questing into the question

I am on a quest

nothing piratical.

the little king has gone home

and the mighty chowla is stuffed back into a corner of the bedroom.

new occupants have arrived in the shape of a rob and a glen

the glen being a Glenda

so far today we have chatted and had cups of

the men are on stairs still and there are now four solid wooden steps with more to go.

the weather has taken a sharp dive introducing a wind from the south bringing extra layers and another log on the fire.


the quest has been my companion for as long as I can remember

it is what has driven me to open my mind

to seek into shadowy places

and confront the stories of how it all is.

invariably I have come to ideas of knowing of certitude

an arrogance if you will.

I know I am not alone in this

it is how we are made to answer the question.

the right answer tick the not right wrong.


what if this is playing into the delusion / illusion

the ego self importance ?

what if we pause and look around…?


I can admit that I don’t know

that I really don’t have a clue

and then,

in that moment I am standing in the space of the question

and I notice a field of possibilities all around

in your heart and in mine.

perhaps we don’t have to work it out .

perhaps it is enough that we are seeking the way

that we are open

and that we are ready to grow to learn to love

and Be.