This week’s word is from a book called American short stories.  We picked this book and read it to each other while having a glass of red wine, listening to a nice fella play some music on the piano.


Consciousness.  To be awake and to be alive.  To be near the end of life and to find a taste of it so you can continue on.  Something you can lose while letting all of your inner secrets flow fluidly from your soul.  Something you are never truly aware of until it is lost or completely let go. A state of mind and a state of being.  A word with so much power, but nothing you can physically be seeing. Can you see it? Can you feel it? You can be it, but never steal it.  Where does it lie and where does it stay?

Your consciousness is your own; your unique sound, your special tone.  Losing sight is not the end, it is never borrowed and appears who knows when. Consciousness and inspiration, oh what a delightful combination. Consciously inspired or inspiredly unconscious? I am not very sure, and I am never all that cautious.  I find it when I need it, it saves me and I keep it. Do not seek it, do not search it. Let it come and it will be worth it. It may stay, it may wander, for many evenings you will ponder. Your consciousness may stray and your consciousness may drift.  May it never make you pay, and always come and go ever so swift.]If you find it, what will you say?

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