FootprintsintheWind.com

This is a piece of the work
These words on paper
Or in the ether
These Footprints in the Wind
Perhaps they will one day
Kick someone in their button for getting busy
Or call another to sanctuary and newness
Of ingenuity, love and collaboration
Or maybe just float in the air
Lubricating the spinning of the world

:- Doug.

How do I always have something to explore, to learn, and ever seem to be making new and major discoveries that will carry me forward?

Maybe they will. Maybe nothing is wasted and the things I discover now will inform later discoveries.

Then again, I find sometimes that I have just made a discovery that I had made months or years or even days before. It is like I have forgotten them; they do not even seem familiar the second (or more?) time around. Yet here is the evidence: the same discovery in my notes weeks or months or years before.

Spirals might help explain it: each time around I see it from a slightly different angle. Yet I seem to orbit the same neighborhood.

The continual explorations is a sign of life. This raises my hope.

Of course there is more to life and the universe than any one person can ever hold in their noggin. That is less the point than the desire to meet—one’s self, others, divinity. Here is where the expedition starts, and where it leads off.

People with goals are sad. Eventually they will get there and find less than they hoped. People with purposes are ever moving, ever surprised, ever discovering.

Goals have a purpose(!); they have a place: for the little projects, the short term, ad hoc committees and task forces: stage a ball; put out the fire; install the new appliance. Start and finish.

Goals are a cemetery. A place of death and disintegration.

We need and crave life. For this we need something larger, something without ends. We need an arrow. We need purposes. Here is life: mystery, direction, possibility.

So my continual breakings through—findings, revealings, insights, exploits, glimpses, uncoverings—these are the stuff of life, the breath and movement that show I am still birthing: birthing myself, others, life, love, divinity. Vive la discovery!

:- Doug.

Daily I ask after the mystery
As I age almost daily the mysteries are revealed
So that I begin to wonder
(Ahh! Look at that!)
‘Tis the bigger mystery
Am I mystery
Or does the mystery
Grow labyrinthine entwinings
The more its grey cloth is ripped?

:- Doug.