One of my favorite things to do, for as long as I can remember, is to find somewhere far away from people and very close to wild and lay down on the bare earth, beneath warm sun and wide sky and sleep. It is so delicious and decadent. As I lay there, head cushioned on weeds and grasses, body caressed by breeze and insect, I relax and my entire body breathes a deep sigh of ease and release. It is as close to HOME as any thing I know of.
When everything looks bleak and the darkness cramps against the cold, it takes courage to simply look out from imagined isolation toward the wide horizon of beauty available in every moment. It takes courage to lean into the sea of life and trust the tide. When weary limbs no longer support us, it takes courage to trust our inner buoyancy and float. It takes courage, in the face of darkness, to remember the light and sit in all our apparent blindness and listen, silently, to the still, small whisper within. It takes courage, in that dark hour, when nothing else remains. Eyes closed. Eyes opened. A glimpse, a memory, a fleeting vision of a light so bright it blurs the borders of things seen and things perceived into a comprehensive wholeness of being. It takes courage.
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