Remembering Home

The picture was taken in South Dakota, near Wall Lake, fall 2006. There were storms and tornadoes that day.

Today is a thick day, not the state of my head, the air. It's thick like hot chocolate, with little chunks of marshmallow that aren't mixed in well. Mmm, I love hot chocolate.

Morning doves are mourning. I am sitting on the front step in Corsica, SD, and it's mid evening. The heat and humidity are up, the sun is behind the house, and it feels like hot chocolate. I breathe it in, reveling, just breathing, in, full, and out. I let my eyes zone out, my mind follows the sound inside me, I just listen. I Am. That's it. I know it.

Judgment (good or bad) about these experiences make them impossible to experience again, other than through the mind. Judgment about anything will do that. Calling my memory of the doves good or bad inhibits me from experiencing simple things well.

Judge not, lest ye be judged. It's from the Bible, somewhere. I think it means that when I put labels on people, places, things or experiences it separates me from real life, and puts that judgment back on me. When I label something else, the label returns to me. It is about me. The label is like having a blanket wrapped around me in the shower. It separates me from the water I went there to use. The shower is like life. We came here to experience it, but we have something that is keeping us from experiencing it. The blanket, aka judgment. I write this for myself, but if you find it useful, so be it.