I hunt the words and world's of my life. They are, simply, revealed in all their complexity and simplicity, culpability and innocence. I am humbled and rest, in my power and gentleness. Trusting more this life, and this process of unfolding, becoming. ... nothing more than who I am.
I learn and grow into nothing and everything, in this, simple, profound ordinary life. Grasping and longing, letting go, and holding on tght. Can I see what is there to be seen, in this day, today, in this my life. Fully part of all things, it cannot be any other way.
