The philosophers and metaphysicians have been wrestling with this idea for ever.  The mystics laugh and play with it.  This up and down emotional travel that us humans feel.  I can’t speak for the aliens or crop circle artists (if any of you are reading this–feel free to send me a note). 

But we feel up, we feel down, we get bored, we get excited, we are enlightened…and then we go back to doing the dishes and cleaning clothes, cheering accomplishments and weeping in sadness.

A violent tragic multiple murder sets me off.  It’s supposed to, I guess.  Recognizing the spirit beneath the material world, I believe there is a deeper meaning to this shock and loss.  Perhaps to remind us to cherish simple beauty, sit under gray skies in comfort, and just be cozy in bed for one more minute with our honey bear love.

It doesn’t matter to me if there is any god or heaven in the beyond.  I choose to believe there is, because it reminds me at least half the time, that I can decide to lean on the love today.  I can reach out for a blossom and stay in that moment.  I claim the touch of Divine Love at my cheek to last forever.