rolling thoughts gather moss…
Each day as I walk up or down the trail through the woods, the easiest thing to do is think about what comes next. Is the finish dry on the vanity? Did I leave my notebook at the house? Do I have enough cherry quarter inch ply for the cabinet backs? Which hooks do I need for Aaron’s coatrack?
The problem is that I’m thinking all that time, unavoidably with words, and I pay no attention to the marvelous wood world around me. The incredibly tiny and delicate grey-green mosses on the alders. The hint of red on the branch tips that suggest spring is really just around the corner. I’m slowly getting used to just looking, seeing, not thinking all the time (though the latter is exactly what I’m doing now). Looking, breathing, listening on my trail may be as close as I come to anything like meditation. Words aren’t adequate for some important parts of life.
My reading lately confirms that I’m not the only one who has that problem. As subatomic physicists try to understand and describe what is the nature of this world– this universe–words fail. In their absence, there is mathematics . But there is also silence and wonder. There is no end of mystery.
I’m heading down the trail right now for another look at that amazing alder moss….