Space-time is an illusion. So is the notion of finite bodies. It's why, whenever I see you, I ask: 'How's your world?'......because I know we carry infinite worlds inside of us and in one of them, a great spinning star-flung song is trying to wake us up again to the Great Alliance that binds us.

Stop spinning on your busy wheel of pain long enough to hear this: You are not outside the fold of your original preciousness. Even the dawn-bird is heralding this truth each morning, singing to you a map-song with coordinates leading to your renewal.

My deepest wish for you is that the deepest parts of you can one day put down the battle and let yourself truly be held in a cradle of loving sunlight.

The soul is not a land-locked entity. It can grow feathers.

There is something bittersweet about letting go; about parting from anyone or anything that holds memory.But it is Spring. The weather is nice outside tonight. I put my writing utensils away for the rest of the season and take back up the old practices of the Forest-Sitting Religion.

Heart-Mind, left to its natural state, is vast as a panorama of Nature.

There is a way of entering the forest when the breeze of the trees becomes your guide...there is a way of approaching the self without a heavy-hand, when the heart-mind slowly becomes unburdened by the past, where the body listening with the whole of itself finally becomes attuned to all the subtle happenings in the realm not yet stained by the faithless world of man.

Make the sunrise a temple.

There is a Great Story that binds us all together and it's not the one any of us grew up with.