Here, in the light of divine destitution

Is the perfect unfolding of beloved restitution…

She is carried away by the Angel of Death

like a whisper from Life’s lips.

And immediately, you know,

she is not really gone.

When an animal, for instance, experiences physical discomfort, there is no suffering, no pain — because there is no story that something should be different than it is. There is simply the experience of the physical discomfort. Humans, on the other hand, are another matter…

Fear and shadows, restless gallows,

your head is on the block.

Freedom within will only open

to that One who knocks….

It’s easy to think that your body is YOU, that YOU are in the driver’s seat, until you eat some bad fish, or until you haven’t slept in three days. Then it becomes obvious that you are simply a servant of this physical form. You are a witness, not a participant…

I realized quickly that life had placed a unique opportunity before me. So I sat with my new raccoon friend, watching as life’s grip slowly loosened him from her tentacled clutches…

Whoever erected this gate evidently wanted nobody to walk through it, and she knew right then at her first sighting of it that she had to, that she must, find a way in — to discover what was surely a great secret waiting on the other side…

A hollow bone

An empty soul

Between the stories lie….

“Memento Mori,” life whispers slowly

To point me to what’s true….

Who are you? Are you your weight? Are you your age? How about your height? Your body type? Your shoe size? The mole on your skin? Are you the shape of your nose?

Or is the truth of you something deeper?