On a recent walk, I came upon a little free library. What was once a treat to stumble upon now became the stuff of wonder. Here was lived meaning of giving and receiving, receiving and giving, absent the immediate presence of the Other.
Thank you for this lovely reflection of unseen energetic exchanges that elevate our sense of being, many exchanges that we often take for granted far too easily. I recall reading an idea that makes a similar illustration (it may have been Deepak Chopra) that is much less pleasant but really hit home with me - if I am walking down the sidewalk and catch a whiff of cigarette smoke, and notice the person walking ahead of me holding a cigarette, I may have just inhaled the atoms and energy that was, only moments ago, in their lungs. Everything is an energetic exchange, I hold it in wonder.
Thank you for this poignant illustration. The exchange of breath is something I contemplate almost daily. It is such a profoundly intimate exchange and as you offer here, so taken for granted. It occurs to me that this might be the stuff of a post. The touch of one's breath lives on in countless lives for eons. Like you, I hold it in wonder.
I am house sitting for my brother and his wife. He build a little free library at the end of the driveway during the pandemic. It is visited by those who want to read something they see there. Others have a book to add. I wonder at this exchange and what those that are participating gain from there giving and receiving. I look ofter to see what has changed when I wasn't looking.
What you share touches me, and you add more participants to these folds of giving and receiving: those who give, those who receive (the books); those who build these little libraries; and those who look to "see what has changed when I wasn't looking."
All of it, a mutually enhancing silent interchange.
You touch on a subject here I spend many hours wondering about Renée, not that that is unusual, you so often do!
I rarely buy a new book, preferring not only time spent in old book shops but well, the environment… (you know I’m sure… ) each that I touch, perhaps read a few lines from, I wonder at those that have read those lines before me, their lives, whether they had good words or otherwise in response to words within… a truly beautiful pass time it is, time losing also!
Your images are beautiful as always, the speak of the conversations I have in my head while I’m in such places with vibrancy…
Me, too, friend. And like you, I wonder about those who have opened the folds, read the words, imparted something of their essence on the pages I now hold in my hands and read. My favorite 'used books' (an inept phrase) are cookbooks and old philosophy books. Strangely, they are akin to something same for me. Is it not in the kitchen that we nurture with our hands the philosophy of our being, never needing to utter a word about it, just there in the kneading, stirring, folding, tossing, and dishing out to self and loved ones.
I'm so glad the images speak to you. Please know that means a lot to me coming from you.
Thank you for this lovely reflection of unseen energetic exchanges that elevate our sense of being, many exchanges that we often take for granted far too easily. I recall reading an idea that makes a similar illustration (it may have been Deepak Chopra) that is much less pleasant but really hit home with me - if I am walking down the sidewalk and catch a whiff of cigarette smoke, and notice the person walking ahead of me holding a cigarette, I may have just inhaled the atoms and energy that was, only moments ago, in their lungs. Everything is an energetic exchange, I hold it in wonder.
Donna,
Thank you for this poignant illustration. The exchange of breath is something I contemplate almost daily. It is such a profoundly intimate exchange and as you offer here, so taken for granted. It occurs to me that this might be the stuff of a post. The touch of one's breath lives on in countless lives for eons. Like you, I hold it in wonder.
With love,
Renée
Beautiful reflection on one being touching another being and in some way -large or small- both are touched.
Erma,
First, it's great to 'see' you here today!
Second, you bring the essence of this post home in such a few short words about touch--every encounter a touch.
With love,
Renée
I am house sitting for my brother and his wife. He build a little free library at the end of the driveway during the pandemic. It is visited by those who want to read something they see there. Others have a book to add. I wonder at this exchange and what those that are participating gain from there giving and receiving. I look ofter to see what has changed when I wasn't looking.
Patti,
What you share touches me, and you add more participants to these folds of giving and receiving: those who give, those who receive (the books); those who build these little libraries; and those who look to "see what has changed when I wasn't looking."
All of it, a mutually enhancing silent interchange.
Thank you for sharing, Patti!
With love,
Renée
You touch on a subject here I spend many hours wondering about Renée, not that that is unusual, you so often do!
I rarely buy a new book, preferring not only time spent in old book shops but well, the environment… (you know I’m sure… ) each that I touch, perhaps read a few lines from, I wonder at those that have read those lines before me, their lives, whether they had good words or otherwise in response to words within… a truly beautiful pass time it is, time losing also!
Your images are beautiful as always, the speak of the conversations I have in my head while I’m in such places with vibrancy…
Thank you always xxx
Susie,
"I rarely buy a new book. . . ."
Me, too, friend. And like you, I wonder about those who have opened the folds, read the words, imparted something of their essence on the pages I now hold in my hands and read. My favorite 'used books' (an inept phrase) are cookbooks and old philosophy books. Strangely, they are akin to something same for me. Is it not in the kitchen that we nurture with our hands the philosophy of our being, never needing to utter a word about it, just there in the kneading, stirring, folding, tossing, and dishing out to self and loved ones.
I'm so glad the images speak to you. Please know that means a lot to me coming from you.
With love,
Renée