Well, this is one magnificent storm billowing out my windows. And the summer is swelling around my house and banging at my windows and flashing through these tiny, late hours of the night. And Jamie is curled on my chest. And sometimes he is so sweet I think I might just melt into a thousand tiny pieces.

That place beyond words. That is where everything happens. The place where music lives, and magic and mystery and all those poems in the silence. That place that moves faster than thought, deeper than words, and is meaning itself. That place beyond words where the abstract lives. That is where I feel at home. That is where everything good and rich and true happens. Where the music is.

And life is only beautiful, magical, meaningful BECAUSE we are trapped in these tiny, fragile, subjective bodies. To see the whole of the whole of the whole and to hear all the words at once and to understand their meaning would rid the world of poetry. And to understand any objective truth would devoid these small, subjective lives of meaning. But we get these blinders on and our eyes can only see in front of our heads and our brains can only carry so many tiny, fragmented memories and then the context, oh the gorgeous context. And then the meaning comes. And the magic and the meaning and the mayhem of life. So thank you for this strange concoction of a body I am trapped in. This veil through which I can see all things anew. The small, unremembering brain of Jamie creates the most wondrous context for him. And all things are new. And all things are fascinating and worth everything in the world. And he can hardly stand to go to sleep because he wants to devour the world with his eyes and his ears. And what a strange gift we keep getting. To forget the world, start over, and see everything anew again.

But that wordless place we come from….where are there are no more words left, or no more words yet, or no more words needed…that is a beautiful place I am always longing to go as well.

I wish we could really approach life like that. With wide open arms towards that glorious mystery at the end. With loving anticipation of that release. Of forgetting and remembering everything. Of falling back into that music at the heart of things. Of flying back out into the wind and flowing back through the rivers. Back to that place we all are. All of the ancestors are everywhere, perhaps, watching through every tree, through every blade of grass. But not death…no, I don’t believe in death. And I don’t believe in heaven. I believe in a mystery far grander than anything we could imagine with our silly minds. I can feel some deeper music that calls from the beginning and the end and I think I cannot even imagine how my consciousness would transform. Probably just dissolve like light, but I don’t presume to have any idea. I can just feel that it is good. Beyond the word good. Beyond the word bad. It is just a song that keeps singing and a wind that keeps dancing. And in the flow of water – there is everything. Life, death, ancestor, birth. Everyone is so much nearer and so much farther than we can imagine. And consciousness is such a silly thing to be worried about lasting. The collective consciousness…maybe every thought we have is always carried, every impulse, ever minute belief and wish and poem of our mind is imprinted on the everlasting, universal pool of consciousness we all draw from. That place where all words come from. Where all thoughts meander into our minds. Maybe. Maybe there are a thousand ways of imagining it and they all still pale in comparison to what the great mystery actually is. All I can feel, with my truest heart, is that it is love. And nothing to fear. And everything to be joyous and celebratory about. It is pure freedom. Finally able to fly. Back to the universal, back to the light. If I try to think about Kristey, that’s what I feel. And I forgot the anniversary of her death this year, which was August 1. It’s always a beautiful day and I always feel close to the pulse of that song which is never ending. And it always gives me something stronger than hope. More concrete than happiness. It is that sense of being connected to what is hiding under the veil, to what is flowing through the river, to what is shining in the sun’s rays. It is that reality deeper than reality that is flowing everywhere. And death just brings us deeper. Just brings us closer. And that is something I am grateful for. And that is something I wish the world would see. There is no fear in love. There is no fear in death.

I would never trade anything for being able to sleep with Jamie. It is just the sweetest and most rewarding experience of my life. He is such a magnificent boy all curled up in the darkness with his tiny chest bounding up and down. Today I stood on the canal holding him in my arms and just wished I could just keep this moment. Just keep this one tiny moment. His soft hair just under my chin and the August air just casting all the plants into a dreamy fervor and swarming through the water below my feet…just dancing along, just dancing along. And this little one still tiny enough to be in my arms. But he’s starting to get too big now and I’m not ready for that. But he’s holding on tightly, wrapping his legs around my waist and wrapping his sweet little arms around my neck and trying to bury his head in my neck or rest it on my shoulder just so. And it breaks my heart into a thousand windless pieces and it just makes me dissolve into this love I never knew was coming for me. I never knew all this time I was searching for this. And that it would last for so long and for so short. A small eternity tucked into a tiny slice of a year. And I am beyond grateful for it. And it is beyond enough. More love and more blessings than few ever get. And so I have to say thank you, it is enough. I cannot ask for anything more from this world. The universe has given me more than I could ever ask for. I just have to keep myself in gratitude. Keep finding that never-ending gratitude that swells around me and makes me whole. Just keep bringing myself into that light.

So thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you. Grateful is the place where I want to dwell. And fearless.


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