sdi

Normally, I keep a very orderly and focused mind; but as my health has declined, this has become more and more difficult to do: it is as if my grip on the leash has weakened, and the dog readily slips my grasp and runs off, and I have to chase it down and catch it again. In just that way, I was out for a prayer walk, and the dog had just slipped my grasp again and, rather than praying, I found myself musing, "but Hesiod says that the angels are the firstborn of the gods, which..." Just as I caught myself pondering rather than praying, I tripped over, you guessed it, a tiny, white feather.

I suppose I should be less hard on myself and my poor mind.