Taming the wild irrational motions of the soul

Gray skies again this morning, after so many days of sun that even the pine tree by the back door was starting to turn brown.  Some part of me is grateful -- we could use cool weather, and some rain -- but another part of me mourns, knowing summer's drawing to a close.

But -- as May Sarton states in my reading this morning,  "every grief or inexplicable seizure by weather, woe, or work can -- if we discipline ourselves and think hard enough -- be turned to account, be made to yield further insight into what it is to be alive, to be a human being...

"The discipline of work provides an exercise bar, so that the wild, irrational motions of the soul become formal and creative...Each day, and the living of it, has to be a conscious creation, in which discipline and order are relieved with some play and some pure foolishness."  How shall we play today?