Never play anything the same way twice — Louis Armstrong (1901-1971) When we repeat our rituals over and over, they become routine. When we become conscious of our rituals, they come back to life. That is the simple source of all that is magical.

I watched a poor, withered small leaf hanging from its branch. There was no breeze blowing (that I could sense), yet it flitted as it hung, back and forth, back and forth, waiting for the moment when it would fall.  Of course, it wasn’t really waiting, but I imagined thatContinue Reading

I wonder when I am mesmerized by a flame devouring a log. Is it like hunger? Is it a need? – not my hunger or need, but the fire’s. I mean by the longing and hanging on until the last moment.  If you watch a fire and enjoy it atContinue Reading