on beings of earth

When I meet every day on its very own terms, curious about what is to come and undeterred by whatever has already rolled in, I find a quiet peace in all moments—be they happy or harried, filled with joy, loss, or dread. From that space a deep sense of well-being provides succor from the fiercest storms and gentlest eddies, and I always feel a loosening of the ties with which I have previously bound up my soul’s own feet. And wings.

The now becomes a paddle for my rowboat, whether we face tall, standing seas or dry sandy basins, and every rock-gouged upturning offers me one more lesson in swimming or walking or simply breathing while here. We beings of earth dwell in forever, too often fearing ourselves past- or future-trapped, whilst the now attends to us, bearing us into—and beyond—its full and limitless heart.

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