It’s our words to one another that allow us to feel the current in life, a pressure in the fluidity of our minds, an opposition so welcome as to make us aware of what it means to be aware. And at a wonderfully subtle level we suspect, yet affirm, a meaning in this current, something preformed, with purpose, directed at and through us, a current of intent. And as we approach and absorb this subtle inclination we find ourselves moved, in whatever direction, by something which seems external, but is of our own volition. And with out these words, ‘how do it know’*?
* the thermos invention joke
