But then, it’s precisely that which differentiates us from every other life form on planet Earth. And pretty much only that, I might add. The ability to hold a thought, to wrap it and store it away in the synoptic warehouse of our brain. Other species communicate through grunts, lows and squeals, whistles chirps and song, growls and snarls and whimpers and such, but only we hold on to it, the sound, and store it away to be recalled and used at a later date. Only we can scratch an image in sand, wood or stone and understand that the image stands for the sound we have stored away. For a hundred thousand years—maybe one fifty… we’ve had this uncanny, almost miraculous ability, and it’s raised us to the very pinnacle of the animal and plant kingdom.

But see what I’ve just done. The very idea of ‘pinnacle’ removes us from the general flow of Life as lived in the animal and plant kingdom.

The ‘idea’, the ‘Word’ as hinderance, as alienator from Life: who would have thought? Someone somewhere passed down a sacred notion of the ‘Word’; could they see Life as it truly was and is, or were they imprisoned in Word’s spell too?

Life flows on from generation to generation. Observe the animal and plant kingdoms, that is all there is…

We too flow from generation to generation, in spite of the Word which might lead us astray…

In spite of the ideas we hold…

Often enough it just happens…

Life’s Flow….