So I wonder this, as life billows smoke inside my head
This little game where nothing is sure
Why would you play by the rules?
Who did? You did. You…
~ Dave Matthews
♫ (Dodo) ♫
nothing is sure
So I wonder this, as life billows smoke inside my head
This little game where nothing is sure
Why would you play by the rules?
Who did? You did. You…
~ Dave Matthews
♫ (Dodo) ♫
I decided yesterday that I do not wish to follow the rules Barbara. Who makes the rules anyway? I’ll bet your beautiful wise tree follows its own rules. 🙂
Good for you, Joanne! Just yesterday? 🙂 The one who coined the proverb that ‘rules were made to be broken’ was on to something significant. I used to play by the rules, but Dave’s lyrics changed my thinking on that…
Rules ? What rules ? 😉
No rules exist for Sybil – wonderful!!! 🙂
That’s right.. when nothing is sure, what rules? I would love to remember this, every time. In every situation. Thank you!!
You’re welcome, Sonali – it is a helpful thing to realize and to remember! As Ralph Waldo Emerson points out:
Our life is an apprenticeship to the truth that around every circle another can be drawn; that there is no end in nature, but every end is a beginning; that there is always another dawn risen on mid-noon, and under every deep a lower deep opens.
Who needs rules? 🙂 Your tree is lovely. Have you figured out what it is yet?
Thank you, Robin. I hope to figure out what kind of tree it is when the leave become unfurled… 🙂
Every day is for renewal – for branching out, which is something your tree was made to do even as it is rooted. Rules so often do not allow for growth.
So true, rules, dogma and doctrine can be so stifling and restricting, snuffing out any urge to evolve, blossom or flourish. Trees do teach us about renewal, and I think their burls teach us about healing…