06/28/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 60

“Is it hard?”

I was asked this question by a dear and highly intelligent friend concerning this project.

No and yes and sometimes. It has taken me a few days to think this one through a little.

It's entirely dependent upon perspective.

Does it require effort? Yes, and certainly a good deal of it. If "it" is showing up to play guitar, 'sometimes' is the answer. But it isn't hard like putting an animal down, or throwing a few thousand bales of hay around in high 30 degree weather with splinters under your nails and near bloody scratches covering your arms while coughing on dust and you just jammed your grease stained thumb hitching the wagon. To play some guitar for an afternoon sure isn't hard, per se. How about raising a family? That must be hard. Trying to sleep on an empty stomach and there's no food to speak of or money to buy anything. That's hard, but even then, the lessons gained in humility out weigh any temporary hardships. Endurance can be hard, but it can be euphoric. At times taking four intentional breaths without the mind wandering in every direction is seemingly impossible. But those moments are fleeting, like the wave of an all-encompassing pain that fills every crevice of your body and mind, it too passes. That is existence and those are interesting, often hard places.

'Demanding' is closer to this relationship with the guitar and myself. Both need maintenance, like anything with a lot of moving parts. Learning how to play in the early years and throughout university seemed really hard, and 6 years ago in amidst of a musical burn out I felt a plateau that stretched on for a decade that wasn't easy to live with. I think self care and love can be hard, and that seems to have the biggest affect on the music I play. It's only hard if you tell yourself it is. The lasting rewards only come with some form of hardship to surpass. There is sacrifice attached to any pursuit. Maybe what is considered "hard" is new, the hardest thing to overcome for me is self doubt.

What isn’t hard and is always the most joyous and exciting moment is opening the last latch on my guitar case and the little kid eagerness, curiosity, creativity and life force of wonderment comes flooding in. There is always a musical idea in the backdrop of my existence so I gravitate to exploring those seedlings to form something out of the mess. Some days are pure and effortless flights take off while others are grueling mountains to climb. Both ends of the spectrum give way to the same sense of satisfaction and abundant elation when all the hardships disappear in moments of actualizing potential. That is where I want to be. That’s what I’m trying to pursue.


06/26/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 58

The feeling is like an undertow that you've given over to.

I came close to drowning once. Around the age of 9 or 10, summertime and long afternoons spent on sandy beaches. Crowded beach filled with people, wading out into the shallow Northumberland water, trying to reach a further sandbar. In water way over my head while the tide was sneaking in. There was sheer panic and fear. A lot of struggle and when you're toes no longer can feel bottom as the crest pulls you in a 45 degree and you're not a strong swimmer, it gets pretty scary. As our bodies are incredible creatures when the struggle ends and you hand yourself over, it was pure quiet ecstasy calm. I became one with the water molecules, my own body disappeared and the sky melted blue overhead as I succumbed. Then as abrupt as a fish out of water an older and taller cousin pulled me hard and fast and I coughed, spit up and in a few seconds could feel bottom again. It felt as near death as I'd want to be.

I learned a lot about the seas's fierceness even in calm waters. I've tried to become a better swimmer, now I mostly hug the shorelines and float. It was the overwhelming feeling of calmness and connected molecules that returned so many years later during today's session. It was unhinged and liberating, profound but feather-light like pollen or a kite dancing across the sky on a windy day. As connected to the water I felt in a moment of letting the panic go so many years ago, I felt a similar connection to the air on the shoreline today. I had abandoned the mental jargon and released the wordless occupying, imprisoning thoughts. It all comes back to the breath.

This also marked the 58th day of incorporating Wim Hof's breathing method. I now breathe fully in (and release) for 40 times and then hold the breath on the last exhalation. Four rounds of this routine takes me about 30 minutes and it replenishes the entire day in a way I cannot properly articulate. Immediately following the last round is a euphoria where my feet do not feel the ground below, nor does my skin feel the air that surrounds. It isn't a separating sensation, rather one of unity and of connected-ness by ways too advanced and deep for our brains to comprehend. It is not mystical, but tangible, a direct and physical gift like the fruits from the efforts of labour, routine, and honest work. Wim Hof explains the physiology best. I just try to take in the experience, relax and feel the blood going into the depths and all the sensations therein.


