The fog is in this morning, the air damp with kisses. I was offered only one quick glimpse of the moon last night and then it was wrapped as though in precious cloth. I saw one star. It was more than enough.
I played with Zach yesterday. We played Pooh and Piglet. I was Pooh and he was Piglet and he picked up all the toys. I saw how Zach takes everything in, like children do. We need to be conscious of every action and word. What we give is received, and this is most likely true with everyone, and yet, we don't always acknowledge. Today I set intention to do so.
I spoke with a friend yesterday who just returned from almost a month in Africa. When she said she was voting for Barack Obama, they said but he is not of your tribe. They are very tribal there, marry within their tribe. As we know, women are not well-treated. We sat on a hill overlooking the bay and realized again how blessed we are to live where we are well-treated, all of us, and recognized the strides that have been made. I think it is time to focus there.
I read that the comedians are struggling with Barack Obama. He is not a buffoon, and the audience does not want him made fun of. They don't want to laugh at him. I see we are ready for a leader, ready for another jump. Men and women are equal and valued in this country. Each child matters. Tribes are dissolving as our children intermarry in all sorts of ways. All of this is taking us to a new place, and we are making progress. Today, I honor the steps that have been made through the work of so many , through each of us, since each breath fuels what speaks in the world. Today, peace, understanding, compassion. May that be the fuel of my breath - peace, understanding, compassion.
This morning I stayed in bed and felt myself as a violin, made by Stradivari, as long as I'm dreaming, and I was being played, life as easy as that.
Here is the wisdom of Hafiz to guide the day. May today be one where we work with Love.
Time is the shop
Where everyone works hard
To break the
Wanting to meet Her.
A little differently:
They can use more feeling and skill
With the heart-lute.
Apparent chaos, and suffering I now know happen
In the Splendid Unison:
The same thigh.
At a juncture in this poem.
There are a thousand new wheels I could craft
On a wagon
And place you in -
Lead you to a glimpse of the culture
And seasons in another dimension.
Will have to drop you back at the shop
Where you still have work