Ha, ha, ha, said the lichen.

 It was a bit of lichen, but when I looked at it, it seemed to talk. 

'HA!' it said. I stopped mid-sentence to my friend. And I smiled.

To be honest, I don't really even recall what exactly we were talking about. We were doing some insight meditation, which we call a "tune-in". I know the gist of our conversations, but not the specifics. It's only been 24 hours, yet I have forgotten most of those small details.

But the lichen? That I remember. 

I often think about how insignificant my life is. It is nowhere as impressive as that of other people. I have few grand things to talk about. This blog, which I had long left aside, shows just that: it is a collection of small details, of snaps of thought. They are perceptions of life, my interpretation of the world around me.

There are many amazing similar collections, though far more impressive, such as Marcus Aurelius' Meditations. They are small realisations, reminders, rules for a better life. I recognise their worth. On the other hand, mine appear mere flights of fancy, though I do

Did the lichen laugh? No, of course not. However, that is what my brain picked upon. That is what my memory of it has become. 

Does it matter? I wonder about that.


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