End of summer marks time passing, watching beautiful child grow, almost three now, a blink and an incredible journey.
Each moment presents itself full of glory, fear, pain, love, pleasure, trepidation, as though it is all that ever was, gathering all focus and attention, a storm’s lightning flashing.
And then it is gone. The next moment upon us, waves in the storm surge, unbearable in their intensity or almost unnoticed in their mundanity.
And where are You? We, within this? What are we?
We are not the waves. Are we the shore eroding with each crash? Are we the flower ripped from the bank? The tree nourished by the moisture? The water after it calms?
Where is our attention? On the rock, the plant, the roots, the movement? Or on every single one and ourselves too. All as One.
The watcher and the experiencer, never swept away and deeply touched, dry to the bone and soaking wet in every unfolding moment.
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