"let it go, this too shall pass"

seems to be the daily motto. right now i cannot watch the ocean caressing the sand, washing off footprints, which would be a relief to some point and a moment i long for deeply, silently, patiently, 'acceptingly'. it is an ongoing challenge to observe and resist attachments and to practice letting go. it can be joyful as is demonstrated in this playful version here (I love the part where the spoons hit the glasses rhythmically while riding the guitar carrousel).

does this suggest that everything is pre-determined exactly the way it runs and turns out? what happens when a ball runs off course, when a piece does not hit its successor? this must have happened so that somebody turned off the camera, rebuilt and started recording anew. at least this seems to happen to me all the time. the question that leaves me pondering is this: do we make the choices ourselves or is our fate placed in the hands of something other? what are those moments when i do not accept the way something turns out to be and choose to act, guided by something deep inside, call it intuition. but in other moments i just give in, leaning backwards, resting my head with hands and foot soles turned upwards to the sky. is my choice of acting or letting go predetermined, too?

this early morning was cold and moist while i was pedaling up the hill to join in the stretching and chanting. on the way home the sky had long turned grey, maybe hadn't even seen the light yet, and big fluffy snow flakes started dancing in the wind. it is early march, winter has worn me out. inside i carry a deep longing for spring. but i understand that this winter too shall pass and everything will start blossoming like never before. 

a big mug of hot cocoa later the sun broke out. i felt like dancing, too. i accept change. i am constant motion.