The monkey mind keeps dragging the forgetter cap over my head, but there is nothing stronger than Spirit.  No cancer, death, absence, distance, heartache, tragedy or mere geographical escapes can touch the ever-present fragrance of the Spirit.

Sometimes it seems that this wisdom comes in glimpses, flickering between glacial boulders of duty, bills, work and relationship maneuvering.  But the sun never goes away.  Air is always here.  Breathing is a regular routine–and when it isn’t–the lovely bones of trees proclaim the truth of eternity as they melt into the sand that was once a part of that huge rock.

That which I am is always part of the I AM.  Thus there is no nothing, never gone, and death is a giggle.  I just need every day to remind myself.  Thus I have this regular conversation with You, with Her, with Him, with It, with No-Thing.  Just to reach beyond the chattering dinosaur brain and touch the warmth in Her garment that She wraps around me. 

She holds me and rocks me back and forth with a soft giggle in Her lullaby.  As if there was any other unreality.