Thursday, July 7, 2016


When walking alone in nature for long periods of time something wonderful happens.  

The mind, generally so full of it's own diatribe, begins to   s  l  o  w   down and the senses atune to the rhythm of life all around.  

In the trees overhead, an avian fillabuster worthy of parliamant is in full force.  The wind whispers of her ongoing love affair with tree and cloud.  The bees buzz, matchmakers for flowers, busily dancing from bloom to bloom. Squirrels scurry amidst branches, hurriedly racing from perch to perch.  

As the mind settles it's inward churning, a subtle shift takes place.  The listener, as a distinct other, no longer exists.  There is no "me" and nature, there is just T H I S... this grand arising, exactly as it is. The "me" is simply another note played through the unique instrument of self. A note in the vast and  indescribably beautiful symphony of life.  

Monday, July 4, 2016


Since everything is but an apparition
Perfect in being what it is
Having nothing to do
With good or bad
Acceptance or rejection,
One may well burst
In laughter.

14 cent. Tibet
Long Chen Pa

Thursday, June 23, 2016

Open your eyes

"That which I am seeking 
I already am."
Imagine you are standing in the sunlight with eyes squeezed shut looking for the light.
Open your eyes.

This Is It.

When you find the "Doer"
call me.
But I don't expect to hear from you.

"Madness!" you say,
"Of course there is a me."

But have you ever gone looking,
for the paradox in plain view?

It's too immediate to notice,
too simple to believe.

There is no where to go
and no one to get there.


No More Leaving

Some point
Your relationship
With God
Become like this:

Next time you meet Him in the forest
Or on a crowded city street

There won't be anymore


That is,

God will climb into
Your pocket.

You will simply just take



We Might Have To Medicate You

Resist your temptation to lie
By speaking of separation from God,

We might have to medicate

In the ocean
A lot goes on beneath your eyes.

They have clinics there too
For the insane
Who persist in saying things like:

"I am independent from the

God is not always around

Pressing against
My body."


Wednesday, May 18, 2016


Spring is afresh with new life.  Flowers, buds, sprouts... the world all around is painted in brilliant hues and I am basking in the view.

Saturday, May 7, 2016

a paradox

Life is paradoxical.

Something in the mind wants to control it, to understand, predict, plan and otherwise navigate life with gusto.
In it's effort to stay safe, the mind plans and worries, frets and paces, thinks and judges, moralizes and intellectualizes, but Life is... life.
There is pain and pleasure, unbelievable beauty and unimaginable ugliness, sickness and health, fullness and scarcity.
It's not an oscillating pendulum, forever swinging between dual points of interest, it's paradoxically all of it at once.

We spend years trying to make life safe.  The beautiful irony is that it's not safe and it's not unsafe.  It just is as it is.

Our willingness to be with, and as, that paradoxical truth IS what all the great teachings were pointing to all along.

Tuesday, April 26, 2016

We can't love the rain if we're not willing to get wet

I have noticed something about life... everything changes.

We arbitrarily decide which weather we are meant to have...sunny, playful, loving, stress-free, affirming, fill in the blank... and then we worry about the forecast.  We plan and prepare, we fret and watch for news, for signs, for disaster.


It's gonna rain.
It's gonna storm.
There may be hurricanes and floods, blizzards and tornados.  It's life.  There will be ups and downs.  The kids will drive us nuts and they will surprise us with their brilliance.  People will amaze us and disappoint the holy shit out of us.  Our health will be smooth and it will be rough.  We will laugh our asses off and we will crumble to the floor crying.  There will be birth and there will be death.

It's all here.

We wait for summer to set in and for the clouds of life to disperse forever.  Some of us call it enlightenment, others success.  Some call it the right relationship, others a hefty bank account.

The sun will shine and the birds will sing and the flowers will bloom. It's a fact.  The skies will darken, clouds will storm and the leaves will fall.  It's a fact.

Life is the whole experience and we can't love the rain if we aren't ready to get wet.

Sunday, March 27, 2016



Have you ever noticed that much of our life seems to be spent reaching toward the next moment in a misplaced attempt to escape or appease a persistent feeling of longing?
Instead of sitting tight with the longing itself, we look for an explanation. "I'm not satisfied in this relationship." "I need to find my life's purpose".  "Do I even have a purpose?"  "Maybe if I can just clean up the shit pile from my childhood or get my ass back in therapy." "If I had more money I'd feel safe."  "If I was truly loved I'd know contentment." "If I were enlightened all of this aching and suffering would be replaced with the 'peace that passeth understanding'." 

