Sometimes–ha–most times–I lose perspective.  Doing has been such a definer of my identity that when in doubt of myself, I do something.  Then I go into the belief of the invisible and do nothing for nobody and seem to indulge in the low doing, like sitting, reading and putzing

They say the Tao is about being at peace with the nothingness.  I am a human and my feelings are part of this earth.  I cry at the death of a century-old tree at the end of my street.  The geography of my emotional life has been changed forever.  I am perplexed at the mystery of companionship.  I resist the tiring routine of rising for work.

These are the times that I indulge in my belief, my choice, my respite of loving the Divine.  the essence beneath the trees, river and even the statue of Kwan Yin on my table.  She who stirs the Tao from nothing to something and back again.  I lean on Her as I love myself in the mystery.