Details. Lost & Found...

No bed of roses. That's how I described my life to an acquaintance yesterday. You know from the outside, or from a distance, everything seems peachy keen, all smiles and sunshine, but that doesn't account for all the schlepping, the bumping & scraping along, the conjuring up of dreams and the lofty, dazzling, imaginary adventures, with, of course, the inevitable crashing & burning of those same, fleeting, dreams and adventures. That's life. A series of scenes, ordeals, circumstances, fuckups, and surprising interludes. All mixed-up confusion. I mean, I'm not complaining, I'd rather be here now dealing with the deal that I have to deal with. What happens, and how we deal with what happens is the thing. Doing, being, not judging the living & the life we lead; instead, trying to live to the max. I think you can transform even the most pedestrian, mundane, day to day existence just by paying attention to the details. The details are infinite. Can you care and take care of an infinite number of details? Probably not. It is too overwhelming, but then, maybe you can let go, let the reality of living  and everything in it overwhelm you. Bring a little wonder to the party. You can get lost in the stuff of life and living. And maybe getting lost is the open window to getting found? Who knows?