I used to have a small walled garden leading off a wide thatched verandah which my partner christened the “inner sanctum”, and the name stuck.
Each gardening decision was taken meditatively.
This is not to say that it did not entail hard physical labour; it did.
It simply means that I would gaze at the garden for many an hour before I worked in it.
Once the work was done and tools cleaned and put away, I would sit once again and meditate in wonder at the work in progress.
I could see the result of my labour; tangible, living evidence of a creative spirit.
An outer reflection of my inner being, lovingly tended, flourished.
As a translator, I am a producer of texts.
In the old days, this meant stacks and stacks of neatly collated wads of paper in serially numbered archived boxes and a sturdy pre-archive filing cabinet.
Now, much of what I produce ends up on the Internet.
Even though I know the real repository is likely to be one of several huge data banks at various geographical locations on the planet, I still imagine the Internet as being “in the sky”.
This is a liberating thought, so aptly expressed is this cartoon.
Only, my bits of paper would have scribblings on them.