Trials and Tributaries

We seek answers. We seek meaning. We seek to find the sources of knowledges. We find the font for a moment only to leave lacking (with a never-ending thirst).

We pass false creeks that lead to nowhere, formed by runoff from snowy mountain heights or find the fluids fall into basins from which there may be no escape.

I watched a video about how rivers form, because sometimes it is necessary to refamiliarize ourselves with things we once knew but (may) have forgotten.

In my youth, I studied koans for some time, losing myself in the nuances of word, in the maelstrom of meaning and sometimes I write out a simple word or a phrase of words upon a notecard and meditate upon it, stripping it of meaning and filling it back up again. Follow the flow of thought to where the word may lead me. This likely smacks more of poetry than prose and more of prose than design, but they are the creative oroboros, forever flowing like a river from some faraway mountain down to drown into the darkness before rising once more to repeat the cycle.

Push on. Push through. Find meaning where one can. Take the mundane and make it magical. Take the magical and make it more so.

Think wisely. Write well. Follow the river as far as you can and then reflect upon the journey.

Until next time, I bid you, dear reader, adieu.

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