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The Gentle Hand

In the most violent of episodes, there are subtleties at play. In the most calm and serene, life itself emerges. We exist in the interplay of forces, big and small; we are the stars and the stardust. Big bang indeed…

Living with presence is letting go of any concerns with time, and the here and there. But the present tense is fraught with disintegration; until we complete each episode and allow for (en)closure of aspects of us lingering in limbo, or caged out of sequence, we weigh it down and muddy the motion.

Life will not allow us to idle, not without significant effort and pain. Regardless of the resistors we adapt and employ, the resistance is not our raison d’être, though that isn’t the motto of industry and commerce.

When those who in their glass corridors and concreted lofts can simply manipulate the odds; create no thing; contribute no art, and make unlimited monies from nowhere, those who labor, toil, tinker, research, test, compose, paint, sculpt, and script, are devalued and disrespected.

Yet, it is those who have the grit to employ, to heed the gentle hand — and not simply to survive but to engage their magnificence — who build this world. If they can at once foster their child, they can teach the species about authenticity; if they can follow that dream, they can demonstrate imagination, and character — not simply fantasy and ideal.

The gentle hand is “yes”: it emboldens us to reach in for the kiss, to reach out for a hand, to write the book, to paint the sky. It lifts our chin when we fall, and lifts it when we fall again. It engenders our many “mistakes” and invites us to make more. It — our greater self, our knowing, our source-field instigator — is impartial, yet absolutely FOR us.

Whatever form or function we came to serve, this place is accommodation for the omnifarious; we will always shine brightest in our own skin, for there are infinite shades of lightness.

Just listen, learn, dare, and dive in.

Solvitur ambulando
Love your life

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