Longing scares the holy shit out of us.  We run like hell away from NOW.  Where are we going?  Toward the next promised something, in hope of release?  News's another NOW.  It's just longing in a new dress.  

Even once we get that promised relationship, or new house, or bigger pay check or mind blowing spiritual experience, we inevitably come face to face with the evanescent quality of life. Everything is fleeting.  The NOW is constantly changing form.

We could pause here.  It's where we are anyway and there's no actual way of escaping.  (God knows we've tried) But we don't. We blame the relationship, the bills, the job, ourselves or our fleeting taste of enlightenment and seek again.  


Our seeking is our suffering.  Our resistance takes a thousand forms... thinking, worrying, controlling, planning, jaw grinding, contracting, self helping, do-gooding, psycho-babbling...  It all amounts to the same thing. Resistance in disguise.
So let's try something different.

Stop.  Here.  Now.  Make an about face. Greet the longing with open arms.  Scary shit I know but we're braver then we think.  There's really no escape.  We are right here any way.  Right now.
This longing is asking only one thing of you.  
To be met.  
Here nothing is denied. 
So meet it.
This is where all your spiritual practice is pointing.

Longing unmasked is love

And love has taken a thousand disguises and a thousand more, all of them, no matter the appearance, are loves' invitation to love.  

In that passionate embrace even the God's shudder in ecstasy.

Sunday, March 20, 2016


When the topic of meditation arises, I often hear, "I don't meditate", "I've never meditated", " I can't meditate"or "I AM a meditator" which often means, "I sit for x number of minutes every day which makes me subtly superior".  Once upon a time I meditated several hours a day, year after year, quietly sequestered from the hustle and bustle of the world.  Then something changed.  I asked what am I training for?

Meditation, as it's commonly referred to, is a practice composed of mental exercises and some degree of physical control, for the purpose of reaching a heightened state of awareness or a more relaxed condition.  It's easy to make meditation into a destination... an aspiration to attain some conceptual ideal or the means to get there.  Where?  I don't know…there?  Enlightenment? …some preferred future HERE? But meditation is a training tool and not a merit-based-goal earned through time spent sitting like a pretzel contemplating the belly button of the universe.
So what is all the training for?  Have you ever tumbled head over heart into natures beauty, astounded by the intricacies in each detail?  Have you ever laid awake beside your lover and watched the gentle rise and fall of his or her breath?  Have you held a new born baby in your arms and taken in the fresh newness of life with every sense at your disposal? Or become lost in the act of writing, creating, playing, loving and more?
These are all forms of meditation.  Formal meditation practice is meant to strengthen our muscle to be present. It's like learning to play the piano, we practice regularly to improve our playing. The play may be more formal and systematic BUT it's still playing the piano.  The same is true of formal meditation.  We are practicing conscious engagement with life AS IT IS right now.  If the internal landscape is bumpy, we are present and aware of the quality of bumpiness.  If it's blissful and spacious, there is a YES and release into that. Meditation is a no-fail business.  You are just showing up.  When resistance to this moment diminishes, so does the internal noise.  It's not a goal.  It's the natural byproduct of presence.  All the observed benefits of meditation naturally flow from a YES to this moment, as it is and exactly as you are.
And like all practice, meditation IS strengthening our capacity for YES.  After years seated cross-legged and contemplating my navel from every mystical tradition available, I asked the question… What is all of this training for?  And the answer came.  Life.  Living. And the secret of life is... to live it! 100%.  And that YES makes all the difference.

Friday, February 12, 2016

Tripping Over Joy

What is the difference between your experience of Existence and that of a saint?

The saint knows that the spiritual path is a sublime chess game with God and that the Beloved has just made such a Fantastic Move that the saint is now continually tripping over Joy And bursting out in Laughter and saying, “I Surrender!”

