Speaking with Walruses

The time has come, the Walrus said,
To talk of many things:
Of shoes--and ships--and sealing-wax--
Of cabbages--and kings--
And why the sea is boiling hot--
And whether pigs have wings.

I woke up this morning with this Lewis Carroll poem wandering around in my head, and as soon as I logged in (which for me means I'm not even out of bed yet) I googled it and read the whole thing. Had forgotten the meaning of the poem, that the Walrus and the Carpenter were leading Oysters out of their beds and into Lunch.

After having read the whole thing through twice, I once again was struck by the incredibleness of words and word play, and the ingenuity of the human mind. Just for more fun, I went to my favorite blogs (star is the most prolific) and noticed that lscollison and star BOTH put pictures of the massive Universe on their blogs, one by linking to Astronomy Picture of the Day and the other with an educational journey through various sizes of planets, stars, galaxies.

So instead of reading the New York Times and the Huffington Post to accompany my morning tea, here I am sitting in bed with my laptop, it's still dark outside on this Sunday morning, writing about... what? Creativity. Creation. Life: what a journey we are on, feeling the remarkable and breathtaking possibilities we have, if only we take them.

Yes, we are less than a speck in this massive universe, but right now I am struck by what we can create, if only for ourselves and each other, that feels large enough to encompass the entire thing. We can imagine without limit. And with that thought, I think of Emily Dickinson, long dead, only a few decades on this planet, who wrote such an amazing collection of poems that it boggles my mind.

I stepped from Plank to Plank
A slow and cautious way
The Stars about my Head I felt
About my Feet the Sea.

I knew not but the next
Would be my final inch --
This gave me that precarious Gait
Some call Experience.

ED, 1896

I see it's even now dark outside and my partner still sleeps next to me while I bang out these words, with a day of possibility ahead. What shall I create?