The fog is entertaining this morning, is at play as mist, and then, it thickens. I'm watching a magic act, or does that trivialize it? I am watching an unfolding, an invitation, a massage of being.
The morning has brought me the concerns of a great many friends. Some of them relate to care of the elderly. When do we let go?
I don't know the answers, but somehow I think they may be found in whatever is inspiring this dance of mist. One part disappears and another part appears.
On Sunday, the clouds arranged so that the hills were the top of a heart and I was the point. Today, I feel the mist drawing me out. Come here and play. Come out, and all my cells stand at attention, like cats at a window watching a bird or squirrel. What's out there?
I request prayers for all those on the planet who are in pain today, request expansion of the container that holds their pain. May we all drink from the veil, the mist, the light. May we all know purpose and care.