Nine Eleven-’09

It’s quiet here. Very ordinary things are happening; but the dragon is drinking deeply. With uncertainty we move and with uncertainty we speak and with uncertainty we attempt to totally function. It’s not worse than it used to be. It’s just that the future is perceived as a giant nimbus cloud, hovering. Mr. & Mrs. John Q. Public are constantly spoken to but rarely given the opportunity to come forth. Can you blame the little mouse for squealing when its postion in life is untenable. If, by some miraculous event, the cloud blows away, and doesn’t burst before that happens, we shall shall rub our eyes and wonder what sort of dark dream we have lived through. Our collective memory of tragedy grows weaker as time passes. We are protected by our mind’s ability to focus on the present. As always, it is well to count our blessings.