It’s my story – and yet prior to telling, there’s no claim of an author, and even now it’s clear that life is happening on it’s own and this story is simply narration as it unfolds. This individual life is a narrow focus of the whole, as if a flower believed itself separate from the entire field of it’s existence and it’s petals did not touch the sky – my own roots are deep in life, and too I am an open reach to the sky. But sometimes I believe myself alone, small, separate, forgetting for a moment I touch both earth and stars. I get caught up in my story, a belief in this individual flower – yet even in this narration, I am never not the field of one existence.
~
Peace,
Eric
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