I’ve done a lot of things today and had chance encounters
with several people I haven’t seen since before lockdown. Tonight I spoke to
Mel on Skype for nearly two hours, and then wrote a difficult email to my
daughter. I’ve been almost constantly occupied and communicating with people
the whole day – which is most unusual for me – and yet my mind is empty of
anything to write to the blog. For all its activity, the day has seemed
curiously flat as though the flow of chi has been sluggish.
Is that how life works, I wonder? Is that the river of energy on which we drift through life, with its eddies and currents and white water stretches and occasional cataracts? Is that the sea into which we eventually flow before rising to new clouds before starting the journey all over again? And is it all in the mind but still real? And do we ever get to find out?
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