I’m looking out at a different view today.  California sun, Eucalyptus trees, gnarly ocean-side oaks.  traffic.  Sun.

The mind is a marvelous organ.  and just chatters a bit now and again.  Creates turmoil and swirls up flotsam and jetsam all clamoring for attention.

I claim stillness.

Pema talks about the art of living in the crossroads of the path–in ambiguity and puzzlement.  That tis is the heart of the matter–being comfortable with that insecurity, curiously gentle, growing in self- and other-love.

I bow to my angst, up and down to beauty and love.