If I could change anything in this strange new exile to home, that would be it: forging a new relationship with the Tick-Tock Dude. One where we're collaborating like pianist and piano, or rider and bike. Reminds me of a lime rickey:
A bicycle racer named Raleigh
told a cheering crowd, "Thanks! But, by golly,
I couldn't have done it—
I'd never have won it—
Without my dear passenger, Wally."
I recently heard a snippet of Alan Watts on the radio talking about Now. How we're always in it. True. But at the same time, Now seems to keep getting later. Not so fast, bro. I liked that moment a moment ago. (Hey, if you liked that one, you'll love the one coming up in about ten minutes...) No, Now wouldn't know about what's coming up. Wouldn't even know about what just happened. It makes me a little nervous to think about Now at all, in fact. Is it as skinny as a filament or as vast as the Kalahari? You could say it's over as soon as it begins, or that it's never over. I think it depends on whether you're walking with it or racing it. You can kind of slow it down and get to know it.
I'm thinking of meadowing, for instance. The meandering exploration of plants, birds, vistas, close-up details, crows, snakes, and woolly bear caterpillars. You can fill a half hour with a lot of small events or non-events. Works for me; might be dead boring for someone else.
On the other hand, this blog isn't a self-help guide. I'm just trying to enjoy a nice long game of casino.
Lumbago simpatico rhyme
Palazzo Vienna begrime
and has the right meter,
it needn't make sense all the time.