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Intermittent Flow

When I step back now and again from the doing and simply observe, the set pieces are taking shape, the players are confident through etheric rehearsal, and the song is nearly singing itself.

This grand play undoubtedly requires the absolute depth of me, and the tighter I try to grasp the handle, the looser my grip.

The play, in its entirety, is the thing — not just one prop, one set, one mistake, one missed or blessed moment, but all of them.

Nothing has meaning save the meaning we give it, yet it is meaningless without the richness and fullness of every iota of living and breathing that preceded it; to discount, deny, disregard anything of our extraordinary journey is to shortchange the heartfelt gratitude we proclaim to engender when in joyful ease and hard-won presence…

We may appear to age, and grow, to progress and achieve; we may believe life will continue with or without us, but try to imagine non-existence… My words are nothing without you.

“Now” is the ever-changeable, ever-formulating locus of all-that-is and it cares not for determined attempts at logical or literal definition; all the maths and physics and spirits inevitably return to one…

Through presence and authenticity is achieved the flow, even if at times it’s intermittent. Self-judgment is moot. Let go and let love permeate the hard places, and fortify the soft.

We’re well into the second act, presumably. Bring up the lights. This upcoming scene is life-changing…

Solvitur ambulando