Passing precipitation ‘n’ ponderment.

If the cousin to contentment, twice removed, had a love affair with the Byron of boredom, their offspring would be akin to my current mood.

Moments of contentment flash by, like the brilliant white of lightning, before the ever familiar rumble of thunder follows. Sometimes. I have such a feeling of calm that it feels as if all my tangles are merely a cryptic crossword waiting to be unlocked and understood.

The feeling is beautiful yet mercurial, like Emma Stone at a red carpet event.

Maybe happiness isn’t knowledge and acceptance built over time, but more like the tides … pulled to and fro with the whimsy of the moon and its gravitational garter. Maybe you need only faith and the flow of the sea to reap the grande jubilee. And like global warming, over time, my core temperature will rise, slowly toasting my cockles, crusty and choleric.

Sure, the proverbial polar is done for. But what is this? Reality?

Or maybe the best way to view one’s life is through a collage of casements – one for each moment you care to call upon continuously – and they can be framed in such a way as pose your plot any way you choose. Poetic for an epoch. Moving and mosaic for a minuet. Maybe.

About the wuc

I'm a chick living in Australia, working for the man. I hate office work with a passion usually reserved for James Cameron, but somehow I ended up with a career behind a desk, stapling my forehead at random intervals.

25 Responses to “Passing precipitation ‘n’ ponderment.”

  1. Dunno where to put this so I’ve just randomly clicked on one of your posts. Here’s an award for your hilarious blog… :-)

  2. I’ve heard it described variously over the decades as “energy,” (“Maybe there is no happiness, but just energy.” -some tired, sad hippy girl in 1970) and likened to a cat’s tail (“So the cat finally realized that if he stopped chasing his tail, and didn’t think about it at all, it would follow him wherever he went!” -really shameful paraphrasing of a line in some self-help book I can’t remember the name, or the point, of) but I’ve decided the problem is that we have a word for it at all. The sea levels will eventually rise and the coastline will disappear and it will probably be really boring.

  3. Wise words. And beautiful. I need to try much harder to stay in the moment. The past is gone and the future may never come.

  4. I can’t remember a single moment when I wasn’t in the moment…. I think that’s it. Like trying to grasp air. Always there, but you can’t hold onto it.

  5. Good wonderings. And beautifully written.

    I don’t have the answers. But as I get older, it seems more and more to me that to be happy requires practice: that is, making and effort to remember the good memories, focus on the good feelings. Yeah… just my thought. ^^

    • Thanks, AG! I don’t have the answers either. I dance around them as if we’re connected, but it’s a hula of deduction (more than instruction). I suspect you may well be right, old bean.

      • Hahah, ‘old bean.’ I love it.

        Well, we’re all in this together to some extent. Good to knock brains about stuff like this once and again, eh? wot wot?

wot say you?

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