So far this morning I have realized I played a part in a very uncomfortable get-together with friends partially because I was uber-envious of things they have that I don’t.

Another friend came over declaring she is in love

And yet another is deep in depression.


Nothing feels neutral.

I retreat into singing softly to my spiritual advisor, Emma.

Her trusting eyes are there still.

The press of her warmth on my lap helps my heart shed protective density too weighty for that lovely muscle.

My personality has served me so darn well over the years

But she doesn’t interest me much of late.

I saw a photo of a simply clad Samurai warrior

With his two swords still at the ready.

This feels somehow like me;

The gift of feeling one’s mortality whispering close and hot in the ear

Is, for me, the necessity to remain clear, grounded, honest, soft-hearted, curious and upright in rapt attention.

In our world this calls for at least periodic fondling of the grip of our sword as well as some polishing.

We needn’t use it.. just appreciate it’s existence.

Or use it.

I think the turn into the New Year is a perfect reset time.

This the way of resolutions instead of things I want I chose ways of being I’d like to inhabit:




Three things.

I bow to the sheen of your own personal sword.


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