The forest for the trees

Acacia in Flower (or, Blossoming Acacia Branches)
Vincent van Gogh
1890

Lately I have struggled to see the forest for the trees, and for a gloominess of my own creation blanketing the light. I am working to re-discover what a pleasure it is to wake up at dawn, to move my body and tend to my home. When I bother to take a moment, stop and reconnect with what actually makes me happy instead of burying my mind in media and ugly habits, confusion turns to clarity and I feel like I can actually breathe.

Meditation and yoga is helping, and so is reworking my diet, writing and reading more books – but climbing out of my own ass has truly been the most effective thing.

 

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Such possibilities still exist

“When I was a boy, and when Dwayne Hoover was a boy, all the people of all the nations which had fought in the First World War were silent during the eleventh minute of the eleventh hour of Armistice Day, which was the eleventh day of the eleventh month.It was during that minute in nineteen hundred and eighteen, that millions upon millions of human beings stopped butchering one another. I have talked to old men who were on battlefields during that minute. They have told me in one way or another that the sudden silence was the Voice of God. So we still have among us some men who can remember when God spoke clearly to mankind.”

Kurt Vonnegut, Breakfast of Champions 

Vonnegut was a WWII vet and was present at the bombing of Dresden.

emona