Tuesday, December 29, 2009


For the past 3 or 4 days, I've woken up with the same thought, which might better be described as a curiosity. I wake up asking myself "what are these thoughts I'm having and these feelings?" It's not that I can't identify them or label them, but I just wonder about them. Thinking is peculiar. It's a strange experience when you think about it. You can say the same thing for all experience, and it's all true.

Take taste. Taste is a whole experience that is strange as shit. It blooms in all different flavors and textures. As my fingers rest on this keyboard thinking of what to type next, I'm sensitive to the strangeness of touch. It's an experience that is happening in the world, right-effing-now. In fact, all of this stuff is happening right-effin-now, and it is all very peculiar. Why is it all happening? What is happening? You can attach the same curiosity to panic, breathing, longing, and self-monitoring. It's strange and amazing. To me, this is what wondering is about: choosing problems with no real solutions. It's humbling and it engenders Rest. Try it?

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