Sometimes Spring comes slowly, sometimes all at once. Am struggling to understand the notion of rest. What it might mean. Why I am no good at it:

– Restlessness.

– Anxiety.

– A need to be busy.

– Lack of a strong spiritual center.

This morning, went to meditate at a Quaker Meeting House. Grounding. Put the truck away. Put the camera away. Taking the dogs up to the top of the hill to read yet another biography of Gabriel Garcia Marquez and to finish Michael Lewis’s horrifying book on subprime mortgage crash and the economic rape of so many people that followed. It’s a wonderful book. It will make you angry, and it should.