It’s interesting to me that the word ‘cogitate’, which basically means ‘to think deeply’, derives from the Latin word ‘agitare’, meaning ‘to shake’. It does make sense, though, because thinking deeply certainly involves a shaking-up of thoughts and perspectives. Cogitating is like having the peaceful sea of our usual mind whipped a little so new ideas start rising and rolling along like new swells and waves. It’s a way of purposely disturbing our usual way of thinking so openness and innovation can start shining again. And yet, it’s not really something that I do by myself. Somehow, this vast and persuasive universe, of which I am a significant part, is constantly rousing up fresh thoughts for me to think, and all I have to do is sit silently and let the sea of my mind be tenderly shaken. I need to allow my mind to be stirred up if I want new ideas to start dancing. The universe is a friend, in this way, by flustering and ruffling my thoughts, and thus revealing new paths to take in the wonderful wilderness of life. In a very real way, our wise universe is always cogitating, always unsettling our thoughts so new and sometimes spectacular kinds of waves and currents can unfold in the boundless ocean of our minds.
We took separate walks this morning – Delycia down River Road from the Peace Sanctuary into Mystic and back, and me up along the trails at the Sanctuary. I always love walking in these peaceful and serene woods beside the usually untroubled Mystic River. It’s like coming home to an always safe shelter.
I would love to feel lots of energy today, and it should be easy to do, since I belong to a universe made of endless energy. Actually, I can’t avoid being perked up today, all day, since I am part of an endlessly vast universe made of endlessly vast vitality. I probably won’t always feel this inner vitality, but it will definitely always be there – my 37 trillion cells working freely and fluidly, my breath coming and going with reliable buoyancy, thoughts constantly zipping around inside me. I may sometimes feel fatigued today, but the universe that I am an important and inseparable part of will never be wearied of working its little and large miracles. When I feel sapped and drained, perhaps I should just watch, for a while, the tree limbs in our yard endlessly flowing and shifting with the steady – though invisible – movements of the air, or maybe I should simply pause for a few moments and feel the reliable rise and fall of my belly as my body does its dependable breathing with quiet exuberance. There will be forcefulness in every moment today, even in simply the fact that each moment will be made fresh and brand-new before my eyes. Today’s dynamism will be unlike any other day’s, always crisp in its newness. I just need to stay alert to the pizzazz and punch that will be always happening inside and all around me.
And two scenes from our morning walk in the seaside village of Noank …
The full moon this morning, slowly descending beyond the trees west of our house, as Delycia and I did our early meditation …
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MOONS AND PARAGRAPHS (written on October 18, 2013)
An almost full moon is shining through the trees as I type this – as I take my time to try to make a whole, full, and finished paragraph – and its light looks like it might be good luck for my writing. It’s a complete moon, and I want to make a complete piece of writing. I want to place words in a suitable order so there’s an unbroken series of ideas doing their work side by side, in partnership, as one. The moon in this pre-dawn darkness makes a circle of light, and perhaps my paragraph can produce a circle of thoughts – a circle that might, in its own way, shine with the fullness and simplicity of the moon. I think of other things that are full – this earth full of force and promise, the sea full of hopeful life – and I hope my small series of phrases and sentences may be full of its own kind of influential life. Even if I am the only person who will read my paragraph, perhaps it will shine as I say the words silently, shine like something in good shape and strong, the unbroken and undamaged thoughts of one man on a very early moonlit morning.
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After breakfast today, we took a walk around the seaside village of Noank (CT), up and down some hills overlooking Fisher’s Island Sound. As always, it was inspiring to be close to the sea, and to see sky and clouds and saltwater and shoreline quietly glowing together in their early morning colors.
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And here’s Delycia’s latest puzzle, finished this morning …
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… and here are our magnetic poems on the frig today …