06/21/19 - 06/25/19 by Jesse Griffith

Days 52 to 57

Backlogged blog, ditches overflowed and onward with the performances I go. This past weekend was the annual Full Circle Festival held on the banks of the Avon River in celebration of a new season with music, unions of old and new friends of all ages and backgrounds.

It was at this Festival of good cheer when a friend of the community congratulated me on having found a "temple" or "your church." I had never thought of it this way. The temple is considered to be a sacred site for worship with religious affiliations. It can also be a place for offerings. The latter resonates deeply within my world. Where does a calling come from? It is there for those who listen, with pursuit, determination, as one explores the limits of intelligence and the depth of surroundings. This man-made structure carries a great deal of importance in my life, some of which I already know and somethings I have yet to discover. The calling to, I am certain of, as well as my love of the guitar have coalesced into a larger embodiment of my passion, purpose, goals and desires.

For the Ancient Egyptians, temples linked the human and divine realms and allowed humans to interact with the gods through ritual. These rituals, it was believed, sustained the god and allowed it to continue to play its proper role in nature. They were, therefore, a key part of the maintenance, the ideal order of nature and of human society. Some further research outlines societies from all over having various practices containing places or structures for these purposes.

Aside from the routine and regiment of showing up, walking up the hill, entering the Camera and unpacking my guitar, everyday is brand new to discover. Never stale or stagnant, there is always something unique and special presenting itself, it takes a keen eye and an open heart. I am always excited to hear the first sounds, whether by nature or by me (also nature), to immerse myself within this sheltered world that looks out towards the mighty Cape Blomidon surrounded by the ever shifting tidal waters. The slightest changes can have the most dramatic effects, contrasted by dramatic changes having little or no noticeable change.

This time and space is allowing the music to flourish in a way that I have always dreamed of. A freedom I have always desired but couldn't achieve without discovering the Wandarian mode. It allows me to place the notes distinctly where they want to fit, even among the flurries, there is intentional space between these rushes of notes. The lines between melody, harmony, bass and accompaniment are blurred. There is left but an overall singular sound that contains traces of these elements, but not distinctively so.

I have forgone the stool and have been sitting directly on the smooth, cold concrete and pebble floor, using that as a reflector for sound. Tilting the instrument a few inches one way can create a resonance with a certain note that overwhelms all others. This resonant note can be played with a whisper but it engulfs the entire structure and anyone in there. A few inches in another direction and that tone sinks away without any reverberation and opens the door for a different tonality to take over. These minute changes alter what I am playing and vice versa. Is the structure composing the song or am I?


06/20/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 51

My mother came out to the day’s session and the first thing she recognized were the birds. They seem to know when I arrive and sing a special arrival song. Then I enter and unpack my guitar and they settle. As I start to play, a whole other series of birds continue in a new and exciting way. A cacophony of beauty. The sounds mingle and reverberate together. The experience after 51 days is deepening and I don’t even realize what I am playing, just handing over my ability and allowing the sounds to flow as they please.

I often feel like I am playing along to the birds, but it was my mother who perceived these deeper observations. Maybe we’re both out to lunch there with the birds.


06/19/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 50

I’m fired up from the lack of regard for any positive environmental progress. Turn on any news outlet and listen to the devastation of this planet. Even in small town Windsor NS, West Hants, where the virtues of “rural living” and peaceful quiet shorelines infiltrate tourism campaigns and paint this idyllic quaint existence, it’s all window dressing and smoke and mirrors. That lifestyle prevails but for how long? No one talks about the poverty in rural areas, the addictions, the divide between funding allotted to city initiatives vs. rural areas, the lack of usable internet and service in these disenfranchised areas, community halls left to rot, issues of roads, cost of fuel and oil, and wood, access to healthcare etc… The realities paint a very different picture than the pastoral beauty of these remarkable and resilient villages and towns.

While the world denounces fracking as a valid means of resource extraction, the council and the political attitudes are still antiquated, archaic and downright corrupt. Big business overtaking, as our shortsighted policy makers still only see dollar signs. This province, because of it’s poverty is desperate and for sale, with no regard for what really matters in life and what is truly at stake.

End rant for now. I must play guitar to settle these feelings.


