What is there to know, to say, to hear in this moment that feels like unending winter?
How do the trees grow so noble and tall? How do the birds keep singing? They have unquestioning force of life. They have pure being. What takes us thoughtful, tail-eating dragons into pure being? And away from our tails?
Gratitude.
A memory for the things we see, hear, feel, taste, have, and don’t have.
A memory for those close calls that left us whole.
A memory for the love we’ve been given from broken people trying.
A memory for that invisible thread that runs through us all.
To say there are others, on the other side, suggests sides. There are none. We are all energy in a closed, complicated, and wonderfully mysterious system. That is where we live, what we see and what we cannot see, and where we go. There is nowhere else. And this is enough. One family in love, if we acknowledge our cells and cellular source: Love. Balance, intentional productivity, awareness, a pushing outward, honoring inward. That love.
Love is pure being.
That is why it is possible to love animals. And why some people, like me, love animals more. They remind me of my better self.
First Words from a Sea Bird 