I start the day with small things of no importance to anyone but myself: my wish for this or that, my hope that I will make, my strength in health and heart, my sense of loss, my thirst to love, my breath. These things form the weather of my day, of being bright or covered with a cloud of grey.
Contemplation: thought's calm and patient effort; my need to know; the journey from desire and pain; the foothills of my search for peace.
I too easy loose the memory of things I love.
When something moves me, perhaps when I am with someone I love, under a canopy of autumn trees, high on a windy mountain side, or looking out across the bright shine of sun on sea, I note the day and place a reminder for myself so that each month on that date I am heartened once again.
Short words, a scent, touch, the light and sound of your voice. Simple things become my treasure.
Introspection: the reflective state of mind that observes and examines the inner life of thought, feelings, and ideas; the consideration of what we come to know through our body.
Only 'I' can introspect. I can only be introspective when part or all of my attention is within.
I can make instinctively without introspection, and I can make with or following introspection.
Language accommodates my state of introspection. Art can express and articulate its discoveries.