Whereas, my dear,
I am afraid you still think
You have a thousand serious moves.”      ― Hāfiz

Wednesday, February 10, 2016

This is it: Seizures and Truth

The whole spiritual search has lost its luster. After a while the enlightenment carrot starts to look like…well… a carrot, no different than any other carrot, the pursuit of another ideal in one form or another. Oneness chasing oneness is another case of conceptual bullshit.  Utter and complete. Every attempt to experience oneness/enlightenment/liberation is a movement away from it and an investment in a false world of conceptual duality.  It just doesn’t matter. Our western conditioned minds, raised on autonomy, the pursuit of happiness and platonic thought, divide body and soul into oppositional constructs, only to provide some arbitrary point of reference.

Today, while at work, I had a seizure.  This one was accompanied by hours of disorientation, loss of words, heart fluctuations, dizziness and the typical emotional aftermath.  Hours later, as I sat with the vulnerable uncertainty of life, I realized I am no longer interested in concepts.  I don’t give a damn for the spirituality and matter debate.   I couldn’t begin to care if there is “other” or if the whole show is the creation of a mind intent on separation.  In the final hour does any of that matter?  Does any of that offer peace in the quiet hours when you lay awake before dawn and all pretense of self is suspended?  No.  It’s all noise. 

I breathe.  I need air.  I stand.  I need gravity.  I move.  I need energy.  I eat.  I need all the life forms from which my food comes.  This human body did not evolve in isolation, intellectual or otherwise. I need other as plant, animal, human and more.  It is ludicrous to postulate about spirit AND form.  It’s mental bullshit.  It is all LIFE as ME, as YOU, as air, as earth, as cosmos, as seizure, as heart arrhythmia, as us, as whatever is here.  Right now.  In truth, we don’t know what is going on here; we only know that something is.  That’s the best we can say with any measure of clarity and honesty. 

Given THAT how do we meet THIS moment?  Do we try to adapt it to fit some imagined version of how it should be? Do we try to manifest something else or employ some other resistance to THIS? Do we wonder how a more enlightened version of ourselves would handle it?

I sit, disoriented, dizzy and emotional, offering a tender yes to this, utterly awed by the unresolved, uncertain and unknown nature of life.

The whole liberation thing can by cleared up pretty simply:
This is it.
Love what is. Or don’t.  Doesn’t make a lick of difference.
This is still it.

Wednesday, February 3, 2016

The paradox of self: Intimacy with life

We are, each of us, a paradox, a seemingly senseless combination of contradictions that, when considered in full, prove to be the truest expression of self.  We each try to negotiate our interactions in an effort to cloak our inconsistencies from ourselves and those we love.  How can we be both joyous and sad?  How can we experience deep love and union alongside contraction and separation?  How can we be patient and irritable, tolerant and judgmental, kind and cold?   We crave closeness, belonging and connection but are afraid to be known fully.

My godmother and one of the great loves of my life, recently … I don't even know how to write it…died? (Death is a word meant to point to a mystery beyond anything the mind could comprehend and yet the mind doesn't like inconsistencies.)  She lived a long life as a remarkable being.  In the days and weeks following her death, people remembered her and in their memories she became less and less human and more and more saintly.  She was special AND she was human too. I was blessed to love and know the whole of her, perhaps because she knew and loved the whole of me. That kind of love moves mountains.

When we ignore the paradox of our own humanity we distance ourselves from intimacy.  It is not our perceived greatness that needs the warmth of belonging, it is our weakness, our vulnerability, our inconsistency... our humanness.

Navajo weavers intentionally weave mistakes into their rugs, to remind us that we are not perfect and that Spirit enters through our imperfections.  When we welcome this paradox, in ourselves and others, we open to love and true intimacy on life's terms.

Sunday, January 17, 2016

I don't know…the dance of creation

What is life?  The mind is eager to regurgitate its many "known" and cocky answers to that question.  But they don't hold much water, they leak all over the place and we spend a lot of energy trying to patch them up.  The honest response is, "I don't know".

There is an experience and something being experienced.
There is a sense of an experiencer.

Wisdom rests far less on what is known and far more on the unknown.

Okay, great, nice thought or unsettling thought, but we aren't interested in another philosophy to organize our life around.  That's more of the same.  How on gods green earth do we live in uncertainty?  And not living with uncertainty like living with a rarely seen, and thoroughly disliked house guest who eats all the food in the fridge and pisses on the toilet seat, but like… holy shit the house is gone and the ground is gone and what the holy hell is going on around here…again and again.

It's a bit terrifying really.  But it doesn't need one jot of my energy to make it so.

