It is fascinating how we wrestle with the invisible here.  Wanting to rip the “veil”, dancing with shadows, picking at my feet.  What a fascinating existence to know that most of what exists is empty space.  All solid form is really infinitesimal particles of dervishes swirling around universes of nothing.

Or is it nothing?  This is the joke of ALL That Is, that nothing is everything and other “things” is nothing.  So we make up stories.  At least that’s one way to see it.  Stories about working for a living, eating, breathing and sorrow at death.  Tall tales of drunken escapades, bad marriages and hilarious road trips.

I really do believe today that human life is about stories–yours and mine can be so vastly different.  Today I endeavor my story to be about easy service at my job, comfortable listening to those who sit with me, and endless dreams of the Divine One whispering at my shoulder, touching my hair, and making me laugh.