In water, things achieve a true essence…

That’s because on the earth, the sun meets water. It creates trees, and those other trees, that are like looking at myself in a language of pure spirit.

The subconscious can be read there, and perhaps it’s not subconscious. Perhaps it was only so in the artificial atmosphere of Vienna, a century ago. Maybe it’s really conscious. Maybe the body knows stuff, and the whole idea of the conscious mind is a construction that needs perennial translation to hold it up into the air. For over two years, I’ve been talking about science here. I still am, but right now, as I slowly put my pneumonia behind me, reach for health and air, and go out for my first walks in a month, what do I see but this:

That’s the kind of earth it is. On this kind of earth, that bird is my self. The only reason that is so, is because I too am of this earth. As I’m learning now … seeing is breathing.