Something’s up on the interior landscape. All manner of gears are turning; a thousand thousand iron anvils hang suspended by spiderwebs. From horizon to horizon buildings are being demolished as new foundations are being laid. It’s an exciting time. Absolutely no idea what the new city will look like or when it will be ready for occupancy.

Walking through brick walls is easy. Just decide and you’re there.
The tricky part is getting yourself to the point of deciding, which ironically
feels a lot like banging your head against a brick wall.

Sometimes when I wake up in the morning I want to go back to sleep because I don’t want to leave my dream, so I roll over and try to crawl back inside. Other days I shoot out of bed like a rocket because I can see the dream that’s waiting for me and I can’t wait to explore it. Lately I’ve been experiencing more of the first kind of morning; it’s netting out at about 80/20. I’m trying to figure out how to reverse the percentages.

If you dissect a frog, you can see all the parts and name them and see how they fit together, and you can identify the chemical and mechanical processes that go on between them, and you can keep going all the way to the molecular level and beyond. And then you feel like you know how a frog works. But when it comes right down to it, you still don’t know how a frog works. You can describe what happens when it works, but the “how” and more importantly the “why” are still a complete mystery. Continuing to dissect smaller and smaller pieces of the frog will not help you solve it. Because the answer is not inside the frog.

The thinking and the feeling burst unbidden from a hidden hollow in a grassy green hill…

In a world where the goal seems to be to grind everything down to the least of what it is, it’s quite incredible to know that everything is always infinitely surprising.