"The past only comes back when the present runs so smoothly that it is like the sliding surface of a deep river. Then one sees through the surface to the depths. In those moments I find one of my greatest satisfactions, not that I am thinking of the past; but that it is then that I am living most fully in the present. For the present when backed by the past is a thousand times deeper than the present when it presses so close that you can feel nothing else, when the film on the camera reaches only the eye. But to feel the present sliding over the depths of the past, peace is necessary. The present must be smooth, habitual. For this reason — that it destroys the fullness of life — any break causes me extreme distress; it breaks; it shallows; it turns the depth into hard thin splinters… I write this partly in order to recover my sense of the present by getting the past to shadow this broken surface. Let me then, like a child advancing with bare feet into a cold river, descend again into the stream." - Virginia Woolf
It's funny how the manifestation of things generally find themselves to me in the written form. Books fall right into place like a believer calling for help to their god. I am in a place that is trying to understand and reconcile what time is, what this life is about, and what the purpose of doing anything is. And then how to transform that into feeling fulfilled with the nothing.
I sit in this corner and feel like I am more than this physical form. I am exploding with this light that needs to extend farther than this coffee shop - but has no name , or no direction , and then understanding that that untaimed nature is who I am and that is perfect.
Wednesday I will be 31.