Seems to me. There’s no right way or wrong way to muse. One
can do it. Any time. Any place. Just proceed. Muse. Muse. Muse. Impulsively. Endlessly.
To one’s delight. Yes, musing is as
simple as breathing. One does it. Automatically. To stay alive. I muse in my sleep. I was musing. Long before squeezing
out of my mother’s womb. I wonder. If I’ll
be able to muse. After I die. Forever and ever. Ah, such a blissful thought. --Jim Broede
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