Saturday, January 28, 2023
Standing on a relatively high hill above Berkeley again (nightly), viewing S.F. miles away across the bay, the tiny presence of everything distantly lit up is about itself, displayed without regard for being seen—and without regard for what’s adjacent.
Things are there; buildings are there. Lines of cars (ants of light), apparently inch across the Bay Bridge, drivers and passengers oblivious to other ants in other bubbles of self possession.
Here in Berkeley, life goes on, like any town. Structures persist. Strangers pass on sidewalks as if each is passing no one. If you suddenly face emergency, someone may stop to notice, maybe help because they’re hit with risk of guilt about their general lack of care. Otherwise, the stranger doesn’t exist.
This time of month, the moon shows itself, as if there’s to be some full significance of being there.
-- gary e. davis --- 11:18 AM
Sunday, January 15, 2023
Thursday, January 12, 2023
Wednesday, January 11, 2023
We grow up, achieve a lot (at best), pay forward (please), and move on—maybe contributing to others’ lives.
Time tells. Learning never ends.
Anyway, my map is clear to me now, after some years of somewhat improvising, like hiking difficult hills to prepare for a high climb together.
I feel ready—audacious and shameless.
-- gary e. davis --- 8:22 PM