I recently came across this line by Emily Dickinson: “I dwell in possibility.” I think that is a wonderful place in which to live—the realm of possibility, in which are all sorts of mundane things but also magical and mystical things too. And by things, I do not mean just physical objects, but the ideas around and beyond those objects, which of course leads me to thinking of William Carlos Williams, who shared that there are no ideas but in things. Which is a way of writing and especially the writing of poetry, and allows a reader to experience the poet’s experience in gleaning the idea from the images presented. But in, say, philosophy, the idea is the thing. Rene Descartes said “I think, therefore I am,” to which I reply, “I am, therefore I think.”
All things are possible, we are all kinds of possible. We wake up each morning, not really knowing what is about to happen, but the sense of expectation and wonder can go far in bringing us to experiences that are necessary for our growth, even if that is “just” the possibility of a sunny or rainy day. Each holds its own mystery to be unpacked into the reality we are experiencing.