"At certain hours poetry gives out waves of calm. From being imagined, calm becomes an emergence of being. It is like a value that dominates, in spite of minor states of being, in spite of a disturbed world."
~ Gaston Bachelard
A quiet post this morning. A slow waking, some meditation, a counting to twelve.
A song to listen to - "Bless Up."
Yesterday I gathered roses. I gathered all the buddhas from the various parts of our house, from outside. I don't know exactly why, or where ideas like this come from. I think I was wanting to enter waves of calm, to create them.
No need to hurry. No need to sparkle. No need to be anybody but oneself.
~ Virginia Woolf