it is simply Lord: all that is existence.

And it is there that I aspire to take refuge. I seek shelter in the knowledge of the rightness and order of the universe. Not an easy task when I think about the state of life ‘on the ground’ on our home planet; how the horrors can be almost impossible to grasp, to understand, and to keep from despairing over.

But a contented state of refuge, of safety, security, and even happiness, may be found, I sense, by a cooperation with what we might call the flow of the river of life.

And if I am to discover for myself that refuge, then there really is only one choice: to accept that flow of the river of life as my only guide to how to live, what to do, how to be.

Not surprisingly I struggle with the idea of cooperating with and accepting the often crazy and random nature of that flow of my life as my ‘sole guide’; how much harder is it to accept that very river as my master?

Again, if I ever want to be happy, if I ever hope to be free from suffering and attachments to those things that cause me to suffer, then I must accept and cooperate with the reality: the river of life is the master whether I like it or not. I may as well accept it.

Which absolutely and I hope obviously, does not mean I’m a fatalist, or that I am resigned to just let the currents toss me about willy nilly. No, not at all.

My deep sense (yet another site for other struggles) that the solution to suffering does indeed lie in an acceptance of the reality of the flow of life as it’s happening moment to moment.

By not resisting life and what it presents to me, I aspire to arrive at a state of acceptance where I might contentedly and freely ask what is my role here? What is the universe asking me to do?

If I can listen, and actually hear with the ear of my heart, then I might be able to discern the path, which if followed, will free me from suffering .

Then I shall be going with the flow, following the path of least resistence, and I’ll be contributing to my own smooth (well, smoother at least) ride through life.

We are Many, Yet We are One

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To ‘check the weather’ is to actively seek knowledge – news – of the world; it’s asking, what’s going on out there? Kind of an attachment, and in most cases, most of the time, I don’t seek out news of the world, but in certain circumstances it does sometimes seem necessary.

So, because it’s been raining heavily, and there have has been some minor flooding not too far from us, I checked the Bureau of Meteorology earlier this morning – I have an app on my phone.

Along with the air temperature, the measured and predicted rainfall, and other weather related details, there is list of ‘Current Severe Weather Warnings’.

There were three listed: big surf (we’re a couple of kilometres from the coast), big winds, and a third which leapt out and grabbed me, or putting it more accurately, it reached out and grabbed my heart.


Photo by Jeffrey Hemsworth on Unsplash

A ‘Sheep Graziers’ Warning’ it’s called. It’s purpose is to warn farmers, that due to cold temperatures, heavy rain, and high winds, there is a risk of ‘losses to lambs and sheep exposed to these conditions.’

In other words, lambs and sheep might die if left out in the weather.

That casual check of the weather has now exposed me to some of that information of the world, the news, that I usually avoid. And that news has impacted my heart, my soul.

The risk of ‘loss’ to those sheep – and lambs – is to me as devastating as it would be when any other being is at risk of suffering or death. And, obviously, I’m absolutely aware at the same level that many creatures of many and varied species – including my own – are at this moment exposed to the very same risks.

One of the thoughts that occur to me is this: The very reason for these warnings is so that farmers can take the appropriate action to protect and safeguard the creatures in their care.

Another thought: the sheep have no choice. Like the rest of us living beings they are subject to the conditions that play out in the material world. Of course we can add a little perspective to this: I am making these notes in a warm, dry and safe hermitage.

(Then, as I began to type up those notes just now, there was a very short but powerful thunder and lightning storm accompanied by very heavy hail. Once again I am warm, dry and safe.)

All beings are prisoners in a sense, to their material bodies, and, as I said, subject to suffering due to the material world. What we, as individual beings, or individual species, can do to reduce our suffering is going to always vary from individual to individual, from species to species.

I suppose what I’m getting at is that all of us – all beings – need help of one sort or another at some point, to release us or protect us from suffering.

I must admit that very often feel helpless when it comes to what I’m able to do to relieve the suffering of the world – my own, the suffering of those close to me, and that of all beings.

You know, I don’t not watch the news so I can avoid being upset or sad or angry which are often my reactions when seeing or reading news of the world. While I don’t enjoy those emotions when they come, it’s more the emotion they lead to that really bothers me: more and more feelings of helplessness.

