Doubt seeps in subtly, but known.

Perhaps doubt is CONFUSION… Well, maybe it’s not, now that I spectate my feelings:


Which is funny to me, because it’s always been unknown since the Gift was Lost, even when filled with Hope.

There’s grayness to confusion, it is neither Hope nor Doubt. Not white or black, but GRAY. I feel it. It’s in the air, in the snowfall, in the naked trees with a sunless sky.


Currently staring at a Squirrel.

The squirrel is so swift, even in the coldest of weather. As swift as it is when the thermometer rises to 90 degrees – it conquers the frigid, as well. It does not even feel the pain. It walks through it, prancing, and uncaring to the death of life that this world delivers every year. Even with the cold winds blowing, he just stands there, and stays put, chest out and nose up, facing the Winds of Winter.

This is a good symbol for me to meditate on in this phase of CONFUSION.


In silence I conquer.

My journey is All inward.

I don’t know how to explain what that means, but I will try:

Your Whole World is Inward.

[Unexpected Zen Poem]


(end passage)



LO: you aught to read these coming 17 passages, in Order, to follow me on that journey. But, the passages that arrive after these 17 need NOT to be followed in left-brain order – each one will be it’s own entity, after 17 passages.