There are moments that come, like a bit ago while doing dishes, when I miss being 20, 21, living in a third floor walkup in Brattleboro in the mid winter freeze, fiddle music really wherever you went, surrounded by bluejeaned hiking booted wild young people with lousy cars and delicious cigarette scented breath, all unrequitable appetites for adventure and parties and dance and music and explorations and beer and cigarettes, and long nights writing and stark dark country drives and all kinds of big ideas.
And then of course I remember what we learn, the longer we're here.
Which is that times and places continually transform. That moment in time with all that happening had some delicious stuff imbued in it, and yet that place is no longer.
If you returned, just like yourself, it is morphed into a new place with its own new indelible aspects.
Which is why we are so moved to learn how to settle ourselves down, so we can let this moment, and then the next one, seep on into us, and deeply.
What we discover is that, then, any old time, we can shift our focus to that , inside of us, and have the long fulsome draught.
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