And helplessness for me causes paralysis: whatever little I might otherwise be able to do, I cannot. For example, since checking that weather report I haven’t been able to settle to my prayers, my meditation, my chanting, and study; I am not, right now able to do any of the things I would normally do as my way of contributing to the welfare of other beings. Paralysis.

So, here I am making notes that will become a post to share with you. A story of checking the weather; of empathy with other beings; my feelings of inadequacy at not being able to relieve their suffering – as well as my own for that matter.

But, I will pray. I promise. Prayer is healing, prayer banishes helplessness.

Those sheep – as well as all other beings – and I are not separate; I am them and they are me. We are the One.

A Prayerful Poetics, A Poetic Prayer

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Just about to open my tablet to retrieve an email I’d sent myself a day or two ago with a prayer attached that I’d found in a book.

But I stopped: I felt, no, no need to transcribe that prayer; I sense some words of my own that are struggling to emerge (actually paraphrasing a very vague sense and direction here; I rarely think – or speak – in such a formal way). So, I left my tablet and reached for my notebook instead

So, what emerged? Well, it’s a prayer and it’s a poem. It’s a prayer or a poem, Either or, and both. In any case, here is the first draft – I only got these words down on paper a half hour ago.

Words from my heart to my heart. A prayer to my Self, a prayer to all that is. And it’s a poem too, remember!
So, now I share this prayer (or poem?) with you.

I am, you are, we are.

Thou art that

MY LORD, WHAT SHALL BE MY PRAYER?

My Lord, what shall be my prayer?
Oh, where even to begin.

There are painful fragments from the past,
fear-fuelled fantasies of the future.
None of them real. None of them mine.
The mind only controls.
Yet clinging to them haunts me.

I aspire to monkhood, to the hermit life.
Yet to desires of many kinds I am attached.

I long to be absorbed in Bhakti;
I long to worship, to praise, and to celebrate All
Ceaseless prayer I aspire to,
to be absorbed in communion.
Yet again the ego-mind
fills me with reason’s illusions
and endless words of the world.
I am barricaded, from You.

I strive to remember who I am;
to recall who You are.
Within the words of this prayer lies that memory:
I am. You are.
Thou Art That.

Breathing Free & Easy Through My Life: I Wish

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There’s this funny little thing I do; it’s an odd little habit. On the face of it, at first glance, it’s not really anything to bother about. Just another little quirk that could easily be dismissed to add to my long list of such quirks.

Don’t laugh. I’ve had this habit for I have no idea how long, and I’ve been wanting for ages now to stop and think about it: why I do it? Can I stop it? You know the thing. Well, I’ve taken steps to try to change it, but still, I think it’s time to look at it properly.

You see, I am prone to holding my breath. Just to illustrate: as I held my pen poised about to write that last sentence: I held my breath. What directly prompted this renewed resolve to finaly get down to facing the facts, is that just a little earlier I’d made a cup of tea, and when I went to put it down on the table? Yes, I held my breath.

I’m likely to hold my breath (for a short moment) at any old time: Bend down to pick up a dropped pen? Hold the breath. Raise a forkful of food to my mouth? Hold my breath. Do one or any of my regular physical exercises? I have to really watch myself, otherwise I’d not breathe at all doing them.

All the time, and at any time, as I said. Why? Well, that’s the question isn’t it? I can kind of understand it as a pause, a way to summon up focus and physical energy before doing a task requiring much physical (or mental?) effort.

But that’s just a guess really. As you probably could imagine, I’ve never discussed breath holding issues with anyone else. Well, present company excepted.

Anyway, my guess doesn’t really tally with the lightweight activities, like my pen poising before a new sentence, or my breath suspending before taking a bite of food. Something else is at play here.

So, what is air? What is it good for exactly? Well, umm, it’s a gaseous combination of a whole heap of ‘stuff’, the key one for us here is oxygen. And, more or less obviously we mammals and other beings too, need oxygen to breathe – to keep breathing. In other words it’s the ideal means of staying alive.

I guess that’s why some traditions call air, not only an element, but a sacred element. Life giving, life sustaining – some call it the Life Force, or Prana. Of course these two terms encompass other elements and concepts, but air is pretty much a fundamental component of the whole eqaution.

Next question: If I know it to be the life force, that which keeps me alive, why would I choose to suspend breathing? No, after pausing here (and holding my breath briefly), I’ve concluded that I very much doubt that I’m trying through this little habit to curtail the flow of the Life Force, or Prana through my body.

