Sunday, April 13, 2008
It's all about timing
I've been obsessing about bars these days. As in, "you better get used to these bars, kid." I suppose it's some kind of imaginal metaphor for my ego's desire to transcend the addictions of thought, or something, as I remain unrooted this year.
It's no secret that I'm itching to nest. But I'm gearing up for another big move. The transition continues.
This ole oak tree is not imprisoned though. From its perspective, it is momentarily snuggled up with its piney brethren. In thirty years, the oak will be in the clear again, and again, and again. This old oak has seen some things. The bars flicker in and out, and there's plenty of air to breathe.