06/18/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 49

I attended a meeting with the Culture and Heritage Minister of Parliament Pablo Rodriguez prior to today’s session. I tend to be a tad jaded and cynical when hearing politicians speak. Always one foot in the campaign trail and another one in ambiguity. I wasn’t surprised. Sure lots of good can come from these systems but the facing reality is that the big corporations have way more clout and power than any political party, leaves me feeling disheartened. I am not complaining, just frustrated by the mechanics of a system with so many moving parts and cracks for things to fall between the dollar signs.

It is refreshing to just pick up my instrument and let if all go. This truly is a place of peace and contentment for me and allowing people to share this creative and sacred space is a privilege and that is where the real work happens.


06/17/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 48

So many lawn mowers.

Took my guitar to the Salt Marsh Trail behind the Obscura. Not conducive to for recording but it sure is a pleasure to play in among the trees and high grasses away from the droning noise and nonsense of combustion engines cutting dandelions.


06/16/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 47

Father's day session. Was blessed to observe my friends' family through the lens of the camera, a real joy to witness. Like moving memories, a kite taking flight, snacks around a picnic table. Nostalgia viewed through the lens of time. So much wrapped up in this experience.


06/15/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 46

Spent the previous night finishing up the next record, volume III (electric) in the city.The album wears some cool textures and shows blemishes. I was happy to come back out to the Obscura and get down to work and be immersed in the sounds and sights of nature, sans electricity.


06/14/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 45

Halfway marker, a reminder that everyday is a gift and now is the time to do what you love, be who you want to be and try to be kind all around.

For today and tomorrow (Friday June 14th and Saturday the 15th) I will be playing earlier. 1:00 start times to accommodate other music happenings.


06/13/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day (Night) 44

Due to construction on site (they installed a washroom facility) I performed an evening session from 8:45 to 10:00PM. It is astonishing how different everything felt. The birds all were silent, replaced by spring peepers, frogs. The tide was in and the sky was hung with high captivating cirrus clouds. The setting sun overtook the deep blues of the Bay and for 30 minutes the sky and water became engulfed in a magical display of changing light. Deep reds gave over to pinks, then to orange yellow and finally blues before darkness finally emerged. Mars and the moon were spotlighting the Obscura from the West and created a marvelous setting for playing. The walls felt nearer, more intimate as I sat on the ground resting my back on the warm bricks heated by the day's intense sun. I did not record much audio as I felt it was taking me away from the moment, by trying to capture the moment. I wanted the full experience of the evening to inform my playing and the sound projected through the curved walls. I will share a short clip of a few minutes just to hear the difference.

How does one effectively capture the moments? Do we choose what experiences we hold on to? And if they are captured, how accurate is that representation? What does being in the moment mean to you? Moments change so fast. How much control is in our hands? Yes, I have been contemplating consciousness and what Sam Harris describes as "the illusion of free will." These thoughts tend to hurt my head and always leave me in a place of mystery and wonder as neuroscience can't explain everything.

Mars in the West, Moon overhead (not pictured)

Mars in the West, Moon overhead (not pictured)

06/12/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 43

I used to think rural folks were nosy, always leering at cars that pass by no matter where along the shore you happen to be. After almost six years of living here, I now see it as an unspoken and caring dose of functional community. Strangers who wave and recognize you by the vehicle you drive. It is an undercurrent of acknowledgement and concern that these simple gestures weave a strange and beautiful fabric to everyday life along these twisty roads. They notice if you've been away for a stretch of time, they have your routines dialed in. People genuinely care. I am a participant now and am a firm believer to the myriad of benefits that community adds towards a healthy existence.

Stretching the Minas Basin shores, music happens on the most local of levels, many small community halls hold jam nights, where anyone who can grip a G and D chord are welcome to join in. Audiences appreciate the old time sounds of the Carter Family and other country songs. It isn't about the musical prowess or showing off, it is the basic regular gatherings that have had lasting impact.

Although this music I am making isn't necessarily geared for these types of audiences, it isn't exclusionary and it has found a homely place to dwell in the Obscura. Almost halfway through this 90 day project and the routine is second nature and playing for a wide diverse section of of tourists, locals, school kids, teenagers and retirees is always rewarding. Not many seems to notice that I'm exploring the guitar in a new way and I take that as a good sign. It is simply the music I hear trying to come alive into the world. I am the one that feels rewarded by these irrational efforts with new sounds and songs. I will continue to reveal and explore similarities through the guitar in disparate musical cultures and eras as long as I keep hearing the sounds, they need to come out.