No matter how much we invest in elaborate buffering beliefs, we don't really know anything beyond what is arising right now and even that is experienced rather than known.

Herein lies the invitation… this moment, exactly as it is and YOU exactly as you are…creation dancing.

Saturday, January 2, 2016

Aunt Bertie

What is death?
I don't know.
It is not what we tend to think it is.  Of that I am certain.

On December 29th, 2015 my beloved god-mother/teacher/sister/friend/kindred spirit/aunt/soul-mate left her body.  Her spirit, always so strong, luminous and buoyant, had simply outgrown the body, like a caterpillar does its cocoon.  I celebrate her transition and my heart selfishly grieves.  I have often noticed when lovers part, that it is the one left who grieves the hardest, surrounded as they are by the reminders of a life created and shared together.  

…Looking through the eyes of my two year old self at a white haired woman so filled with magic and laughter that all the world's petty concerns bow before her.  She talks of fairies and angels and elves when all the adults around me talk of war and money and concern.  Her world and my world…same, same.
…A boom of thunder forces me into bed beside her where we listen to rain and she explains the nature of light and its booming bravado at high speeds.  Suddenly thunderstorms are friendly and full of magic. 
...Parents fight and divorce, a young life in chaos... her arms and home are solid, unwavering and constant.  
...Holidays highlighted by farm home packages wrapped in glittering tissue paper and angels, smelling of home (or musty if you possess less refined olfactory sensibilities).  
...Apprenticing for years alongside her, learning the power of thought, word, feeling and meditation. Immersed in metaphysics, astrology, angels, ascended masters and more until those no longer satisfy. Then she smiles knowingly and says, "This has been my path Angelina. Yours will take you higher my bright and shining one!", certain as she always was that I was destined for soul greatness.  

She has been my north star, my constant, and I have always been her beloved Angelina.  She told me she would not leave until I was ready.  She waited.  And when my life bloomed into fullness, I was ready and the butterfly took flight. 

I feel her now, as I write, her arms around me in an embrace so wide that all the universe dances in her love.  Light waves of grief thunder across the sky of my love, but I'm not afraid.  The salty tears, like rain, cascade down the windows of my heart, not because she is gone but because the little girl who lives in me still, can never again climb into bed beside her and feel the warmth of her body as we listen, together, for the heart beat of the world.

I love you Aunt Bertie, beyond time and space, beyond thought and belief.  There aren't words sufficient to express my gratitude and so I will do, what I have always done,  I will shine.  I will love.  I will live and I will continue to see through spirit eyes… a world luminous and full of love. 

And I will always be your bright and shining one.

Friday, January 1, 2016


The first day of the new year has a peculiar effect on me.
While people busy themselves with resolutions born from holiday excess, I ruminate on the nature of time.  I know we all live by it and yet complicit agreement doesn't make it so. Time is a human contrivance and convenience and although it may be necessary for practical purposes, our reliance on it obscures a genuine engagement with the uncertainty and robust vulnerability inherent in this moment, and this one, and this one, ad infinitum.
Sitting on a chair worn from the weight of countless asses and working at a porcelain table whose dings and dents describe meals and gatherings, I inhale the sweet scent of white lilies, a gesture of love from my treasured mate and peer through glass at a snow covered yard hiding countless spring flowers yet to emerge. I breathe, I live, I am.  And the grand joke is that all off it…the grand sum total of life… offers up a singular invitation, in infinite forms, that you can only hear in this moment and this one and this one, ad infinitum.
For a moment, no more, drop past and future and meet life in all it's immediacy, as it is, with the full weight of what you are IN THIS MOMENT.  The only moment there ever is.  In the face of that…what is there to resolve?
Happy New Year again and again, until the end of time.

Sunday, November 15, 2015

Creation and Fly fishing

From the bank of a river I watched my partner fly fishing with the fluid movements and rhythmic motions of a longtime fisherman.  I realized then, that he was meditating with eyes open, fully present and aware.  Amidst the cadence of water flowing over well worn stones and the soft whir of a rod in motion, I understood fly fishing as an ideal metaphor for conscious creation.  In fly fishing, the weight of the line carries the fly to the fish. In manifestation, the weight of our focus carries our intention to the field of infinite possibility.  In fly fishing, the fly rod and line (and thus the fly) go in the direction that the rod tip is pointed during the cast.  Similarly when we create, it’s the clarity of our focus that determines the aim of our intention. 

