After two days of steady rain,

the sun came out. I noticed among the people a feeling of joy, renewal. The cook at the Garlic Press usually has a dour face, but today she was snapping her fingers--to the music. I turned around and couldn't believe it was the same person.

Yes, the mundane is everything . . .

I chased after a rabbit just to see how far I could run . . . it wasn't very far.

There is this pull toward a greater livelihood. I am pulled by aspirations and dreams despite the absurdity of these dreams.

I am still alone today, but it's not so lonely.

Ignorance is easy--like sleepwalking. But then, you also have to walk to get out of it, to wake up. Life is flat and then suddenly it's remarkably contoured, twisted, curvy, long . . .

On the trail, walking--for hours. My thoughts were like loose pockets, holding nothing. I could hear the trees creaking above the bridge . . .

Funny how I make a choice and then my life begins to unfold in a different way. It's a pattern made up of moments.

Instead of pining for a different life--a miserable condition of wanting something that never comes--I started to believe one choice could alter this life . . .

The hours are empty. They were always empty. Before I filled them with hatred, self-loathing. Now, for some strange reason, friends are calling me.

Yes, you're right. I feel better.

I want to remember this.

But don't we lose wisdom? I've tumbled into old ways like an alcoholic stepping into familiar taverns.

The wisdom is deeply personal. It relates to a specific circumstance.

After all, I'm just shining like the sun today. Nobody with nothing inside. And these words are all temporary. They mark my place in one instant.

After two days of steady rain,