I put my glasses on and the pink coral hibiscus flowers jump out at me from the wall of tall bushes in the alley.  I see the gentle breeze and steady sunshine now, here in Angel City.

I cling to the ancient chant: I am filled with loving kindness.  I am well.  Reaching roots deep to stay in this crystal moment, stretching into this precious fragile now.

The path is firm and steady, but the view is dizzying.  On one side is the warmth of grown children, in rich relationships, exciting young careers.  On the other side of this still solid walkway yawns a fierce screaming dropoff to a dry scrub canyon of immanent father death, sibling sobs, and impending decisions, honoring the end of a long life, the last parent standing.  (ok, well, he can’t stand any more.)

Back to here and now.  This is the Presence of Grace: a white table, a bright quiet morning, a room filled with photographs of friends and family.  This is my here and now.  I claim the here and now every second of this day.

Divine heart-fullness.  Dancing defies time, here and twirl, now and swirl.