Little bag of incense, where do you belong? It sat on the table in the middle of the "maybe" things and "yes" things, but one suitcase is packed and the others are waiting.
So I lit a stick. & discovered, really discovered, the beauty of smoke. It curls, folds, ripples, and rises, all right in front of your eyes in this little thing called reality. & all you have to do is sit back and watch. What a pleasant by-product! Did everyone know this?
So some little dinky item that I wasn't sure served a purpose in my life had me kneeling, elbows on the dresser, actually sighing "wowww" alone in my room. Thus, I'm packing my incense and will have one more thing to do in my TV-less east coast apartment.
You have to realize beauty on your own. No one can explain or the importance of February sunsets or heat rising off a car on a summer day. They can try to show you, but you must find it on your own - let it bring you to your knees on your own.
I need to do more of that. The nature within reach is enough entertainment.
If that makes me a hippie, then sobeit.
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