


I look up and the sky is infinite blue with ever changing clouds dancing across it. That ever present beauty thing again. Doesn’t it know about the anxiety in my stomach of survival and the fear of future pain? I don’t think it does. I don’t think it cares. The hum of the atoms and the reflections of the electromagnetic spectrum just keep doing their thing. So, I listen to the quiet again then back to worrying if I’m making the right moves: worrying that I didn’t make the right moves. The inner compass spins from the force field of worry. I know, I know, let it all go. Then the clouds distorting the view will pass and the course will be re-charted. The stomach worry works only when it prompts action based in the inner knowing of the best choice now. Of course that signal is very subtle indeed. (Not the stomach! The inner knowing) Peace, plenty.













