It’s a question of mind over matter, and if you don’t have a mind, it really doesn’t matter.

That is such a Truth.  It is the mind that plagues a perfectly good morning with worry.  Missing persons, cryptic phrases, the unknown.  Whether the past or future, the mind takes all fantastic ideas of catastrophe and, like a bad fairy godmother, dresses it up in scary vampire clothes, ready to suck the blood out of me at any second I swoon.

Amazing how the mind makes up stories that seem so real based on NOTHING.  You’d think [sic] that with all that imagination we’d be swimming in fabulous inventions of ease, comfort and goodness.  Well, I suppose we are.  And then there are those mornings that just hit sideways.

I make up a new story today.  Today the green is smiling just for me.  The grandmother cedars await for me this weekend along the river.  I hear them whisper in the wind–“Stand.  And sway.  Stand.  And sway.”  I am rooted forever in Gaia, not in made-up memories of future fears.  My faith in being held–in all of us being embraced–in Eternal Good is the sun that never leaves the sky.  No matter the clouds, the steadfast Earth and warm love Sun of You are the essence of my presence.