Frustrated.

I’ve made it clear in these pages often enough that it’s the little things and the big things which most attract my attention. I’m attracted to the flutter of small wings as a bird takes flight, the sight of a small beetle scurrying across a wide road, being moved by a young girl giving her raincoat to her little dog. I’m also attracted to the mystery of time – the fact that the past has no ending and the future no beginning because there is only a seamless flow from the apparent nature of one to the apparent nature of the other. The fact that moments can’t exist fascinates me and leads me constantly to muse on seemingly unanswerable questions.

The stuff in between – the matters of great import I read in the news – often depresses and irritates me, but I keep trying to convince myself that none of it really matters. Unfortunately, the fact that I’m currently living in a physical body means that they do matter, or at least appear to. That’s why I find the state of the human condition too flawed and underdeveloped to really want to be a part of it.

I wish to rise above this state of being, but I don’t know how. Lots of people try to tell me how to do it, but none of them convince me. Other self-styled sages try to tell me that there is nothing to rise beyond, but they don’t convince me either. I have a strong inner sense that the answer needs to come from inside, but should I trust a strong inner sense?

And so I keep hanging on, trying both to care and not to care whether Russia invades Ukraine and how well the England women’s cricket team are faring down in Canberra. And I suppose it’s why I keep on writing stuff like this to a blog which very few people read. Is it of any help to me? I really haven’t a clue.

Today would have been my mother’s birthday if she’d still been alive.