The Happy Gardener

 I think we are all icebergs. Only tiny portions of us are visible in all our social interactions and we live the vast majority of our lives in our minds. And that part that sticks out is such an incomplete picture. At least, that's how I feel. I have always lived more in books and stories, memories and daydreams, than in the real moments. My extended sabbatical from this blog didn't really achieve much ( you could argue that my presence here didn't achieve much either but that is neither here nor there). In fact, I deeply regret not recording some thoughts and notes here along the way. Especially because public notes are always happy or funny or silly. So now that I am finally getting back in touch with the gardener, and making my way to happy too, it's probably worth another start. And of course, what's a fresh start without fresh colors and a new theme. Green Guardians In your leaves, I mark my years In your shade, I walk my days In your breeze, I still my mind a

 Sometimes the great furnaces of life and pressures of transformation forge mighty and powerful swords. Or gems of great beauty. Sometimes all you have to show for it is a pile of ash. Or a lump of coal. *And so it goes* * This phrase shamelessly copied from the great Kurt Vonnegut, because there is no other set of words that capture that particular sentiment better. All the water under all the bridges  has been rising : hushing my words  and drowning my thoughts, making me weightless  and stateless. Who cares what happened before? I am drifting away from the shore most things don't matter anymore.