Only one more week of driving four hundred miles to EMT Advanced Class before it is done. Should test out not long after. Boggie Puss spent quality time with his tounge firmly between his teeth as cats do while purring up a storm. He has not seen much of me since I have been obliged to make this round of trips to Oklahoma City, see to my duties in Hartshorne, and keep up my regular tour at Paramed INC. This schedule make one wish for a good canoe, a lab ( sorry Boggie), and time to paddle. Hum, sunsets on the water..... I put Boggie out at 5 am today and began the journey all over again. He looked at his bowl and then up with resignation in his eyes. He had brought home a feline friend to share his lunch. Boggie is a night person. So off into the world of competition and human affairs once again. I wish I had Boggies love of quiet. Silence is an art. It is the art of not saying what ought not be said. It is the art of listening to others intently. Boggie listens long, yet with out speech he communicates truth. His truth is the now moment. He never speaks or worries about yesterday or tomorrow. He has trouble understanding my rush about the world. Someone said I do not play well with others. True I long ago perhaps have forgotten the art of play. Politics to me is not a game. Nicolo Machiavelli said is but another face of war. It is full of loud silences. At last however, silence is the stillness of the mind. It is a quiet in spite of the external events. I wish I could claim Boggies quietude. Solitude: Solitude is the absence of others. It is a very different thing from Silence. Solitude one thinker said is a flame some stand it. It is training ground. It exposes what lives in side a man. It is a lathe. It cuts, and drives one inward. It is a very different thing to be a young man than it is to be an older one. A young man is all tomorrow, and expectation. He is all striving for accomplishment. This is all well. An older man is full of yesterdays, and short on tomorrows. His yesterdays fill his todays. If he dwells in the halls of solitude he thinks much on his past actions. If when he was young he was full of good deeds, accomplishments, and happy family ties then he is well as an old man. If however he lived in violence, broken family, and mistakes then these are his latter companions. It is then for a man to live a life that leads to remembrances of a youth well spent. Solitude is introspective. Silence is proactive. By keeping silence we at least reduce the wrong present around us. At least we do not have to increase the suffering in the world by our words. What does Boggie say on all of this? He asked me what is yesterday? What is tomorrow? There is only now. Boggie obviously values friendship. Who would not? It is water in the flame of solitude. Solitude drives a man before it out of the world , as Adam was driven from the garden. It drives a man were no other friend is possible but God. He stands in the flame full of his memories and at last cries out in anguish, My God, My God!. Solitude is a cross. Yet, in every death, is a moment of salvation. A solitary monk once told me his solitude was like a fog about him, close and blinding. Yet, he said then in the mist of it comes back to me my sweetness My Lord Boggie needs no such salvation, he is naturally content and quiet. It seems it is for those who rush about the world. Somewhere now in the wild oaks he is sitting contemplating the stars, deep in the mind of God.
Posted on: Fri, 31 Jan 2014 07:39:42 +0000
Recently Viewed Topics
© 2015