April 23, 2001: Lessons from a tree

I remember seeing vines leaping to and from trees—today I beg them not to strangle the unmovable standing people. It’s an agreement between two forms of creative flow—no one’s winning, we accept each other’s visions. Deep within the darkened shell of this placed called self—I see so much but feel so little. It’s almost too easy to be depressed. Silently I push forward—the more I travel, the easier it becomes to forget I was here.