Yesterday I was looking for validity–love.  Today I feel ungood, so the chant is: I am good.  I see only good.  I do only good.  I breathe only good.  I hear only good.  I see only good.

Even being a “circulation” of good can get me stuck in this badminton game of duality.  I wrestle with the old human belief that “If I was good, I’d feel good.  So if I don’t feel good, I must not be good.”  Clear illogic never deters the negative protective fearful monkey brain ready to throw shit at itself into illusionary solutions of isolation and despair, thus perfectly fulfilling the prophecy of doom.

As always, nature reminds me of my folly.  Sweet acrid smell of spring sage.  Green butterfly leaves popping out of the poplars.  Green fields so brief that soon will yield to golden sun catchers.

I allow the sadness that cannot be understood to move through me.  Circulation of salt water through my salt blood body.  Allowing the seed casing of the hibernation to break open for the magical mystery of tomorrow.