Asters

The asters and goldenrod are blooming. They are beautiful, but for me a poignant sign of summer's end. As I biked past them today I was thinking and remembering how back in a former life, I used to pick them. I don't do that now – there is not much point in picking flowers when you don't have a house to bring them back to. But even before I became a nomad I had reached the point of preferring to leave things where there were – to love them right here and now and not have a need to capture them. This goes hand in hand with my no longer having a need to identify or label things.

There is a great freedom and beauty in leaving things as and where they are... in shedding that need to capture and possess. It lightens and lifts the soul. It keeps one flowing smoothly in the present. It frees one from the need to try and capture time as well as things – trying to capture a moment in time and take it with you into the future. You can't anyway. Leave it where it is. Don't miss it while trying to capture it. This is the part of photography I don't like. How many times have I missed an experience because I was trying to capture it on film. No more.

This is also an aspect of Facebook I don't like. The most depressing thing about Facebook for me is not so much seeing what people are doing right now, but being able to scroll back and see what they (and myself) were doing in the past. It's the past frozen and captured and trying to still be a part of the present. It reminds me of my friend's comment about strongly preferring live music because recorded music is “canned” and dead. And it reminds me of my conversation with someone else about how text messages are not the same when you try to save them by typing them into a computer file – they are not the actual real messages, which were alive and glowing on the screen. They are dead copies. Those moments on Facebook are also canned and dead – like looking at dead bodies.

One needs to learn to feel the life that is in all things before one can realize when they are dead.

It's an insight into how energy flows in the universe. It flows, through moments and things, and then it moves on. The way it flows through time is just as important – or perhaps even more significant – as the way it flows through things.

Human life must work the same way. Our energy is concentrated here for a time and then it moves on – and probably disperses and rearranges. I strongly feel someone's presence and energy when they are in an area (such as a town) but when they move on, their energy goes and the place feels empty. This is probably why I have always felt such loss, and often a sense of abandonment, when someone I know moves away. Even the energy of a time... such as planning an event, or having a party... after it's over, that energy is gone. There is still energy there but it's not the same, it is of an entirely different sort and source. This is why you can't go back, at least not if you're expecting it to be the same. Even if you go to the same place, it is not really the same, and the energy is definitely not the same. The things may be there but there is different energy moving through them.

Moments pass. Some pass more quickly than others – though really they are all passing instantaneously. When you can let go and move and flow with the energy around you, you are free. And knowing how to synchronize your physical, mental and emotional being with that energy flow – knowing when to stay, when to move on – is key to well-being. If you wait too long to leave a pleasant spot or moment it can become depressing. Sometimes it's best to leave the lake or the mountaintop while the sun is still shining, while there is still light. But sometimes it's best to stay and watch the beautiful light fade to beautiful darkness. Knowing the difference is key to happiness. Tune in to your emotions and know whether staying or going will make you happy or sad.

Why is this my most important blogpost?
Because if everyone could synchronize with the energy flow and find supreme happiness in the present, how would that change the need to capture and possess things?
And if everyone could appreciate and leave things as they are and where they are, how would the world be different?

All this pithy insight – generated by some asters! And what did I do? - I promptly went back and photographed them! But I did it to illustrate my point, not to try to capture them. Aster means “star” so maybe it is no surprise that these wise and ancient flowers had some cosmic messages to offer.