• Have you done your dishes today?
• Listen to one breath
• Contemplate the unavoidable nature of death
• Clean up your room a little
• Remember that words can only do so much to help you understand
• The rest comes through your body
• Pay attention
• Let it all flow through
• Love is a choice
• We are the matter. The matter is us. Can you love your dishes?
• Can you love doing laundry?
• Can you accept that love is not a high you ride, but rather an attitude? A way of being?
• Can you accept that love is an act? What you can release rather than what you can gain?
• That it comes with giving? With merging? Can you accept that love will breach the boundaries of your rationalizing mind? Will break the boundaries of words, of language? That this is why the love poem continues on as a never ending cycle, our sonnet to life as we drift ever towards the end?
• Your lover is you
• Your enemy is you
• Your dishes are you
• Will you worship the one in everything?
• Will you see how your actions reach out beyond you in space and time?
• Your lover is forever
• Your enemy is forever
• Your dishes are forever
• We grow in the garden of time; does it wash us away? flatten us? or does it let us grow?
• In what way do waves die?
• Contemplate the unavoidable nature of life
• When I die, I will grow again
• And again, and again, and again...
• again...

I wonder if enlightenment is a place you can reach. It was never what I really wanted. I know only of a stillness in the mind, a way of touching the source, of connecting with everything, spacially and temporaly. Maybe it happens to some kids when they experience death young. When they see their father cry before his own father gone. When they kiss their sleeping grandmother goodbye for the last time in the hospital and know it only minutes after they've left. A journey starts, a dogged pursuit of the truth, of a Truth. Somewhere along the way you touch something deep in the heart of everything. Eventually you learn that life is a practice of coming back to this over and over and over. That life is a gift you can try to enjoy. That you don't need to be swallowed up in darkness, in your pain. Or in the suffering of the world. There is something you can do with that pain. You learn that a coin has two sides, but that there is still only the one coin. That yin and yang are only discriminated for our benefit, that truly they are one color, one being.

The longer I pay attention, the more I understand what people mean by God. Idk about the bible—I've never read it—or the things people say—they tend to just be talking about their ego—but I see something. I see it all over. I see it in my friends, in the ones I love. I see it even really in the worst of people. I see it in trees. In grass. In bugs. In the way water flows over my dishes, over me. In the way I bend to smell coffee. In the way my history is linked to parts forever unknown. In the way my future stretches out beyond the horizon. In the way I know I am intertwined with it all. In the way I know I can never physically leave the ones I love. Atoms speak better in love than we tend to do.