Dartmouth thoughts

In every pebble the beauty of the world is contained. Every spot seems to be the spot where the beauty has reached perfection. Every pebble is the world; Worlds.......... And I am consoled. I am temporarily appeased. I wasn’t just before. And the day before. Who am I? Who am I if I haven’t got my work, my profession, my husband, my children, my things? The illusion of identity, which changes depending on situation and people. But only a few, they are interchangeable and mostly compatible. But what if I am stripped of it all? What remains? My intellectual understanding (belief?) - Says the soul. But I am not ready yet to dispense of titles, things, people. What would happen to me if I was left to my own devices, bare of extensions and appendices? Would I succumb and die or would I discover my treasure? I can not possibly contemplate that - yet. For now I take consolation in the beauty of the pebbles and stones – natures’ soul.