A quiet mind is not always a still one. As I sit close to the campfire~ stillness and movement play like children within. Long sighs accompany the dark and light. The sizzling and crackling is a perfect accompaniment to the dance of the neon flame and the wind in the trees. All the while the river rushes, going somewhere. In this moment it all seems necessary.
Two words surface, poignant and divine.
And just above the flame, the heat distorts as if I’m looking at an underwater world. I lean my head back to look up, and watch the stars moving in and out of view as the tree branch overhead sways back and forth, back and forth, nurturing and protecting. I hear the muffled voices and the strum of a guitar. My knees are warm, but my back is cold. All of this reminding me of my humanity and how I am divided, always present yet always emerging.
The physical carries me emotionally, mentally and spiritually. I know it’s an experience to live, and in the living and telling, the story is stamped into my memory like a passport book being filled with adventure and richness. The flames lick higher and higher, pointing my gaze upward to consider great mysteries,
-where every moment is forever, timeless and formless
-where nothing that IS can ever be taken away.