A Poet's Journal: February 26th, 2015
How rare to have body and mind on the same page! It is not easy to do the things we want when we want to; the auspicious moment always seems to grow from inability and our inability from a desire for something more. Imagination drags us through this lonely field, giving us our tasks, our worries, making the distance around us insufferable. And so whenever I have something to do, it is very difficult not to get caught up in the imagination of doing it before it is actually done, working through it a hundred times. I am not speaking of preparation or details here, but the simple idea of a future to come, and what that future might bring, and how we might handle that--this is the imagination, this is the gateless gate, firmly shut and too defiantly high to look over; this is the gate that never was nor ever has been a gate. Yet it is richly adorned and so much a part of our inability that it seems better to look at and keep closed rather than pass right through untouched.