One of the things I'm appreciating about my current bout with Chinese medicine is the fact that if I can't find the language to explain exactly how I'm feeling, I don't have to. Today, when I could only shrug my shoulders in response to his questions, the Sufi acupuncturist abandoned the idea of a conversation and instead just put me on the table and "listened" to my pulses. In that way he learned everything he needed to know in order to proceed with the treatment. I love language and words, but sometimes it's such a relief not to have to talktalktalktalktalktalk.
Here, too, I can't seem to put any words together. It's just that kind of week. Sad that the option of listening to my pulses is not yet technologically possible on Blogger.
Oh well. Instead, here's one from a series I'm especially fond of, street pics of what we Americans call "manhole covers." (Who thought of that name anyway?)
2 comments:
Sounds like you may want to attend a Word Origins class.
you write, "I can't seem to put any words together...Sad that the option of listening to my pulses is not yet technologically possible on Blogger."
... with your talented eye, words aren't always necessary in blogland - a reya picture says more than a 1,000 words - every picture tells a story don't it? ;)
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