06/11/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 42

Some days the music just pours out I can barely contain it. The air seems to resonate brighter and reflects in such a way that to produce sound is effortless. It is also reckless, wild, raw with reaches in many genres, feels and times. There is groove but it is suggested rather than pounding. Same with melody and rhythm, I am merely suggesting these components and offering the listeners to piece together what they want or allow. The full experience is to immerse oneself in the main chamber along side me while I play and allow the sounds to engulf. Like any music, a good pair of over the ear headphones is always an intimate sonic treat.

I will share some sounds from the day. One is an extension to a piece that came out of last week. I am imagining a larger work here, an opening sonata, a slow movement, a minuet and a closing rondo... I have never composed anything to strict form but I am excited to see where this music will take me. The juxtaposition is that I am using my entire life of studies and turning it upside and finding a primal approach to the guitar that is almost anti-technical. I came up with a term the other day, "micro dronal" that covers some of the sounds I am after. Finding micro tones, notes in-between the standard 12 note set of western music and the drone coming from steady bass notes around a single mode that is mostly determined by the tuning I am using. Last I checked there are about 15 different tunings I explore on a regular basis and feel versed enough in to present works in.

Educate! A school bus observed from the obscura.

Educate! A school bus observed from the obscura.

06/10/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 41

Contemplating the brief opportunity we are given to explore the human potential. Creativity holds one of the keys to unlocking a great life. Music in my world contains elements that connect our bodies, minds and souls to spirits and emotions floating in our cosmos from this earthen vessel and beyond. Music has showed me how to feel, it continues to create magic in my life and gives me goosebumps just thinking about a certain song at a given time. This is partly what I am trying to do. Elevate the human experience with sound to connect and compliment the voices in our heads and with the aural of the natural world. To experience even for a brief minute or two what it feels like to let go of everything and be submersed in sounds. Using the most common and easily recognizable instrument in the world, it's good for our health.

Some folks don't hear or pay any attention to music. I had reminders of this yesterday. I take no offence and simply observe. My only hope is that they have something of a similar platform or modality that connects and inspires them, as music does for me. It takes all kinds to create this world. Find a passion and go do it. Learn, study, practice and share. Dream, hope and use volition to act upon the will we are handed.


06/9/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 40

Compassion as a theme or the lack thereof is still running strong through my system. It seems in today's sensitive social climates people are quick to judge, polarize into groups and attack with ideological weapons. All from the comfort of homes or cafes, behind walls of screens that work to addict and divide, rather than liberate and unite. I wish people could use this privilege for the common good and not to turn on one another. Perspectives are easily misconstrued online and words on the screen lack the necessary nuances of speech and bodies of face to face dialogue, there is a lot to be desired.

A few interesting side notes with this project that mark a lot of changes. On the first day, I happened to move into a new (old) farmhouse, I also have incorporated the Wim Hof breathing method into a daily ritual and due to rural limitations have forgone the internet. These are experiments. Not quite the 40 days of biblical proportion, but some observations are clear.

Life is uncluttered without the internet or wifi in the house. It is tangible and remarkable. It leaves time for doing the things I am most passionate towards and rather than feeling “missing out” I am getting more experience out of life. Rather than distract endlessly with youtube videos or infinite research, or often dark travels down most comment sections, I am faced with time. Time the way I want to spend it. It is regaining autonomy and a sense of agency. I am not stating the internet is all bad, I am simply observing the changes of not having easy access to it. I am lucky that I can use it for an hour at work to post these entries. Having a clear task and getting in and out is not only productive, it is highly effective and efficient.

The biggest impact has been the Wim Hof breathing method that triggers our immune system to go to work. Take 30 full and intentional breaths, after the last exhalation hold your breath. The first time I couldn't last 45 seconds. Yesterday, I reached 2:30 secs without air. That would be considered one round. I do four rounds of this. The depths we can travel inside our bodies are as profound as anything. I am no expert, just open and willing to try anything to live a better life. He has done fascinating and in-depth scientific research and the results are positively widespread. Anxiety, depression are the first things to vanish. Then ailments and chronic symptoms are attacked from the bodies own primordial response mechanisms that are triggered to heal what needs to be healed in this oxygen deprived process. Observing the inner workings of this experience are quite exhilarating, and it leaves me feeling euphoric and energized, every time. I also love that it requires no equipment, is entirely accessible to every human and costs no money. I have noticed tangential benefits, more patience for poor human behaviors, increased empathy and clearer access to creativity among others. I recommend anyone to give it a try, it does no harm.


