It can happen. After being busy this morning and quietly finishing my reading this afternoon a few important phone contacts shifted my starting point for writing. In fact I feel too tired to open myself up for lightfooted creativity. A few hunches, a funny thought, or an embarrassing image, one or two oft hem would suffice to bring my soul into motion. Rising above this sleepy mood in my back, my eyes halfclosed.
But I took the leap into something more appealing: lets see how far we get in a quarteer of an hour. It must make sense. You can not jus tutter some boring or flimsey Lines. It has to do with your experiences today. Was there a remarkable core of meaning or learning, or a flash in sight you were lucky to receive?
Indeed there was. It had to do with the existential question; what is the object of your desire in all these quests,endeavours you spend your lifetime on? Was it Money, Sex, or Power? No, and i fit had more to do with your desire for wisdom, did you get neare to it? Where were you aiming at? In all these readings, following invisible traces, hints, inner feeling of  approaching it, What it?
I discovered that what I have been searching in the darkness of invisibility, has to do with a definite inner feeling of being in touch with sacred truth. Of participating in the deep stream of life, My thirsty lips feeling refreshed by the sudden welling up of the ultimate and sacred source of rhythm, energy of life. And knowing that somewhere below this miraculous manifestation a deep interconnecting structure of a matrix, a founding ground can be found.
And finally to discover that all this corresponds with an inner treasure, A point of unity of being in which all my endeavours join, fitting together organically, making me feel more that healthy, a bit tired perhaps, but fundamentally peacefull, enlightened in Our Heart, lightfooted, liberated from old burdens. Not so bad, this idea to write this down, as closing word. To be carried through a shadowy valley of dreams. Until I open my eyes again. Good night.

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