Attention is flexible, giving us the ability to focus the mind or soften and widen it. When we center our attention on what we want and feel it in real time, NOW, we are building the energy and frequency necessary to match and meet the experience.  We are not asking for something we don’t already have.  We are saying yes to this moment, affirming the reality of this particular possibility with focused clarity and full commitment.  Once deeply felt and experienced, the cast is released into the creative field where all possibilities exist. In fly fishing this is called stroking and stopping and is the key to a good fly cast.  The stroke is the bending of the rod which focuses the energy of the cast.  The stop releases the energy. Once released, the aim carries the fly to it’s intended destination.  Similarly as we let go we allow our attention to widen into surrender.  We rest back and trust the water to carry the intention to it’s target.  The catch is contained in the cast.  What connects the two is presence and surrender.  If in the drift phase, we doubt and question and lift the hook from the water too soon, we have created interference in the signals and will receive mixed or muddy signals in return…no fish. 

The surrendered release is as vital as the clear cast. The catch takes care of itself.  Our only job is to remain present and focused here and NOW to receive, in unexpected ways, from a depth of life that we never imagined when we first set our hook on the water.

Saturday, October 3, 2015

ghost in the mirror

I had a conversation with a dear friend about the limiting views we have of ourselves and the voice in our heads that serves no purpose other than to perpetuate the past and our outmoded perceptions and beliefs.  

I had obviously trespassed too far into bliss and the mind needed to assert itself with alacrity and gusto.  I spent several days grappling with the unpredictability of this body and wrestling with the fierce demon of dysmorphia that assured me in no uncertain terms that I was horribly unattractive, flawed and therefore unlovable.  I knew, as I often know, that the voice was just a symptom of pain arising and nothing more.  The shadows don't need my stalwart efforts to shove them back into the recesses of unconsciousness, rather they are arising in order that they might meet with the full weight of my love and fade in the light of my awareness...but holy hell the ghosts in the mirror can be terrifying in all their pomp and circumstance.  It's laughable when we get enough perspective and can look honestly at the whole show.  Seriously, who let that voice in and why on earth do we devote so much energy trying to convince it that it's wrong?  The nonsense our mental chatter churns out isn't something I would ever say aloud to anyone...ever.  Honestly, I don't even identify with its verbiage.  That's when the effort to fight it stops.  It just doesn't warrant one more instant of attention.  No matter how it catastrophizes, terrorizes, plans, worries, controls and's really not necessary... it's just background noise in the wide expanse of being that we are.  

If I'm not beautiful... So what.  If I'm flawed... So what.  If I'm unlovable... So what.  When the worst it has to offer is seen for what it is... ghosts parading as real... and it's fully realized that nothing can take from us the essence of what we are, then it has no more power to harness our attention and the ghosts in the mirror are gone.

Friday, October 2, 2015


Sometimes life gives you wide vistas and sometimes small gems, but all of it, no matter how ordinary or sublime, is an expansive invitation into this beautiful moment… a gentle mirror (or occasionally a slap in the jaw) reminding us, in a million subtle and bombastic ways, that we are the capacity to experience it all.
Now that is something to be grateful for.

Wednesday, September 16, 2015

God seeds

We are all God seeds.  Cells in the infinite body of consciousness.  Not separate and apart from that which we are but intimately one with all life everywhere.  In the dream of separation we float in the great waters of truth but imagine a ME separate and apart, longing for more, longing for other, longing to wake up, longing for home.  Not knowing, in all our reaching and contriving, controling and predicting, that the me so intent on waking, never wakes up.  It is awakened from.  Not in some violent transcendence of self, but in the same innocent, eye (I) open, waking from sleep.

Tuesday, September 15, 2015


At some point, along every great journey, we come to see that it is not the destination that matters but every step along the way.  We remember that there is no "path", no grand design sprinkled with glitter  and marked by a giant neon sign announcing "my purpose this way". We lay down our path by walking.
Seeking, with all its incumbent strategies of fortune and fame, youth and vigor, me and mine, meditation and austerity, enlightenment and greatness, is simply a distraction from this one and only Now.  It's a subtle aggression against our life, as it is, in this moment.  It isn't another something to be overcome.  That would require a great deal of tilting at windmills with Quixote inspired absurdity. No. When we see this moment as it is, complete with it's vulnerability, uncertainties, unknown variables and obtuse horizons, we arrive in the only place we can ever truly call home.


