Shall I tell you a story?

Moral voices

22/10/2011

Gazing out of the window at the high birds taking the wind in the pre-dawn sky. Dipping into it, rising, gliding back, flying forward again. Can't be insects they're chasing, this early in a clear-sky chill; must the the wind itself, fresh against their wings and bodies, substance enough to fly against. The sky white-blue, pink at the horizon, brightening vapour trails, odd shapes of cloud. Up above, just the one, two torm-off bits of grey cloud chugging across on a straight course to show the strength and direction of the wind.
    [I must, should, could, probably will do something about the climbing rose, grown beyond its supports and blowing acros the kitchen window.] What do we do with the moral choices of this life? Perhaps it's not the answer we find, if we ever settle for long enough on an answer, but the looking for an answer. The phrase used is the spiritual journey, not the spiritual arrival. We are - no, not exactly wrong, but given the parts of a puzzle that tests our putting-it-right skills without ever having a final form. Life defined as a cross between a set of exercise bars and a joisaw puzzle. And if that doesn't work as an answer to the question, maybe we're engaged in "showing our working", as the exam paper says, rather than just writing down a final answer.
    Moral: don't be too sure; do seek answers to the questions that present themselves. Be inconsistent if that's how you are. The words "integrity" and "truth" want to be included in this paragraph, but today, I think "integrity" has the prior claim.
    Ah. Sunrise. Excuse me.

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There's a page for this, but maybe you'd like to see the cover here?

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Categories
(Started 4th November 2017; forgotten shortly after that.)

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