The sparrow launches
from a pear branch, and a yellow
leaf sets off too
on its own, different journey.

The world carries us from the moment we are born.

When I feel our time, it seems to be an aurochs, huge and stubborn and horned, and my face is up against its rough, hairy hide, and its roaring is in my ears. There is plenty of hatred and violence in our times and still these are the conditions we have been given. Loving our lives seems easily the best attitude to the dilemma of living.

In this way we make of ourselves a raft or ferryboat for others.

There is a spiritual quality to autumn  that is interleaved with the gold and blue, the loneliness, the loss of the summer, and the piling up of years. And in this condition, which we all have, autumn is golden, the journey we are on can be golden too.

Appreciating each other is something I like best when it just happens. It is not a virtue but an impartial force. Even if I don’t like someone, secretly underneath, I might notice that I’m amused, secretly I wish them the power to live.

And then an ear worm appears— I’m going around singing Violeta Para’s Gracias a la Vida and as I begin to wonder about this I notice Louis Armstrong’s voice, saying “’how do you do,’ they’re really saying ‘I love you!’”

Thanks is yellow and golden this year.

Perhaps I’ll see you on Sunday. And thank you.

—John Tarrant and all of us at PZI

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