It’s clear today, blue sky a silent lake with only the occasional silver shine of an airplane skimming into SFO to land.
I’m with two quotes this morning, two ways of unfolding the origami swan of being.
One is a Navajo proverb. Be still and the earth will speak to you.
Responding, I listen to trees, birds, flowers, squirrels, worms, earth.
Butterflies wing silently; bees buzz and dip.
I circle on the words of Zen Master Suzuki Roshi.
What we call I is just a swinging door which moves when we inhale and when we exhale.
I’m on a merry-go-round, the earth, of course, and I’m a child swinging on a gate, a door, and I’m honoring what circulates inside my skin as well as out. This place, a heart.