Each day seems to be a separate life. When I awake I cross over a different flow in the river that was not there the day before. My body seems tiny compared with the size of the universe and is constantly changing. I subconsciously produce new cells every day. My mind seems to have no boundary. It takes on new thoughts all the time, and easily lets go of older ones unless I make an effort to keep them. I wonder how much bigger the universal mind is than mine? A million light-years bigger?

I call the days of my existence “my life” so that I can have an identity, but every day is different within and without. A day of lovely, puffy clouds quickly gives way to one with large bands of gray. If I watch carefully for changes I miss them. Some want absolute silence and stillness so that they may see the subtle changes in life, but the change is continuous. Some wait to jot down the next thought that comes to mind, but while writing that one another comes and the prior is missed.

The ideas that came to me in the previous night have lost their relevance and no longer seem to apply to me, as though someone else had thought of them. They seemed so important then. I don’t remember how or when they became unimportant, but now they have nearly left me. Tomorrow I will have a few new thoughts that I have never had before. If I miss writing them down, more will come. This journal twists and wanders through my existence as if it were a trail along a creek and through a tangled forest. At times the uncertainty feels disconcerting, but more often a lively adventure.

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