So, specifically, what does air do in the body? Well, it fills the lungs, which then somehow get the oxygen into the bloodstream (the heart’s job?), which in turn carries that oxygen to the brain, other organs, and to the muscles. I hope you will forgive my over-reliance on such complex technical jargon.

Once again, I can’t see how holding my breath as I poise my pen, is intended to deprive my arm muscles – and my brain – of the fuel needed to help the pen do its work of putting words on paper.

Anxiety? Well, finally we might be getting somewhere at last. When we get a fright, or fear something, or watch scary stuff in a movie, we will often ‘hold our breath in suspense’.

Maybe that’s where the breath holding habit began for me. Not watching movies, but perhaps when confronted with anxiety making situations. Of course picking up a pen is hardly a cause for anxiety, though eating might be?

Well, maybe those ‘little things’ are where the habit became a habit, but now I’m starting to think this breath holding might be a habit without a cause.

At least no consistent cause or causes. Anyway, there’s no point to  dredging the past to try to find out the why of the thing. What’s important  and the only thing we can impact on is now; best to pay attention to here and now;

So, I suppose the conclusion is simple: Sometimes a quirky little habit is just that, a quirky little habit.

PS A habit to be done away with mind you. Time for some little reconditioning of myself. I’d prefer not to hold my breath while writing notes, while eating, or while doing my exercises – or when doing anything else for that matter. The brain, the digestion, the muscles – this entire being – needs oxygen, and it’s my job to make sure that it flows freely and easily to everywhere it’s needed.

No Internet Reception? Is It a coincidence?

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My last post spoke of the need for spiritual seekers to have association with devotees, fellow travellers on a spiritual path. I extolled the virtues for hermits living more secluded lives with the little physical contact, such as me, of accessing the Internet to find stories of past and present spiritual seekers, as a means to satisfy that need for association.

Watching videos, reading books and articles online, exploring websites managed by individuals or groups, all present opportunities for association.

I pointed out how all these activities are blessing in that they help instill a sense of connection and belonging, how they confirm the reality that I am not alone. Encouraging and inspiring, I said it was – and it is.

However, I did neglect to point out that there are hazards, pitfalls, slippery slopes, triggers for depression, anger, sadness. For me, spending time ‘online’ should come with an ‘enter at your own risk’ warning.

This is especially the case when spending time on the video watching apps, where you can watch unlimited videos on an unlimited range of topics.

Call it temptation; call it the magnetism of old attachments and conditioning; call it what I like: the reality is that, after too much time watching videos online, I will often start to drift, just for a ‘quick look’, just a short spell of lookin but ‘just a bit’. Not forgetting the sad resolve to only look at ‘stuff that’s good for me’.

A sad resolve I said because so often what I ‘have a quick look’ at is news, movie clips; anything that tugs at my old ways and habits, anything that pushes old buttons and triggers my old depressive and decidedly non-peaceful, melancholic self.

It doesn’t happen that often, not anymore. But when it does, I have a sense of sinking back into the mire of worldliness as it’s called. I feel the falling into the aforementioned pit. Even stuff I have strong aversions to, such as certain political leaders, reach out to grab me when such moments arise.

Anyway, such a slide down the slippery slope has been threatening the last couple of days. So, tonight I decided: no videos or other web stuff. Time for a break; time to clear my mind and relax.

The only online thing I thought I’d do is post some photos on a photo sharing site I belong to. Watching videos and other web stuff, causes me to neglect important things, like sharing my photos, sitting quietly, reading; all the good things. Time to settle. Time to catch up.

So, all set up to begin sharing, all that was missing was an Internet connection. I tried rebooting devices; all the usual remedies. Still no connection. Twenty minutes later I finally got it: the Universe wasn’t going to allow me anywhere  near the Internet.

Interesting timing, I thought. I decide no Internet (sort of) but the Universe has other ideas: Absolutely no Internet.

Of course Internet dropping out is hardly a unique event. It’s not as if it’s even a rare or occasional occurance.
Still, the last few days, the connection has been excellent. Then, tonight, nothing. Could be a coincidence? But then I don’t believe in coincidences.

Whatever. Now I am happily writing a blog post to share with you, then I’m going to actually make some pictures – been neglecting that too. Then, after that I’m going to get back to a partly read but excellent book I’ve lost touch with. Time to reengage.

Meanwhile, I will choose to think that the Universe is unfolding exactly as it’s meant to.

No Internet? No problem.