Category Archives: Consciousness
God Without Religion (for Barry Lopez)
Maybe our star is just an orb of fusion held by gravity and physics to apply energy to our little nonet here atthe spiral edge of a galaxy we can almost comprehend with the awareness we have acquired over our … Continue reading
Listen. That’s good; now listen some more. Good. Why is itthat when you focus on listening,it seems to get quieter? Maybe it is your self that quiets. (ear: kidshealth.org.nz; horizon: wallup.net)
Haiku: Days of Sand
Sand under my wheels–Ain’t no words for how it feels–Just one of those deals. (Photo: Narble Furt)
Another essay I want to share. I’d rather have it sit here on narble.blog than hide in my directory structure. ~JimS. It’s late evening. I’m standing on a front porch in Gearhart, Oregon, on the dune I’ve come to call … Continue reading
Consciousness,the universe is–a way to understandand make small enougha vastness into parts.Your mind will nevergrasp the whole, no,that is a feelingfor your soulto warm whencold clasps your heartand galaxies never seenseem almost familiarand close enoughto nod acquaintance.Understanding isaccepting you cannot.
An Example of Daily Writing
(Here’s an example of a the beginning of a daily writing session. Initially, I made no edits. But I couldn’t stand it, so now it’strying to become a poem. I’ve changed the original, so my firsteffort has been subverted. Silly … Continue reading
I hope everyone reading this is having (or had) a special wonderful day. Gratitude is a driving power in the Universe. We all should exercise it more often. Every. Single. Day. This is from Michael Murphy, author of Golf in … Continue reading
Okay. Another shameless plug: https://itunes.apple.com/us/book/white-ravens/id1439393149?ls=1&mt=11 The collection goes live tomorrow.
The Road Takes a Break in Nakusp, B.C.
The breeze off Arrow lake sways the curtains in my room, robbing the ghosts of places to hide. The fan blurs the ceiling where peeled wallpaper casts vibrating shadows, like insect wings stuck to my leather. The confused air stirs … Continue reading
Dead of Night
Pulled out of Tonopah at half-past last heading up ninety-five. Rocks were glowing—sand was blowing, saw absolutely nothing alive. Realized then: what did I know, is there anything real I see? This highway runnin’ in the dead of night is … Continue reading