Why is it that we cry at change–so-called unfortunate change?  Death, trauma, loss.  I suppose we cry at weddings and births too–what is that salt water leakage all about?

My mom says, from the other side, that we cry because we love, that’s how humans do it.  I like that story.  Loss appears to be abandonment and disappearance of love, affection, companionship, routine of safety.  Maybe it’s human love looking for an object.  Spirit has no objects, materially speaking, and love of Spirit necessarily, it seems to me, is about love above objects, love beyond things.  Which, to me anyway, is a continual practice because “things” are hypnotically believable.

These days I appreciate the earth, and given a chance to leave it, would probably beg for more time.  No wonder my dog is so stubborn to stiffly walk, like on stilts hold himself to bend and sniff that wonderous scent one more time.  I guess I’d do the same.  The colors, the smells, the changes, the seasons, the faces, the objects to love.

I love that I am gifted with these fingers, this antenna of a heart to trap the tiniest glimpses of the bursting fireworks magnificence of the Divine.