Yesterday my friend Elaine who is a sports fan, specifically a Warriors fan, taught me something new, a sports term, GOAT, Greatest of All Time.

I considered how I’ve never had a desire to be the greatest of all time, and I came up with my own: JOBM – Joy of Being Me.

As she took delight in JOBM, I came up with another: JOBU – Joy of Being Us, because, after all, we are intertwined.

This morning I woke from a vivid dream.  I was holding a baby boy, a beautiful baby boy, and then, he was a toddler, and we were learning together.  Then, we ate sushi. I don’t know how to interpret the sushi part though I do love sushi, but what I felt at first, and what I’ve been feeling is that my grandson, who is still in the womb of his mother, communicates with me though dreams.  This is not the first, but then, I thought, perhaps it is my brother reborn, but it is only the 53th day since his passing and that would be a quick transition, so then, I remembered we’re everyone in our dream. The baby is me. Each day, each moment, we reincarnate; we are reborn.

I lay in bed this morning feeling like phyllo dough, folded and coated with butter, and folded and coated over and over again.

My heart is huge with JOBB – Joy of Being Born, knowing that though my brother was born in 1953, and I in 1949, we’re continually being born.   

Bowl at Slide Ranch
My Garden Om



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