Muffy Stuff

Home again. It was a glorious week in Richmond as usual. Started with freezing rain, but by our last day together, the sky had cracked blue, we sat in the park next to a brook watching buffalo and journaling.

Something I admire about Muffy is her refusal of regret. It seeps from her. No regret, no, no, none. Horror stories are always qualified, "Obviously I think everything worked out perfectly." The here and now is what is, and from most informed angles, what is is perfect. You can either take that to mean, "at least for us middle class Americans" or an absolute, "for everyone there is perfection attainable." Regardless, if you're reading this blog on your technological device, something's going right for you in the cosmic scheme of things. Perfection is in everything.

Not to sound like a complete hippy, but it's fascinating to consider there is no past or future, only now. Not just in an inspirational speech way--yes, make the most of now--but beyond that. The past exists in our thoughts today, now. It becomes our present. Ditto future. Only this time it's not exciting to consider "the future is now." Mental toil over tomorrow and the next shadows what is here. The reliving reliving of the past makes it alive.

Pop-tarts demolished at Ted's Bulletin in DC.

I'd be the last person to say "forget your past" or "don't worry about the future." You should plan for the future, let the past inform who you have been. Who you are though, that's new. That's very new.