Perhaps it is because I just finished reading David Crosby’s autobiography Long Time Gone, but yesterday when I was driving home from the store I realized something about myself that is strange: I drive like I’m holding, and when I say holding I mean carrying or otherwise transporting illegal substances. Not that I do that anymore, but I suppose it’s a habit that dies hard. Taking less populated streets, turning off when there are rollers (i.e., police cars) within a mile sight ahead and particularly behind. Being very careful to observe speed limits, stop signs, and so on. Maybe I’m just an old hippie at heart … LOL. But it doesn’t matter what vehicle I’m driving, how far the distance, how well I know the neighborhood, what my frame of mind is … I drive like I’m worried about getting busted. Quite odd, I suppose.
- KinshipIf just one word I write or say, some thought I manage to convey in describing my frame of mind or experience in this life …
- A Meditation HaikuTake a slow breath. Don’t hold it long; let it go. See, there is more air. Take a good, long look; Don’t scan the scene …
- The Starting Point – a cywydd deuair fyrionWhat matters most, do you suppose, at living’s end when these doors close: the riches cached, the virgins wooed, the years achieved, the sins eschewed? …
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