This is how a heart keeps beating. This is how a life keeps living. This is how the seasons keep changing, shifting, tilting and swerving, sifting and lifting each facade up to the next. The illusion of green, the illusion of yellow and orange, the illusion of white. Which season is the truth? The complex bundle of changing reality- mutable identity, fluid manifestation. The fumbling truth of a world that breathes. Heaves, leaves and comes back. The wild, incomprehensible truth of a world that spins on its own axis. Revitalizes and deconstructs. Erodes and creates. Warms and cools, fades and glistens in its own section of outer space. In its own section of inner space. In its own space of grace and with its own courage to race itself towards the center of a circle. Towards the circumference of a perimeter. Towards the orbit of language. Consciousness. Heart. Faith. Mind. This is the space called ours. This is the planet called home. And it grows and weaves and tumbles and reacts. This planet reacts. Responds. Renews. And will not surrender to our abuse. This planet will respond. This planet will react.

And we, little ones, little ones. Little fields of mind, big swaths of collective consciousness, tiny hands of feeble concepts, warm radiation fresh in our bodies. We will keep hunting. Hunters that we are- we will keep gathering. And if we want to save ourselves, we will let go. We will surrender. We will give in and we will give back. We will get back. To that true heart that used to beat inside of our shallow chests. To those primal cues still laced inside our neurons. We will remember. If we want to survive, we will remember. The truest honesty of the season that says – it’s time to let the dead things go. For everything there is a season. For the harvest we must have slumber. For the green we must have white. For the grace of all our glittering serpentine screens we must have silence too. For the whimsy of our wheels we must have windless waiting too. For the fire of our muskets we must have water of replenishment. We must mend scars. We must complete cycles. We must burn away the dead tissue. We must take only what we need. We must give all that we can. We must tread lightly. Live reverently. Follow peacefully. Search meaningfully. Honor graciously. Fight nobly. Tend lovingly. Discover humbly. Race patiently. Give endlessly. March proudly. Through the uncertain days of time that tick towards us. We must surrender to that deepest wisdom that we know nothing. We must aspire wildly to that endless acquisition to know anything. To learn deeply. To feel profoundly. To trust boldly. And above and below all things – to love fearlessly.

To start at the beginning and wheel backwards. To ground ourselves 9 feet deep and one foot in front of the other.  

The whole of the whole inside the hole.