Making Conversation

First, we rise.  Rise from the altar of our own life, from castaway dreams of feathers, bones, seashells.

Next, we look around.  We see in color.  Just one is astonishing enough, but a whole multitude?  It’s like laughter, transforming an ordinary room into a temple of healing.

Then, we move.  We ask questions, fan the flickering flame of the great mystery, demand answers that will only elude us, turning into more questions in a self-fulfilling prophecy of conceptual thinking, pushing that which transcends all thinking ever-further away.

Finally, we hunger thirst create destroy, come alive.  Snip the bindings of our limitations. Turn over the stone of what is not true to discover what is possible after a little chiseling away at its opposite face.  We are dissolving boundaries, tracing fault lines.  We are someplace extraordinary.  We are traveling without maps, making conversation with synchronicity. 

Begin now, if you haven’t already: sleep and awakening are coming for us, the embroidery and the unraveling, the shaken and the unshakeable, the broken and unbreakable.

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