In the torments of life, those with which it never fails to sprinkle our daily lives,
How easy it is to lose sight of the essential and to let our inner landscape be invaded by relentless editing of past material, our necessarily egocentric interpretations, from one background to the next.
The essential escapes and carries in its wake the laughter of children, the delicate gestures, loving looks,
And the words that I let you take away without you knowing I never really meant them.
©FJ April 2022
Recueils — Participations
Groupe De Pratique
Many thanks to all
Notes & Silence 
So…
If the actual meaning is always hidden behind an egocentric stockade of mere words, how can what is meant ever be communicated?
How does one see past the stockade? Either one’s own or another’s.
Is this the counsel of absolute distrust in others, or in oneself. never being certain what it is one means even in one’s own mind? Or are both to be dismissed as a tissue of more or less unconscious lies?
Perhaps the observer sees more clearly? Then, one must stand apart from one’s own thoughts.
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