“The words of my book nothing, the drift of it everything….”—Walt Whitman, Leaves of Grass

  Good old Walt. 

  At one point he sank to flogging his ever expanding life’s work door to door. Or perhaps I should say ‘rose,’ for how courageous, how nobly determined must a man be to believe in the song he is singing to the point of peddling it to an indifferent and even scornful multitude? 

  Thankfully I needn’t rely on going door to door to burden the world with the contents of this scarcely read blog! Nor need I rely on the Omphalos Cafe for earning my keep. Make no mistake: I’ve no illusions about what a disaster for my health and well-being that would be. 

  No, I chose a different, and as it turned out, a slower path. Call it the Benedictus Spinoza path. Spinoza lived from 1632-77, was born in Amsterdam, was excommunicated from the Jewish faith of his birth, and lived a simple life grinding optical lenses to earn his living while he sang his ‘God intoxicated’ non-denominational hymns to the sanctity of all Life. 

  That’s all to say I drove a truck to afford a roof and food on the table and the time to read and follow fellow Giants of the Human Spirit such as Whitman and Spinoza. 

  Ok, I did fall for the enticements of a woman, married, and had a son who I am very proud of, not least because he’s thriving in spite of my painful and perhaps even shameful return to my naturally studious and Giant loving semi-anti-social state. 

  The joyously bitter Truth I as well as a number of people close to me have been forced to come to grips with is that I was never cut out for conventional life as practiced today. 

  At any rate, be that as it may and bless all those who have played a part in one way or another upon the journey, including you the reader of this obscure blog…

  The Omphalos Cafe hymn continues…

  One day at a time….!