I’m both fuzzy and clear this morning. My sense is that I’m wrapped in a cocoon and there’s clarity in the cocoon, well, not clarity so much as trust, that this is a momentary resting place where I dismantle, dissolve, and reassemble, honoring presence along the way.
I sit with fear, fear that one could go to a shopping mall and be shot, and I know in truth that something can always happen, so this fear is irrational, and yet it’s there. And I go even further with my scenario. Would I be the one killed, injured, or the one left behind, and what does any of that mean in terms of my living, being, doing, this moment, this day?
I can make myself crazy or I can honor that we never know and so it is to be present, present, present, and in this moment, I’m happily ensconced in a cocoon of some semblance of a body, and some wrapping of a home that’s surrounded by plants I care for as they care for me.
Breath moves in and out. I am the sea.