It seems absurd to me that this is the only “reality” or “dimension” of life.  Nature is constantly transforming.  A caterpillar is cocooned into DNA mush and comes out a new being fluttering and flying away.  Dreams at night and when heart breathing stops for minutes at a time reveal something beyond the transparent wall of these simple senses.

Thus these days I reach beyond the gossamer fabric and touch the face of my mother, my father and my grandmothers.  “Hello there!  Someone is on their way to your side, please greet her.”  This grandmother now faltering with consciousness, skin raw with sores, joints stiff for years, bacteria raging through her organs–is ready to be born again on whatever side there is.

Since belief is an inside job, and proof of heaven, hell and gods are relative, I indulge in the wonderful world beyond and within me.  Breathing in the Presence of Paradise, resting in the soft sofa of Hugging Arms, all is safe, all is easy, all is love.