All life in this dimension has its seasons but some cycles are smoother than others. The #DailyDose isn’t always easy to swallow, especially when seasons change.
Fall, once my favorite time of year, foreshadows the leaving of hot and humid summer, green becoming yellow or orange but brittle nonetheless, a forecast of the future, subtropical winter, dry and cold. Physical change, cyclical and unstoppable.
I feel the fingers of a cold that does not leave until late spring, my body’s bones inflamed with a warmth that destroys, so susceptible they are to dry cold. Mobility is a little bit less every spring, and acceptance looms larger every year.
Zen is never more helpful than when the present is unpleasant. I become the great detective investigating change, its every clue, as I battle ego’s thoughtless reactions, one after another. It’s no contest between the crime of change and ego’s constant chatter. Nonetheless, the game is ever afoot.
For mind is rather attached to body and quite preoccupied with its preservation, which is the nature of being human. Would that we were given to the same preoccupation with the preservation of our planet. We hold the act of being alive, surviving, above all else with so little regard for the energy that animates everything.
I don’t know what “being” is like anywhere else in the universe (or multi-verse) but when the body dies, it is only the body that is gone. Forever, energy expresses itself: stardust, planets, mountains, and my favorite, trees. For as long as a tree lives, it leaves. What greater expression?
We, too, cycle. The energy we are cannot be captured or held for it will not stay. Living is not reaching rainbow’s end but realizing color’s contrast. That is the pot of gold. We get as much as we experience.