Danny James

193

Perhaps concealed, not absent.

Sydney, 2014

Sydney, 2014

192

Not for a seat in the clouds after, which there is not, but because you love. Which you do.

191

The reason is justice.

190

If you had no fear preventing, who would you be now? Though it is not possible to annul those misgivings in thy breast, you must regardless, entertain at once the thought that it is not too late to live an honourable life. That you may approach your final repose, ready and content, – that throughout your lifetime being afraid did not once deter you from choosing the rightful course however difficult, or from making reparation – having summoned what strength was in you to act, not for your own, but for the common welfare, and enriching thus the lives of any who crossed your tenure in need, than rather shrink at your vulnerabilities. Far better to have done what you could, for all with what was your own portion, than loathe to have lived but a hoarder, a slayer and thief among the builders of great cities.

189

It has become a requirement to be daily bathed in the good tidings of Auroral light, where each aurifying encounter iterates the simple imperatives that extend a more genial and satisfying influence on all occasions of the day.

Bondi, 2013

Bondi, 2013

188: Good morning, Sunshine

I flatter myself that she combs the Earth each night by candlelight until I am found

Or rising first reserves her glow until I’m slipped of my slumber sound.

But she feigns a gladdened expression looking lastly where I have always waited

I am the one dismantled, my overlooked hopes with thee over the hills faded.

Bondi, 2013

Bondi, 2013

187

I much enjoy my daily visits with the rising Sun, which greets me from over the yonder each morn with an everlasting cheerful tenderness. Then a gladness washes over my heart, much in the way that sleep overwhelms the consciousness: delicately, and then utterly.

Bondi, 2013

Bondi, 2013

186

Take not too much upon yourself to bear; leave light as arrived, for the interim soon is done.

185

It is regular of unordinary genius to direct ones talents to sufferings reduce, at forfeiture of an ordinary, untroubled life.

184: Sally in the Summer

At the time that we met, Sally was engaged to be wed and I was content in my own affairs. Perhaps it was in my busyness that I had not acquired a ready authority for rebuttal against sudden occasions of intimacy, and so was quite unprepared to find her presence so pleasantly misleading and necessary, further abrading my habitual disinterest of company with our every interaction. A faint esurience begun to beat in the blood, escalating a percussive verve into a tremorous diastole of an exposed unignorable space. The work to which my poise I long so diligently committed soon lost much of its relevance and appeal. A fog of some unknowable insight fell, at which I flinched initially, but soon found myself wading through in earnest, hung on the idea of precisely what I did not know, as when children act on instinctual whim and charge on wonderings that age and experience in propriety deny. And through the bedlam of grown-up static it steals from time to time, hitched upon a desperate sigh of fading impulse. – As when you find yourself more frequently not rushing from your car but instead, sitting and staring undecided in longer and longer bouts of absentminded relief, that you can finally slump without a witness to your inauthenticity. But the breach of some striking sense impression soon compels sobriety again, – such as windscreen frost glistening in the rays of a rising sun. Or the gradual intrigue of your breath visible in the Autumn morning, and you return at once enkindled again, to that which you must with all your present best.

Innocent departure kisses drew longer, and made from the cheek to the corners of our lips, assuming an unspoken daring and inappropriate delightfulness from which neither would withdraw, nor with talk delay hurrying to. I anticipated the forbidden collisions, prior outlining the usual bodily contact points, and leapt in hot to press our hips and the edges of lip flesh revelling the glimpse of plaguing joy in her eyes seconds before.
My hand found always its home in the svelte curvature of her lower back and each time as I pulled closer Sally would bounce to her toes so as to fit perfectly into the invitation. We held on, swaying in the silent affirmation, lingering the thoughts and savouring the rush and warmth of throbbing desirous blood.

tocarrythefire

Stoicism, and the pursuit of virtue.

Wandering In Wanaka

Wanaka: a visitor's perspective

the new stoic

adventures in Stoicism through biography, metaphor, and comment

Meditations in Solitude

Musings from Kansas

Stoicism Reborn

My life's purpose is not to be a stoic. It is to have a wonderful, content and happy life. I am a stoic because it is by far the best way I have discovered to achieve that. It is a great, wonderful, sublime tool. We must always remember that Stoicism is not a target life. It is a method to achieve a target life.

Practical Stoicism

Using the wisdom of the ancient world in the modern one

Sunshine upon my inner garden

Reflections on the joy of living in a world we do not fully understand

Shit My Brain Tells Me

So you too, can hear my incessant inner ramblings

Stoic Lawyer

Philosophy and advocacy in search of the Good

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