What makes sense?

What makes sense?

Does anyone know. Last night I slept badly. I dreamt that I was running in France, and getting more lost by the minute. But sleep was continually broken by these kind of dreams, which became so agitating that I had to wake out of it. I went shopping the day before to find an elusive item and was running and had no success. Why did my dream copy my day?

Why can peace come and go regardless of circumstances. Why is there always drama and trauma. In families where you don’t expect it to happen. To people whose lives provide  good education for their young, and yet trouble brews. Why? Anyone got an answer.

Today I was with a man who has to make a difficult decision about aged care and even though money isn’t really a concern, and they are very bright people who have planned assiduously  for the later years, yet it’s all going wrong.

It seems that the play of melodrama has no end. You can meditate until your bum  becomes numb. You can read every spiritual message ever written, go into seclusion, and yet peace, sweet peace seems to be this vague butterfly thing that lands on your shoulder or not. Why is this?

Why is the speed of disruption and interruption so profound. Why, why, why?

History shows that the speed of life has always been busy. Doesn’t matter if you lived in a African tribe, Chinese Village, or New York, peace always seems to be that rare elusive thing. Easier to find the missing link between humans and apes. Why? [ he asks without expecting an answer.]

Anyway to find peace in the middle of a storm is perhaps all we truly have.

Maybe that’s why drugs and alcohol are so popular. Temporary relief from the drama, that doesn’t change. I leave it here for now, struggling myself with a peace that seems to be hauntingly close, and yet devastatingly far away.

Peace be with you, and good luck with that.

Paul