How can they thrive in me at the same time?!?  I must be human.  One minute meditating on the brilliance of a pure bright daffodil, the next wanting to scream at someone’s incessant coughing.  Here sitting in a wake of spiritual reading, there fighting obscure corporate politics.

What were we thinking to combine dirt with such lofty angelic hearts?  Why did we jump at the chance of life with the sure ending of death?  How is this the adventure we sought as bored angels? 

Dunno.

But surely I need to make the best of it, as sitting in the fear of endings, the worry of pain, the negative anticipation of loss is just simply not enjoyable.  There are just too many daffodils.