How odd, being 72 (picture is a few years old) and writing a profile for my blog. How can I give this writer a form and say this is me, when I am really just this cursor moving across a white field of the present moment. It sits here blinking at me like a pulse, my own heart beat, perhaps, waiting for me to unfold itself out of the pause of stillness between the words. I could write a long list of me, things that I’ve done, things that I like and dislike, but that is not me.
If I turn my attention inward, I can’t even find me there. There is just this cursor that runs across this field of snow, leaving a trail of black marks behind, then pauses like a rabbit, looking around, listening, then it is off again, not knowing where it is going, nor looking back to where it has been. And when it stops and the mind reads these tracks, they are not me either.
So all I can say here about me is that I exist…but I can’t find me. If you read what I write in my e-journal (I don’t like the word blog), you will only see where I have been, what I have seen and thought about, but you won’t see me. I am invisible to the mind, always one blink of the cursor ahead of thought….catch me if you can.
If you do catch me…what you will have found instead of me is YOU . We move together, you and I, running before the words and ahead of time.
Okay, just a little about me. I opened a yoga center here in my small town in Virginia, and I also have a photography studio in my Victorian house here in Blackstone, which I consider the center of the universe. But then each of us is the center of the universe, so my place is no different than yours. I am a late blooming flower of consciousness, having been in the stem and bud stage for 69 years off and on. We are all bloomers, coming into flower when our season arrives, and with our petals open and our fragrance wafting across the sidewalks, we wait for the bees to come spread our pollen across the road to the empty fields and beyond.
Posted under General Observations
This post was written by ed on August 15, 2006
Mr. Conley, it was nice chatting with you the other evening. Sorry its taken me so long to get back to you. Tell Mrs. conley I am sorry I missed her. Thanks for extended my address to Shannon and David, take care.