One day when the electricity was off, and my “to-do” list gently closed, I sat on the couch with tears – just tears – no story – a cleansing, tender with grief – ah, maybe there was a story – grief for the Kurds and for a country with tremendous wealth deserting an ally, and then, grief.

Today I felt moisture arrive again, simple moisture in my eyes, a caress spreading in my heart.

This morning on a Zoom call this quote by Pema Chodron was offered and shared. You are the sky.  Everything else – it’s just the weather.

One person on the call is working with collage and we imagined the immersion in choosing and manifesting what churns in us now.

On the call, I spoke of what it means to me to sit and watch the ocean, and my friend sent me these words from Herman Hesse in Siddhartha.  

“They both listened silently to the water, which to them was not just water, but the voice of life, the voice of Being, the voice of perpetual Becoming.” 

That might be enough for a day but I was introduced to the music of Don Shirley, which led me to this probe into the movie Green Book.

I just learned that a friend is out of surgery. Time to make chicken soup.

Learning to listen, learning to talk –

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