what is this thing, this ego, this wanting to be seen, this never-ending hunger to be heard? The moments when I am happiest are when this is
not nagging at me, when it is quiet, when it stops, and the fog clears and all around is pulsing with life. Then I see you and the soft snow falling and breath and life moving.
what is this thing, this ego, this wanting to be seen, this never-ending hunger to be heard? The moments when I am happiest are when this is not nagging at me, when it is quiet, when it stops, and the fog clears and all around is pulsing with life. Then I see you and the soft snow falling and breath and life moving.
.
Now after two soft boiled eggs and a slice of rye toast with a espresso. …the snow is still falling, I see it twice, through the glass door at the front of the house and thru the back of the house reflected in a small mirror thru the dreamcatcher.. The concern about the ego has vanished for a while…Does this mean it has taken over or has it been fed and slithered back into it’s cozy cave? I notice that when I try to write in this blog, or anywhere with the idea of writing it down, things get held backand the writing is clumsy. I think I can only write when I forget that writing is what I am trying to do. Gotta just do it..let it happen, allow the words to form into the feelings that are within and wanting to be seen. Sunday morning..
marcharhenwritesitdown 