06/8/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 39

Enter instrumental music, how learning to use my mouth again taught me how to listen and caring for a dying man. I knew my wounds would heal, his would finally kill.

Two years ago to this day, I suffered a near death fall. I went for a short cycle ride, actually I went for the uphill climb. I needed to burn some stress of the previous 72 hours. 5 weeks into a stay helping my best friend in a palliative care situation. I wanted to feel the burn on my legs, the wind in my hair, the salt sea air in my lungs and to reconnect with the spirit of my old dog. A quick 5 minute round trip is all I needed. The bicycle as escape, as transport and independent as it gets. A tune running through my head, motion pictures passing by, freedom is just a few peddles away. Never one for speed, always erring on the cautious side it hit me like a tidal wave. Only it was the flared steel handle bars colliding with my face. Rolling down the lighthouse road hill, ancient asphalt in dire need of repair teamed with city tires and a quick release front tire not properly maintained. No warning. Instant face plant. No time to react, not even the slightest wobble. With any pot holes the slightest lift does wonders when cycling over roughness. As I lifted so gently like a thousand times before that front tire stayed hard on the ground. In a lot less than a second I was colliding with those handle bars, then went over them while still holding on to have my nose and face break my fall. I ate pavement. Everything stopped. I still have braces holding my front teeth in place. The Third Eye scar on my forehead healing, leaving reminders of another tale survived. My nose instantly shattered had to be held on with 21 stitches. When I came to in the hospital, I noticed that I didn’t break a nail on my picking hand. I took it as a sign to reconnect with the nylon string guitar. Amazingly no serious head injury (I know of) I never wore a helmet as long as I could remember. Maybe the false sense of security, but more out of sheer vanity, I avoid them. I now avoid the prospect of cycling at all. It would have taken a hockey mask to save my face from the devastation it underwent.

When I got up from the fall, it felt like a mile walk of shame holding my face on and soaking the blood spilling from my face onto my denim wrangler button up. No cell service in this area, but somehow I was able to send one text to my ex-partner and naturopath who still lives 3 miles up the road read, “I need help.” A man of few words. She soon found me and followed closely behind the 45 min ambulance ride to the emergency room, and then stuck by my side for the next 7 days. A woman of intense character and willingness to help no matter what the circumstance entails. The previous Fall was as profound a time as I’ve ever known. The universe opened wide and I had no choice but to embark on the journey of a lifetime and float into the light that parted a cloudless sky, as we parted ways.

Perspective is everything. The week of being bed ridden left time for other areas of my life that needed addressing. I knew my wounds would heal, his would finally kill. Everything we face in life we are built equipped and each experience contains unique lessons to discover. Some are subtle and others have the force of an aluminum baseball bat smashed against your face. Others offer the slow deterioration of man, before my eyes. It was this man that showed me what community is. Never had I had known what true community involves in all its rawness, addiction-fueled, family bonded, neighborly waving, rubberneck drive-bys, trigger happy machine gun mouthed, snow shoveling stormed in driveways, hay bailing all hands on deck, anonymous deer steak gift wrapped on the porch step to come home to when there’s insufficient funds in all the bank accounts and credit card companies stay well clear, two years in a row claiming zero income but the riches of the universe unfold and mesmerize adding fuel to fires that will burn forever.

When all you’ve got left is your senses, they are put to work for the body that can’t fight the gravity any longer, “Hand operated legs,” he'd say. When a puff off a joint is too much for the lungs to bear and an entire meal is reduced to a spoonful of plain yogurt and a tea with milk.

