Sometimes, with a light heart, we can unexpectedly find something precious in something very ordinary. The other day I was playing with a small stick in my hand as though it were a cigarette. Something inside let go. In my youth there had always been something rather liberating about smoking – the act of rebellion spiced up with the nicotine rush. Then, of course, I discovered along with the rest of my generation how damaging smoking really was for the health and I quit. With a small stick, however, there was the chance to relive the liberating feeling without harm. Just feeling the familiar sensation of something between the correct two fingers, I could already feel a little lift, a sense of freedom. This was playing a little with the thrill of renunciation, harmlessly getting beyond caring. Such it was that I came to find comfort in a small stick, called Harold. Such it was that I invented the ‘patent corona comforter’ available to be forever found for free, in any forest or garden, by any cool contemplative.
I offer this for your reflection