I grew up in a very religious society which claimed to make sense out of non sense usually with an eye toward faith and not critical thinking. From the start, I chaffed at the thought of not having a definitive answer.
My mother always had a little devotional booklet called "The Daily Bread" which one could read a short story daily with a religious connection to a positive approach to the day. I came to understand that it was her way of meditating and she was able to make sense of non sense usually while drinking a cup of coffee on the front porch or in winter in a nook by the piano in the dining room.
My father has been dead many years. My mother is now 84 years young and a twice cancer survivor and a survivor of abuse......her little booklet served her well.
These days, I most often go to the gym at 6:30 am and when I return I sit on the front porch or by my guitar in the sunroom and have a cup of coffee. I read. I contemplate. I meditate.
This morning, I had two incongruous thoughts. I remembered catching fireflies as a child in Mason jars with lids that had holes poked in them. Their light seemed inexplicable and fascinating. I often kept the jar until morning and just as inexplicable and fascinating....their light was gone.
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