Showing posts from November, 2012

Winter Rain - A retrospective

A butterfly with a bright orange patches lands on the damp sand of a beach. Its wing is broken. The food in the cafe is good, the coffee excellent.  I’m forced to listen to the atonal snobbery of jazz. I’m on holiday.  It’s raining. I have little or no control over any of these things.  They are the way they are because of accident, design or probability; I can alter none of them.  I don’t really know where this idea came from, that things should always go to plan, that things should always be perfect, but it’s widespread and damaging.  The butterfly was beautiful, the company good, the weather passing. But each one caused an internal sigh of disappointment that the experience was less than perfect, that all the plans had come to nothing.  I also don’t know where this next idea came from – possibly my Zen karate brother – but I rather like it: Walking in the rain only becomes a problem if you believe that you are going to stay dry in the first place.  If dampne