Danny James

Tag: air

461: Quiet days in Bondi

What of the year’s Summer? The evenings bear an Wintery air. A chill has endured for now a week and quickened us to a fresh esteem for its qualities. Delicious-to-the-eye band of Cumulus appear to sit than rather pass in quietude. Fuller, yet more dazzling and eloquent on their own, in the Suns departure.

446: Course

Allow a gentler pace to lull you back to the window, where a breeze delights the long-slept senses. Abolished instinct hums to life and Nature again kindles your enthusiasm for the healthier days ahead.

419: The passing of time, in the shade of stirring trees

How much blessing here, among this holy mountain expanse and crystal air. Surely could one remain here his days with no troubles gather, abolished of all trial and desire. O Nature, she draws me so soundly, my hopes are with the clouds these grateful days, I cannot resist their charm. I’d enjoy to watch them sail on forever and nothing more. Grant me this one request skies; a heart that is placid, free and attuned, for now and all the time that is remaining to me.

396: Mastery

Sometimes, you are lost. Strayed from yourself to some outer edge of a dark expressionless abyss where seem there the stars to contradict and misinform. Then, when once more you are by your own matter, by some small and deathless gleam guided back to strength and health, by what Galaxy presses back your bounds and goads from the depths a precious spark of mystery trace. Nature holds her breath, the Entire Universe stops to stare. The very stars, silent are marvelled by you.

393

”Sometimes I want to take in everything at once, and leave the confines of my singular existence. To not be so contained within myself. I’d like to leave my isolated mind and body and dissolve into the air. To stop interacting and fighting energy and integrate myself into energy itself. My mind would spill over and the contents would disperse themselves into the atmosphere. It wouldn’t be able to reel anymore; it would simply become enfolded in the life vibrating all over the universe. I want to be so fluid that I can experience the vitality and emotions of whoever I encounter, anywhere in the world at any point in time. I want to be a speck on a timeline running infinitely in both directions, skipping back and forth across it.”

danny james blog sky cloud thing

389: To the light

A man enters a valley such as this, and at last he is quiet. All of his grandeur immediately and rightly disperses into nothingness. A most natural and healthy state is surely quickened to the light.

Patagonia, 2013 - 2014

Patagonia, 2013 – 2014

383

Danny James blog sunrise

I could leave Earth and soar the open sky for the rest of my days. Hurl toward the brink untroubled, drifting home on a stream. I could circle the clouds for eternity, calm, free and satisfied. Pause to bathe in the cold suns magnificence, and drink the breeze of heavens sighs.
But I could not love you more.

Danny James Blog Ana

373

Once in a while expose your bones to cold weather, and take with a break-away suddenness, a walk into the Winter morning to exhilarate your torpid nerves before you perpend yourself out of the experience. Let lead for once the thrill of sensation. The speed of touch and affect over bracing. Bracing means a gap of preparations, and I am calling for an instance free of the constructions and mental entanglements we’ve spun to hold on and make it through what’s yet to arrive and may never, and so make it rather difficult to just. Let. Go.
And exist. Right where you are, as you are and not between points or making ground. Connected and attuned. We’re too oft in our heads and not enough in the pulse. We read terrain and trajectory of obstacles like puddles and misremember the lawless joy of our childhoods when kicking Autumn leaves and standing in the grass with no shoes on our feet was as natural as smiling, and we’ve forgotten too; that smiling can in fact precede the feeling it represents.

I went out so this morning near as blank and perfect as when I was born, as the last of the blue-dark sky paled and revealed to me a restlessness in the horizon toward which I went unguarded and presenting the senses bare to the rush of impressions all. You forget, how an Arctic air can quicken the spirits, and silence the mind. You forget.

It helps if there is little sun, or none to spoil the honest intimacy with its bursts of cosy cheerfulness, but above all, be absorbed, and let that be all then. Depart from your schedule with zeal into an engagement with your surroundings and open entirely to the emotional resonance with which the Universe reaches you. Receive the scene and its vastness for what it is. Embrace the rain of innervation. Permit the air to bite your lungs and tighten your flesh. Your muscles to contract and shudder, and to shake your speculating loose of taking root. A keen awareness will awaken, dilate, and throb in you, coursing your halls, weaving and electrifying, threading you back into a supernal fold, to which you belong. You are an organic being. Not simply the sum of the things that you’ve done, will do or concentrate on. It is not so much what you feel that counts, but what you think about how you feel, when you do.

314

It’s a Sunday afternoon you could be, and apparently should be doing something outside and more agreeable and instead the day is carrying on without your involvement this time because it’s been too many since you’ve been able to open your book. You’ve been busy. All week in fact and probably actually for longer than that, having forgotten the choices you used to have, and the feelings that a human gets to feel whose life is enriched and balanced by the guiding implorations of his own Nature. Can’t accustom to modes of recreation. Can’t seem to adapt without having a process to immerse in, or remember what things you do that are for your own souls recovery, and you now despise having to designate a gap to read, to write, to do anything of the things you enjoy when so much of this life is partitioned, allocated and dispersed already. Being has become exhausting and static, and you, jaded, trudging forward into grooves of chore and an obligation to just take part and be quiet, have somehow invited these dull perspectives by expending so much attempting to live in their opposition. Then, too many options was always the problem in the first place so you burned all your bridges to remove some of that noise, to be able to move forward unhindered, to somewhere or anywhere and not be stopped with indecision.
The day pales, wanes of its light and opportunity, and you let it. It is but a day towards other days the same and you are so tired, that the feeling as you drift into sleep is so exhilarating, you are charged to a more intense and fatiguing wakefulness. It depletes as much as gives, to be always wringing out what juice holds life. The pressure can be immense that you lay upon yourself, to contribute than rather detract in this world. To be always climbing, and calculating a climb, never having or making arrangements of an arrival anywhere, and withal missing the sunshine on a hill and the way birds seem to hang, suspended in the path of its golden rain, under rule of some primordial wisdom. Might well it be out there for all you know, finally the era for which you have been all this time labouring, when fortunes cycle has rounded, veering unto your position, and, for better or worse, you have arrived at the confidence that presently it simply can not matter. You don’t want or need to participate in everything so much as observe, and recover in quietude a wholeness of self, left behind. Tend there, soul and honour this gift. Sometimes, the drafts, or whatever mundane task needs doing needs for now to stay undone. Ever something will be undone, for all things can’t all at once accomplished be. Quit considering all the things considerable for once and accept the chance to sit and just listen to your beating heart and the flow of air coursing your lungs, escaping and blending with the atmosphere, with the melodies and pulsing of your entire being and a throbbing Universal aliveness that will incite tears in the eyes, sourced from the deepest wells of pure and rushing emotion dammed up since youth, and every bit a significant element of the human experience.

300: Reason

Be content. If you can still wish upon thee a rain of blessings, which you do. Enjoy what is free and unimpeded. Warm sunshine and a cool breeze. Flowers by the road. The grass beneath your feet and a white clouds lull. The might of Reason. Be satisfied.