...the sky is grey...with pockets of blue, but grey all the same. Today, the weather mimed my perspective, or is it the other way around?...Moments of clarity with storms coming and going, always looking for that elusive blue emergence, knowing, or at least thinking I know it is there...Not the changes of my circumstance, but the changes in my perspective...that is the true reality, right? I know the sky is always there, I know that. I wish I always "got it," every moment, though. Maybe THAT is what being awake is...
. Seems that life's events are merely the paint brushes; they barely matter at all in this transient, impermanent existence...so, I could paint stormy clouds with my day...or, a sunset...or, an ocean...a mountain. a smile.
My painting, my self, is a work in progress.
Peace.