I’ve seen the grimace of pain overtake the odd moment here or there over the last four years. That missing eye tooth contortion of agony took over the entire psyche, filled the room and enveloped the house and reached around the yard to spill over to the community and along the shore, across the Bay and over the ancient Cobequid hills and past the provincial line and clear beyond the reaches of the Maritimes to the west and over the Atlantic ocean pond and into the ether of the stars. One tea bag pot, steeping on the counter since last night, micro-waved for 45 seconds, “Breakfast is ready” I say. The vicious 12 hour morphine cycle unwinds, the last two hours practically unbearable. I pick up the guitar, filling the silence as best I could. Lightening up the heavy lead atmosphere of the crumbling plaster of centuries old walls, the music fills all the spaces in between, simmers the grimace, rests the mind, calms the nervous system and gives me something to do. This was the setting for my first foray into learning West African Kora pieces.

Music has been healing people for 30,000 years and more. In this fast pace bullshit filled society, it is a dispensable commodity. Taken for granted, overstuffed, over saturated, watered down, but all around. Like weeding a neglected garden trying to find the fruit. Over exposed under attack nature’s wild ride, finding the perfect tune for the moment, endless options and marketing strategies and lifeless songs written in boardrooms. I tend to go for the sacred songs the ocean sings, or the desert chants of the Tuareg or the lonesome sounds of the blue mountain songs. As Coltrane said, “It’s all folk music. I play folk music, music for folks.”

I couldn't talk much for the first few weeks home. I would have brutal reminders learning how to chew with the new positioning of my front teeth when they were still loose for the next year, biting down on the wrong spot as it would send painful chills throughout my entire body. 2 years to the day I have most of the braces off save for 3, waiting for my eye tooth to get strong enough to live on its own. I have started to sing again, but had to find a new voice. The amount of healing my mouth had to go threw changed the mechanics of everything. During this time, I found I could say and express clearer thoughts and emotions with instrumental music. No trappings of language to get in the way. I am still exploring this avenue.


06/7/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 38

This day is dedicated to compassion. For each other, for the earth we are fortunate to walk, for ourselves and every species living and what’s come before.


06/6/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 37

"People aren't finding themselves. People are creating themselves." - Bob Dylan

Dylan hasn't done an interview in two decades. This came from a recent conversation with Martin Scorsese from a new film about the artist in the mid 70's during his Rolling Thunder era. A time when his energized charisma was laser focused with his vocal delivery. Every word was dagger sharp and punctuated with clear authority and urgency. The band was a morphing malleable unit. This idea of creating ourselves versus finding oneself hit me like a hurricane. I have never heard this articulation in such a simple, profound way. Dylan is a guiding light for our times. You don't have to like his music to appreciate his force. He is magnetic, a presence beyond definition, he embodies creativity.

After 37 days I have had unfiltered time to contemplate and explore the very nature of creation, sound presentation, the mind and our purpose of simply being. My life is full of searching, to some extent it still is. The search is for wisdom, knowledge, tools for better navigating and understanding human and '“otherly” connections. Experiences happen and pile up. Like a junk drawer full of keepsakes, or a collected place for the un-organize-able things, contained to one place, this physical body. The musical quest is a search for identity at a particular life junction, an outlet of development to better express what lies beneath being and to expel both the beauties and horrors of experience. Dylan is right, I am not finding myself. The only being I truly do know is thyself and I am found. We must connect to, nurture and appreciate our bodies, these vessels evolved to house our minds and launch our spirits, the creations that will outlive the physical. Creation is beautiful, therefore, people are too.

There is universal wisdom in this Dylan quote. It is suitable to everyone in every context. We find ourselves immersed in interactions, each one unique to the moment in time. Enacting upon our autonomy, every conversation is an opportunity of creation. An experience however mundane or trivial then becomes a canvas for the fingerprints of our souls to paint. We tend to underestimate the power of our thoughts. Over the last few years I have put efforts into letting the negative thoughts escape. Not to block them with repression. They vanish and return all the time. I have the choice to either be tortured and imprisoned by them or to be free from the shackles that constrict and limit the love, freedom, empathy, compassion and understanding that embolden existence..


06/5/19 by Jesse Griffith

Day 36

Obscure - not discovered or known about; uncertain, not clearly expressed or easily understood. (Oxford Dictionaries)

I am allotting today’s session to be completely un-tethered and free. The whole process is allowing me to lie in the obscure and question things that don’t necessarily have answers and to be okay with that. Letting go of the outcome and not attaching myself to anything other than whats in my hands and inside my heart. Many talk of living in the moment, to be there takes effort, to be ‘here’ and enjoy every moment is the true aim that is rarely easily understood, if ever.