Stuff for the Dark

January 22, 2025

Good morning, that wonderful way.

Starlight, star bright first star I see this morning.

Early.

Even for me.

Most of my life is an exercise in getting to a page to put down words to make sentences.

Once you find something, someone, you love, the day becomes a process of getting to them.

Once there the day is only a matter of enjoying the moments made possible by the effort.

Early mornings and late nights always went best for me. People can be so disruptive with their expectations.

The world was loud, soft, sick or well-enough.

It's easier now. The days are more temperate being tempered by the insistence they are.

A quiet room, a place to shine, to write, to dream. My goal for most of my life was to get there.

Every checklist of a day's events included one word: Write.

When I reached remission, I made it the only word on the list and built everything around it.

Life is too precious; do what you love.

Don't make time to do what you love; do what you love.

Make every other action in your day support doing what you love.

That's how to have a good life.

That simple.

"C'mon, Wynn. Everyone can't just do what they love. That would be chaotic," you say.

No. That would be Paradise.

There's more to what we love than what we want. There's a richness there, a dream fulfilled.

So much we have is unnecessary. So much we have we think we need is, too.

Our movement towards minimalism is a sign deep down we know this. We keep what brings us joy, what serves our dream, and let the rest go.

They're thoughts to help myself.

I hope they help you, too.

Closer to sunrise...

An Abe-rolls-his-eyes-at-me-it's-so-early morning.

How are you?

Well, I hope.

The quiet before sunrise is best.

Potential. A reliable punctual friend, the Sun.

There's only so much we can write about the Dark.

We call him Mr. Lights Out, but he's the default state.

Sunshine is extra. Sunshine is stuff for the Dark.

Hippies and their 'We're all stardust' business are right.

Perhaps one day our physical science will come to its empirical senses and include light and color in every equation.

Light, whatever that is, is the only building block of matter.

A blackhole filled with starlight, that's the Universe.

Gravity, the push from the fire.

The Sun's not getting closer; we're fading.

Dreams make a place for the light to go.

Enough of that on another day.

I do hope you're well. Take care (you little dance of starlight, you) rocket scientist or hippie, and have your better day.