The slow ride home

It’s all about to get a bit philosophical I’m afraid! 

I’ve had a bit of a case of the mondays today.  A fretful unsettledness that comes from reading too much (?!) of the news from around the world, worrying and feeling like there is simply too much to do to make any positive impact. 

Sometimes I stub my toes up against some heavy duty existential angst,  the point(lessness) of it all,  my own apparent impotence in the face of negativity, the sheer scale of the ocean of pain out there.   

So this evening I took the slow bus home.  And it really is slow.  It goes out into the suburbs,  back round near my work place,  out through another suburb via 8 sides of a triangle and then onto my road.  But in the mean time,  it also goes through a valley that traps the sunset,  bends and flattens rays across fields of cows,  wriggles of rivers and troops of grazing kangaroos.  In the background a plane takes off,  going somewhere,  nowhere, writing vapour across the sky which seems wider here.  Big purpley-blue hills rise up against this expanse and weirdly enough it helps me settle.  Watching a slow sunset as the bus stops and starts in traffic or along tree lined avenues, as people get on and off, going places,  somewhere, nowhere, something eases.  

Today might have been a fractious, unproductive feeling day but it’ll pass and tomorrow night be better.  That knowledge and a yoga class tonight and I should be back on the ball tomorrow. 


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