Chewing on metaphors!

SYDNEY HARBOUR BRIDGE

There is something about metaphors that make me go into a metamorphosis state of a mind filled with a kaleidoscope of words rather than colours. Almost like a jigsaw puzzle that is done upside down and one only sees the true and real picture when the puzzle is turned the right way round and then displays all its glory and the meaning becomes suddenly clear.
How lovely too it is to see picture conundrums where one has to look and think hard before the riddle of circles and lines becomes clear. To improve the mind, just like any muscle in the body, one must exercise it to the extreme to get the Goliath type image without the Achilles heel of weakness. How easy it is to fall off the band wagon of braininess and into the quagmire pit of the ignorant in their bliss.
To be illiterate must be similar to being colour blind in the world of words and although often when one is unable to read or write they do have a great understanding of words and their meanings they still might have an immense feeling of lack when they open a book and are unable to decipher the beauty of what is written within.
I thank my luck stars for gracing me with an education and the ability to think and react in my own way about what goes on, in and around me.

Blue meditation, when the owl calls my name.

Heaven only knows why I link the colour blue to peaceful happiness in a perfectly still world. To me there is nothing nicer than to put on soft chanting music and climb into a warm foamy bath in the knowledge that the next few hours are for yourself alone.
I love to lie in water and forget the world around me and it is then I find that I am just "me". Being myself is very important, it is at these times when I am "me" that I find I can discover more about all that is around me and affects me.
If blue is brought into this equation then an acceptance of self follows and peace on all levels is maintained. It then matters not if one does not show the human outlook of perfection in the physical, nor the mental capabilities expected from those around one who only seek to criticise .
It is when immersed in soft comforting warm water, almost like the foetal womb, that the calling of the owl is heard. The wisdom of the owl and his calling of one's name are the combining of human and animal ancient intelligences and therefore when the two are brought together they bring about an almost total understanding of all that is and all that was.
To know and accept the calling of one's name by the owl is to realise that the soul is what controls our existence, not the physical body. When this fact is realised then one can only grow forward in the total knowledge that yes, perhaps man can be immortal, but only his soul and when physical importance falls away true meaning of everything will become as clear as the proverbial mountain stream and all false thoughts and ideas will filter away and the pure truth will be known.