All paths lead to now/pulse
I have been thinking lately about tributaries; about the many streams that have flowed into my life, making it what it is — the river of my life. Will you stay with me with this? I have never shied away from metaphors that may seem to some as too easy, or cliché, as it is not the novelty of an angle on a situation, but rather the deepest truth, that speaks to me. And often, as life proves time and time again, it is the simplest things that speak the loudest. A drizzle of olive oil on spicy arugula that sprouted a few kilometres away, to the depth that a gaze can reach in a lovers eye, to the utter sublimity of a dandelion, pushing its life upwards against the impossibility of a crack in the concrete. Do we need to make things more complicated than this? For intellect and ego? For the refusal of the material, the sensuous, the sensitive, and the soft? Can we simply observe, and stay right here, in the now that is all? With the widening doors of our perception? Is it okay to stay in this miraculous body, and feel our aliveness, pulsing, in every moment? As it has since the moment you became, until the moment you are no longer. Can you feel it? The pulse that reverberates through the earth, into air, within water, everywhere at once. A pulse that will never stop. The pulse within us all — shared. A pulse that is beating faster — you can feel it, running underneath the surface of it all, the great unrest — because life as we know it is threatened. Because, undivided from earth, inextricably linked to all life on this fragile rock, what is happening to the earth is happening to ourselves. Physically, psychologically, and spiritually. So don’t turn away, feel into it. Feel into the discomfort and the fear. But stay here, stay within your body, and the body of our home. Earth. Feel into the life abounding around you. Have you heard the birds return? Have you seen the blossoms showing their sweet faces to the sun? Can you smell the earth after rainfall, inviting life? There is loss, yes. But there is so much to be grateful for. So much to be in heartbreaking awe over. Trust the tributaries, and let life flow. Darkness within the light, weight within the weightless, pulse within the stillness. Right here, dear heart, right here.