Saturday, September 12, 2015


When my mind begins it's whirl of thought and constricts my heart, I take to the woods.  The moment my feet hit the trail, I experience a softening.  I don't mean to suggest that I leave my chatty companion back at the jeep.  No, she comes along, but conditioned thought is no longer the object of my attention; my eyes are too busy beholding beauty, my ears too rapt with the song of bird and the rustle of wind across the horizon, my nose is held captive by the smell of sunshine and earth, pine tree and sweat and my hands are too busy caressing the tall fronds of grass and rolling sage.
 With so much beauty and grandeur, the little rumblings of a busy mind just don't garner a lot of hype.
And as I walk, my breath slows, my mind clears, my heart opens and I surrender, again and again, to this moment, as it is, right now.


For those of you who know and love me, it will be sufficient to say that I am happy.  Not superficial, moon-eyed happy, but a deep resevoir of happy that overflows with contentment.  It tastes like gratitude.

“The minute I heard my first love story,
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lovers don't finally meet somewhere.
They're in each other all along.”

Wednesday, September 2, 2015

You are it.

Be Present?
In enlightenment teachings, you may hear the phrase, “be present.” But if you look around, ‘you’ are the present moment. ‘You’ are not separate from it. ‘You’ are life itself. The only thing obscuring this realization is mental and emotional activity that continuously tries to move away from this moment into a dream of past, future, and resistance to now. The notion that you are separate from life is a creation of thought.
The personal will who tries to ‘be present’ and bring about a personal awakening is the dream. Instead of doing anything, including trying to be present, gently notice what is already being done. A dream of self is already being told. Thought is replaying the past, searching into future, and resisting what is in this moment, all for the benefit of a “me.”
That mind movement is a dream of control. It is a dream of personal will. Suffering and searching arise when you buy into the illusion of control and personal will.
When the personal will is seen to be a dream of thought, it dies on its own. That is true spiritual awakening. You realize there is nothing to seek. Paradise is already here, now. It has always been right here, right now under the dream that there was a “you” who was somehow separate from it and who needed to do something to find it.

~ From: Reflections of the One Life by Scott Kiloby 

falling in love with life

In nature, I find myself standing in awestruck amazement before the craggly, twisted, worn and weathered aspects of life.  Their seasoned journey through time tends to bring me to my proverbial knees.

As I pass through check-out lines, I see evidence of our cultures limited notion of beauty, with it's deification of the unmarred, slender, frizzless, lineless ease of youth.  We internalize these messages but seldom seem to ask ourselves on a foundational level if that has been our experience.

I see beauty in the bud, fresh with promise.  It's easily discerned in that springtime rush. But it is no less apparent in life's fading from fullness, when the passage of time is discernible in the history on the surface of a tree, a face, a stone, a faded bloom.

In that wide embrace, nothing is outside beauties door and my heart breaks open, time and again, falling in love with life itself.

Monday, August 24, 2015


This dance of life has long been a conundrum to me, the ultimate zen koan. I tried hard to make sense of it manage...ah yes... and to control... until something quite wonderful happened.  I came to the undeniable truth that I can't.  Whew!  In fact, that's the great comedic relief to the whole dog and pony show.  It's beyond our thinking.  We can lean into life, trust it and surrender. Not in some great sweeping, once-and-for-all enlightened "Aha! I got this" but in the ordinary moment-to-moment, leaning back into life. We can drop the opacity of self and embrace the unknown with all the hot messiness of our own misplaced longing.

After all this time, all these books, all these workshops, all this practice and all this seeking it's humbling to admit that it's just not that complicated.  It doesn't require years of ascetic devotion or my poetically, pious pretense masquerading as "I'm gonna get this". No.  Why? Because I don't need to "get" this.  The actual sexy, living, waking invitation is to trust the transparent, incomprehensible, vulnerable, awake, alive NOW to be, exactly as it is and me to be exactly as I am. In that fierce embrace, we don't need to understand life in order to live it, anymore than we need to understand love in order to love.

This robust NOW is the unltimate guru, whispering in every breath, that we are, ALREADY, right now, exactly what we have been seeking all along.  There is no other moment in which to bloom.  There is no other moment in which to be.