That seems to be the story of a confusing life–I’m not present to it, but I walk around and make noise as if I am here.  Well illustrated by the fact that I’ve been pretty regular writing in this blog, but for months I’ve been offline.  Website not renewed and I am truly talking to myself.  It’s a small audience, and it did feel alone in this vast amphitheater of self chatter.

I yearn to breathe deep and slow today.  I claim to be filled with the gift of kindness to myself especially.  I intend to see how the teeter totter of instincts can so easily, with a look, be thrown out of balance.  Like a small child I can quickly fall hard on the sand, terrified of embarrassment, being wrong, looking stupid and being hurt.

Nothing can hurt me as I am a child of the universe.  This is a playground, not a torture chamber.  The trees remind me of my decision to be true to myself in such a distracting environment.  I am rooted in pure Presence.  I breathe brilliant sweet air of here and now.  My branches dance with the wind of yes.