I have become quite fond of beginnings. They are timeless, emerging from change, dropping the baggage of loss or gain. They are ever new, without end.
We think that the point is to pass the test or to overcome the problem,
but the truth is that things don’t really get solved.
They come together and they fall apart.
In my later years, I get it.
Aging has its perks–don’t let anyone tell you differently–it is a rich and abundant time, full of possibilities. Being old is worth experiencing all the life it takes to get there.
Time–being–belongs to all of us. No one controls impermanence, no one. All of life is one experience after another. Some we hold onto longer–they are boomerangs–others, we revisit out of choice.
The past is not without its worth–there are moments to be mined–it’s a collage of images playing for time, ever available for viewing.
I explore my past, careful not to get caught in the infinite loop of reliving. In reflection, I find acceptance in what cannot be changed.
Life comes together and falls apart. I “get” groundlessness; walking on air feels an obvious choice.
It is a dance, life. Movement inspires. The very core of who I am is a swirl of emotion. I make choices, I make mistakes. I act. So do you.
We are always in relationship, each its own dance. Not all last a lifetime. Most do not.
We go on–the star dust that is us–energy and vibration animating the universe, a never-ending dance–coming together, falling apart, coming together–each a bright, shining moment.