by Bela Johnson | Nov 7, 2012 | freedom, happiness, inspiration, lifestyle, philosophy, Uncategorized
It’s not impermanence per se, or even knowing we’re going to die, that is the cause of our suffering. Rather, it’s our resistance to the fundamental uncertainty of our situation. Our discomfort arises from all of our efforts to put ground under our feet, to realize...
by Bela Johnson | Oct 10, 2012 | happiness, inspiration, lifestyle, nature, philosophy, Uncategorized
Ever since I’ve had a choice, I’ve lived in the wild. My body, tethered to a mind that wanders, needs constant affirmation of its place in the earthly scheme of things. Without this physical contact, my spirit years too much for that nameless home in the sea of pure...
by Bela Johnson | Oct 2, 2012 | art, creativity, happiness, inspiration, philosophy, Uncategorized
I hardly know life at this phase of the game, but I strive to remain open as it unfolds. This becomes easier when I’m not fighting what is and expecting it to morph into something more familiar with a zippier buzz to the palate. A good friend and I were reflecting...
by Bela Johnson | Sep 10, 2012 | happiness, healing, inspiration, lifestyle, philosophy, Uncategorized
Years ago I read this book and wrote an article for a statewide paper about and around it. The following is a reworked and shortened version, which I thought to share with you while on a month’s vacation which has taken me away from a regular writing schedule. I...
by Bela Johnson | Aug 3, 2012 | animals, happiness, nature, personal, Uncategorized
Fog kissed the perimeter of the inlet, awash in the salmon palette of dawn. Scratched across its surface stretched a long expanse of lumber, rough-hewn and weathered smooth by time. Blinking in the light, she placed bare lily feet upon its surface; padded silently to...
by Bela Johnson | Jul 19, 2012 | happiness, inspiration, personal, Uncategorized, writing
How many books can be stacked atop a bedside table? Right now there are no less than eight; the ninth is in my hand. Is it variety I crave? Or simply that I cannot shelve what remains unread – a steady stream of volumes I’ve yet to fully digest...
