Henry Miller was an American Writer from the 1900s. He’s known for, among other things, breaking with literary styles of his day. He was born in New York. He lived and wrote for a significant time in Paris. He died in California.
A few of Henry Miller’s words were spoken as a closing check-out by a participant at The Circle Way Practicum that ended two days ago. It was for me a beautiful closing (the person who spoke them was in fact the last person in the circle).
“The aim of life is to live, and to live means to be aware … joyously, drunkenly, serenely, divinely aware.”
I hope for this in myself, all of these layers, to be living. I long for the overall feeling of such aliveness and awareness. In self, and in group, and in community.
Some days, it doesn’t come so easily. When aloneness overtakes (or appears to), leaving only the next precarious step through wobbly and slippery stones of despair.
Some days, it comes so easily. Like in that closing circle when people sang, offered gratitudes. I gushed with the beauty of it, a momentary increased and awakened awareness, fed to the center by the group, and to be carried to the next circle, with gracious aim.