Wednesday, November 9, 2016

Scribblings From Inside The Sane Asylum...

Just A Thought This Morning...A little cooler perhaps, but the mornings of our lives always yields their little surprises. The sunlight breaking over the ocean casting her spell of shadows. Storms forming on the eastern horizon. The sound of high tide as the waves white with foam caress the sand. The sound of a sea bird lost in migration, or maybe just Jonathan Sea Gull spreading his greetings of another day.
"Life is more than just looking for fish heads."
Jonathan Livingston Sea Gull

So many things we can distinguish in our thoughts...
an idea or opinion produced by thinking
or occurring suddenly in the mind.

An idea, notion, impression,
a theory, and many more.
Deliberate, perhaps.
Or just musing, ruminating, or even brooding.
All the thoughts that make it so.
Try reflection, rumination and mediation,
It all leads to contemplation does it not?
Pondering and deliberation.
Introspection? I reverie that reflection.
Thinking...
Is it not language that makes all thinking so?


And who sits at your pilots wheel?
Some say fate steers us through,
But most of the time it's just you.
With your cargo of language
and yes your fate,
Press on...the morning still breaks.

For some odd reason, out of nowhere, I recite the poem Invitcus in my head, as I watch eight pelicans disappear toward the southern shore. Thank you William Earnest Henley. Great combination of words that made thoughts which one never forgets. First damn poem I every learned. Ms. Grumbly, as I called her. My eighth grade English teacher, or was it Language teacher?  So much wisdom in that lady.  I remember well her thoughts on how I was steering my ship. " Young man", she spoke, "If you don't learn how to spell and write, you will amount to No Thing." How smart she was...nope, not a good speller or skilled on the rules of verse...and now I amount to No Thing...but I lived long enough to use this damn Spell Check....

...just language, sparked in my brain, making a sea of thoughts in my mind, packed and stored away for the journey.


It matters not how strait the gate,
    How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate:
    I am the captain of my soul.

And so it goes...Doc

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