Life takes us down its own course, a surprise at every turn, a shock at every halt. And the only common factor I note between yesterday and today is the total cluelessness with which I take life's ride in the stride. At moments, a few, when I stall and think about what is unfolding around me, the shape that life has taken, I wonder if we are after all just that. Pots of clay, rotatin fast on the wheels of the potter, letting the soothing fingers of the master run through us. Pain, there is, in some of those moves. But all to the end of moulding our lives to something we know nothing of. A tomorrow to our today that we might not live to watch. A shape to the mass now that resembles the earth.
And how much of perfection that is eventually achieved is dependant on the resistance we give to that external force. Or should I say, lack of resistance. The more we hold back, the stiffer the clay, the sloppier earthenware, I believe. An honest though, approves my head. It is this understanding that I take forward, to let the highness run his hands through me once again, to shape me for the new day. Closing thoughts are that of distant amusement, awe at the novelty in life I suddenly see and a strange inkling of excitement at what is to come.
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