I wake and rise. The moon shining along the wood floors invites me to receive its beams outside.  I come back in and sit as light streams into the room and the moon appears to move across the sky.

When I was going through chemotherapy and radiation my friend Jane and I spoke every morning and then wrote.  The book Breast Strokes came from our talks and my posts on my Live Journal blog.

Because Jane spent the first three months of this year at Tassajara Zen Center, today was the first time we touched voices in almost four months. Handwriting back and forth was our form of touch. When we spoke at 6 this morning, we watched the movement of the moon from different sides of the bay. We spoke of touch, the ground of being, touch, an honoring, each day, earth day.

I’ve been going through photos for my brother’s memorial.  My tears are sweeter now, softer. There is sadness at times, a piercing, but the piercing is a puncturing as though my heart will one day be completely open to flow, no blocks or rocks in the stream, though Carl Perkins says the rocks in the stream make the song. Perhaps my song will come to silence, vibration so widely spread, it will be a blanket of calm.

This photo in particular strikes me because though we thought, at the time, we were adults, we were young with so much before us, and that continues for me, and I believe for him too.  He has simply changed form but perhaps he is more accessible this way. I feel him close as though I’m absorbing his essence, and in doing so, augmenting my own.

I continue to feel a deepening, widening, more substantial connection to what I call Source, and some call Nature, and others call God.

I was married in 1971.  My brother walked me down the aisle because our father died in 1969.  I was 21 and my brother not yet 18. Perhaps we walk a different aisle now, or maybe all aisles are one.

My brother walking me down the aisle in 1971

4 thoughts on “Day 9 – Earth Day

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