01 November 2005

If you had just a minute to breathe

Yesterday, Halloween morning began with a disembodied feeling as my faithful car's battery was dead and then I had to make the trip to work sans radio because I couldn't find the code to unlock it. I was ready, so ready for my music with my morning workout. Luckily the iPod was charged and ready to go, loaded with my newly-digitized Traffic, Low Spark of High Heeled Boys vinyl. I remembered this tune from 1971:

"If you had just a minute to breathe
And they granted you one final wish
Would you ask for something like another chance"

No. (Long pause for thoughts.) No I wouldn't.

And the lyrics continue:

"If I gave you everything that I owned
And asked for nothing in return
Would you do the same for me as I would for you
Or take me for a ride
And strip me of everything, including my pride
But spirit is something that no one destroys"

I have been lucky in that the people I have trusted the most have given me the same in return. For people not so fortunate, at least "spirit is something that no one destroys."

I have been thinking about the meanings of spirit for months now, and this is one reason I wanted to keep a blog. Spirit, spiritual, soul. How can I define each of these?

One way that I think of spirit is the thoughts in my own mind. A constant factor in my life this year is that I listen to courses from the Teaching Company on my drive to work, and ideas from these courses will float in and out of my blog. In the Great Books course, our teacher discussed several books with the theme that no matter what is done to a person, they still are free in their own mind.

Traffic: Rock and roll philosophers.

I saw a blazing tree on the way back from the rec center this morning and wished that I had my camera. Spent a normal day at work. Leaving work, my mind drifted to the bowl of Halloween candy that I had left uncovered in my office. Would the bugs get to it overnight? Would those bugs worry that they were eating sugar, when they should have been eating something healthy? Should bugs worry about things like that, or do they get to eat whatever they want?

If I had just a minute to breathe. . . . I'd go for the candy.

The candy.

And when I got home, I grabbed my camera for the sunset.

The sunset.


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