We went out to walk this morning and the stars were bright, the constellations clear. A month ago it would have been light.
I learned of a death yesterday and two people in the hospital, one who is 90 and the other 99.
There is pain for all involved, pain of transition, pain of letting go.
What is this thing called life? How do we assimilate and release? We do it every day. We eat, absorb, eliminate, and yet, ...
How do we accustom ourselves to what may be a further birthing when it looks so much like death, and why do we fear death when we live where leaves fall and trees are bare and then again they hold a lantern of leaves.
At times, I notice each portal I pass through, observe as I walk through a door in my home, pause right there between rooms.
May we each be present today for what presents.
life is a garden,
not a road
we enter and exit
through the same gate
where we go matters less
than what we notice
~ Bokonon ~
(The Lost Book)