Joko Beck says that sometimes we can try to push so hard through something that we just push whatever it is we are trying to break through underground. I see myself mustering as much intensity as possible to blindly get through what I cannot see, but only feel, like a great barrier. Blind horses being led to safety, or wild horses straining against their own release. Which is it, G., or is it both? I like that thought the best, blind wild horses in falling snow. You get the gently falling, healing snow, the ability to see Grace amidst the tanning salon clientele--I get constraint and escape, dialectical opposites and hard choices, and meanwhile miss the silence of the snowflakes.
I thought about you this morning in terms of your designation as G. Prayerful yet filled with life, following and breaking all the rules in turn, finding peace amidst the chaos. You abide, like no other. And you are funny. I have always loved that about you.
N.
