Tuesday, August 27, 2013

The Flow, Driving in It



I've been reading (finally!) Pilgrim at Tinker Creek. Dillard says, and I can relate after driving for days: "At my back the sun is setting—how can I not have noticed before that the sun is setting? My mind has been a blank slab of black asphalt for hours, but that doesn't stop the sun's wild wheel."

And she says," It has always been a happy thought to me that the creek runs on all night, new every minute, whether I wish it or know it or care, as a closed book on a shelf continues to whisper to itself its own inexhaustible tale. ...I can hardly believe that this grace never flags, that the pouring from ever-renewable sources is endless, impartial, and free." Then she has a turn of thought and says, "The damned thing was flowing because it was pushed."

I am in a Flow that is carrying me to a new sort of reality, and, yes, I'm in it now, and there is more to come. I have left familiar territory and am currently driving through the Ozarks, listening to the radio filled with country music, Christian sermons on weekdays, and Sean Hannity and Rush Limbaugh. In general, I like country music. The hills and lakes are beautiful, though the temperature is baking.



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