Reading harold_maude's journal

I was watching the trees this morning. Their branches and leaves dancing to the music of the wind. Just going with the invisible flow that was all around them. I kind of got lost watching and what I began to notice is that in someplaces the trees seemed absoulty still, while in other places the leaves and branches were shaking so violently that some of the leaves left the tress to dance in the breath of the wind...an invisable timeless melody that I wish someone would translate into more reconizable notes...poetry in the sky that dips down and brushes the face of the earth. I suspect that we only get to see part of this living creative process. We get to feel it when we walk outside and a breeze catches us off gaurd and kisses us softly and giggles as it wraps and then unwraps it's self around us...and we just go on with life.
Our thoughts sometimes are like that too, in that place between deep sleep and awake time. When everything of the waking world is more still and the place where anything can happens starts to become more and more clear...I love that place, where the speed at which immages and ideas arn't road blocked by the things you have to get done. It's the place where often the answers to questions and problems present themselves, and where the surreal becomes reality. I love it when I'm there and someone is talking to me and I'm able to talk to them about what I'm seeing and experiencing.
Remembering dreams is too hard sometimes. Even after you first wake up, they seem to disapate so fast, except for thoese dreams that want to be remembered. Then you remember them. But most of the time I only seem to remember parts of dreams, but in that place in between, when some one talks to me, I seem to remember more, and it all moves at the speed of my thoughts...it's an awesome place...I think the wind lives there and the trees too, and the rest of nature. I thing they all live there and watch us as we scurry about our busy day, thinking to themselves, that we are missing most of the good stuff that happens.....that we're growing old and missing the best parts of life, both good and bad....and I think secretly they love it when we sleep, because I think that's when they can talk to us, and tell us stories, and we're caught there, and caught up....moving at the speed of the thoughts of the entire universe. No wonder I would rather stay asleep than be in the waking world.

It only looks that way because your standing on your head.

Wow... this is some very nice stuff h._m. Thank you. I love to sit in nature. Without a single sign of the manufactured, without all the things we create that we call God's own. There lies a beauty, an almost musical harmony, where everything is at peace with itself... it gives me hope.

P.S. Just wanted to let you know, I've been reading your other posts as well and I find many of them to be quite excellent. :)

But I can't find no place or nothin', where thrills are cheap, and love is divine

This post was edited by Bunk on Aug 26, 2004.

Thank you...this place we're living at is an organic farm, it's so beautiful here, there is so much life here. I get lost alot out here in how everything thrives to abundance. It's very peaceful and very healing here...God's artwork...all I can do is watch and try to keep learning...

thank you for your encouragement as well...I feel like I'm just wandering in what I'm writing and end up hoping it makes some kind of sense...thanks for letting me know it does.

It only looks that way because your standing on your head.