[image via]

Getting a little abstract today. I will try and keep it short. I was talking to my mother a few days ago when she decided she was going for a walk. I started thinking of seeing her there and not seeing her, although I would continue to see and so would she. I started thinking of how separated we are and wondering if one ever belongs to anyone, or even to one’s self.

It seems to me that we belong to everyone and at the same time to no one. Not even ourselves.  Is this what binds us then?  Is this why we are alone but not lonely? Is my inability to understand you a virtual bridge which connects to your inability to understand me, and unite us in our inability to fully know ourselves?

The people I have come to know have always passed through my life, as I pass through theirs. Not to a fixed destination. There seems to be no fixed destination in life, just passings. Passing as a continuous process of knowing one person today and another tomorrow, or meeting the different characters of an individual over time.  It is also the being of something today and being of something else tomorrow. And never actually remaining the same thing.

This is what has been passing through my thoughts of late and I figured I would spill some here.

Happy Monday!
-J