Depending on the day I would swear to you that we are nothing more than chemical reactions. Or…we are Living Light masquerading as form. Or…we are blood and bones destined to bump and grind our way to our delightful graves. Depending on the day I would swear to you that I am me and you are you and we’re at our best when we’re leaving each other alone to do what we do. Depending on the day, maybe if I’ve had that second glass of wine, I’ll just stare at you dopey eyed and in love because wine, like chocolate, sends me into an oxytocin coma.
"Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes." – Walt Whitman
What magical contraption is this existence that I can be so contrary and so together at the same time?
I wholeheartedly love this life for the spaciousness it offers and for all the wonder it contains. There is so much space. There is so much wonder. There is so much beauty even amidst rampant homosapien stupidity. From the morning drives accompanied by great minds streaming through my car stereo to the days overflowing with the magic only so few notice, I feel it in my atoms – the greatness, the vastness, the all-giving-ness of each moment. So much synchronicity waits our acknowledgement. So much divinity waits to meet us.
It takes just a moment of being fully present, filled with presence, to see and hear and feel the majesty of our invisible wholeness. It takes just a mindful instant to widen your open heart even more. I’m overwhelmed often by life’s generosity, by the sight and understanding it has seeded me with that leaves me witnessing and unfolding within a world that is more awe than it is ordinary.
This thing I feel…it’s timeliness and forever entangled and woven into every self I have ever been and will ever be.