Washing machine blues # dilemmas of empathy

Waiting for the washing machine to finish washing, contemplating events of the day. My friend who got denied his application for benefits that I was hoping would pull him out of where he's been for decades. Disappointment, pain, and some practice in empathy balancing: me getting worried makes it worse for him. Thinking about empathy, …

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Half an update on the upper triangle of Maslow’s pyramid

Difficult to find a path back into writing after periods of action. Real-life action. Difficult to carry on with a narrative when the storyline is prone to sudden jerky jumps. Nevertheless trying to carry on with the commitment to writing, remembering over and over again how helpful it's been to me in the last months. …

Part of you

I so much like part of you. That part. I can almost fall in love with it, it's exceptional, it's fantastic, and unique, I haven't been able to find anything equal over the years. I don't think there can be another person like you. If that part is so awesome, the rest must be fantastic …

Axis

There is no point in rushing oblivion Rushing forgetfulness. The imprint stays stuck in your heart for a while For a reason. An ember, a dried-up stick, half burnt. What's it still doing there, immobile. Seemingly useless. . I think sometimes If it's been thrown in under the right star sign It becomes a crystallisation …

Why does the tree

Why does the tree Bear so much fruit? Every year? . Mum reads books and says Out of the two million seeds of a beech One becomes a tree. . If the tree was goal-driven, it would grow depressed and give up after the first million. Is there joy in bringing fruit? By that, in …

Travel with the small or the big backpack?

Personal reflections on decades of pseudo-nomadism, packing, love, meaning, painting, and generally pretending to have an adventurous and deep life.

Torn between the company of humans, of nature, of self. Some perhaps autistic perspectives.

I saw clouds of sadness of slowness I was welcoming solitude with a safety net with an "other shore". . I'm not sure why it's so difficult: either I am with you, and then I feel the compulsion to know in each split second what exactly you expect from me, what to say, what to …

snowflakes in august, springs of the clockwork

You are beautiful. there's some beauty, fragile like snow in between gestures and silence. your presence absorbs screams and grating sounds like sand absorbs raindrops. you lead me back to zero. . you lead me back to your zero. i hook my psi radar to it and i am calm or happy for a few …

Normalising heartbreak, handling the water.

Shattering shapes of a rigid shell In the end it is nothing more than that To make room for the flow Which is moister, closer to the ground. More humble, unassuming, which hugs the Earth. Knowing how to break fluently And dispose of the scaffolding of thought and plan Quickly To partake in the quicksilver …