as an antidote to fear of death I eat the stars
      Maria Popova
 
 
too many words.  too few spoken aloud.  stumble is good.

my child, you are beautiful.  I feel pain saying that to myself.

I used to think myself innocent because I didn’t inflict myself outwardly.  that was the justified story.  but no, merely subterfuge to have my way.

speak.  stumble.  be seen.  be known, be known.

beloved.
 
 
when I hear secular, I wanna say sacred.  yea, sometimes I’m amused being contrary-wise.  yet one-side is always a parse of the whole.  tell me how we see two of anything.  are secular & sacred mirror imprints of our existing?  unified.  two hands, is that a clue?

no, most churches wouldn’t much care for me.  I agree.

The essential quality of the infinite is its subtlety, its intangibility.  This quality is conveyed in the word spirit, whose root meaning is ‘wind or breath’.  That which is truly alive is the energy of spirit, and this is never born and never dies.

      David Bohm, physicist 01
 
 
I take this truth to be self-revealing.

what is, is.  what isn’t, isn’t.
 
 
yet there’s a lurking sense of humor.  everything.  everything includes everything that is and everything that isn’t.  that’s by nature, by essence.  by secular logic too.  does that feel right?  your choice, you know.

these notions sit quietly in the corner of my head and don’t seem to want leaving.  so this breath is how I see trees that move and wind on my skin and water on my feet.

put it this way.  I see sacred in secular.  said either way.  no exclusions.
isn’t that love?
 
 
defining love.

my one time teacher had lots to say.  about existence, about everything.  I think we were aligned.  how all this came to be, why it is the way it is.  all that stuff.  but I had an exception left feral outside on the doorstep.

what is, is.  yep, no problem.  but he included more.  affection.
I did not.  it didn’t seem a necessity.  but that was my hidden disguise of pain, of fear, me thinking myself alone.  he had better eyes, better heart.

I was wrong.

he loved me.  I wouldn’t love him.  too discomforting to see, to say.
what proof?  be kind, be generous.  the proof is unconditional choice.  and we can’t give it away, only demonstrate.

some say love doesn’t even belong to us.  no more than we own wind.
 
 
defining intimacy.

do we say, a genuine open willingness?  yet often palliative solutions abound.  ain’t that normal?  saved for only one?  withheld for only one?  does intimacy mean you gotta live with some only-one, love only-one, bind for all time?  I discovered one-day that I could feel intimacy for even one-moment, and it was as rich as a thousand years might pretend.

does sky breathe for only one of us?  choose.
 
 
long way to say, that’s how I want my writing to be.  me too.

I fail a lot.  I think too much.  say words that are only thoughts.  easy habit.  common habit.  shared habit.  lies I’m unwilling to break?  visceral feelings have better moments to explore.
 
 
free association.  a downhill stream.  trust is required.  trust is the reward.  say blue, what comes next?  the answer you get is the answer you get.  a certain lack of effort, struggle, except in letting go.  there’s that sense of humor again.  rivers don’t laugh, but they do smile.
 
 
this time of year our garden abounds with spiderwebs.  foggy mornings witness their thirsty tapestries.  I appreciate their companionship.  about writing, I’d like to cast good threads.  it is less about what I say than what you discover of your own relationship with experience.  that’s you more than me!

I’ll miss spiderwebs when I’m not here to see.

I’ll miss the imprint of a maple leaf in wet, now solid, concrete.
 
 
and while my thoughts and feelings spiral about a breath, consider who we are.  mostly hydrogen, mostly water, mother sea, mother star and mostly only slightly occupied space.  David Bohm suggested when gazing into the heavens, rather than empty lifeless space, see the fabric of energetic spirit, a matrix filling everything and here and there bubbles of matter afloat in that sea.

so then, walking down the street, the wonder of galaxies whose faces I briefly meet.  maybe fall in love.  do stars too, love all the light they see?

beloved.
 
 
 
now too the doctors say, here take this pill.  do this for so long as your life takes balance.  when they said cancer, years ago, fear was never a companion for me.  life wiggles a little differently is all.  but now, third time’s a charm, it is the financial side that says distress.  never was my charm.  it has no mass but it does have weight in thought.

writing I think, I feel, will be the better of medicines.
 
 
 
Link changed.   Updated 2023.03.04
 
01  Infinite Potential, The Life & Ideas of David Bohm (YouTube video), or