Merci beaucoup.

We hold onto so much, that we at times forget to live and let love, we abandon our true selves, to accommodate the pressures of the world, we forget that there is joy in letting life and living in the moment. 

The treasure we seek, the one that we’ve been made to believe it exists, requires no lengthy expedition, not does it demand expensive equipment. It doesn’t need superior aptitude or special company; all we lack is the willingness to accept and to imagine that we already have everything we need. The truth: The only thing missing is our consent to be where we are. To live in the moment.

He hasn’t felt settled in a long while. The few days leading to this post were filled with fresh thrill; the urge to pursue; he’d forgotten how it felt to look for something, perhaps because he’d closed down all doors and windows and had denied himself a fresh touch of warm sunshine. No one understands nature: a tree bathed in sun rays, a weathered tree trunk, maybe the animals, a mountain perhaps? Each has life, has a tale to tell, is a life, suffers, endures, experiences joy, dies -- but it is all shrouded in secrecy. The sanctity of life. 

One of the most powerful medicines for our anxious, agitated hearts can be found in the small, daily moments that make up a life. When we attune ourselves to the gifts that surround us, we have abundant opportunity to connect, create, receive and give--to allow ourselves rest from tiresome striving and appreciate that in actuality we live immersed in "enough".

It's hard to let go anything we love. We live in a world which teaches us to clutch onto the past. But when we clutch we're left with a fistful of ashes.

To live content with small means.
To seek elegance rather than luxury,
and refinement rather than fashion.
To be worthy not respectable,
and wealthy not rich.
To study hard, think quietly, talk gently,
act frankly, to listen to stars, birds, babes,
and sages with open heart, to bear all cheerfully,
do all bravely, await occasions, hurry never.
In a word, to let the spiritual,
unbidden and unconscious,
Grow up through the common.
This is to be my symphony.
~ William Ellery Channing from "My Symphony"

She embodies grace, fragrance of high heavens. Her laughter fills the little space surrounding her, she is a handful. She evokes openness; He’d say she embraces life. He’d trade a bit of himself, to have that touch, to feel alive again; close, yet so far. She is a mystery, yet he can see through veils. She appreciates life, what it offers; He thinks he knows her; but she is strange. Attracted so? He is a respecter of boundaries; but this one, he is drawn; to the feel of thrill, adventure perhaps. But still, it remains as so.

This is a thank you note; to have the feel, once more. He’d say, life’s’ a mystery.
Tell him, would you hesitate?

Remain a flower, for its beauty could awaken mountains, however briefly, to the beauty, the song birds; an essentially to our existence and the innermost being, true nature.

It doesn’t matter to most people that the wind sings in the trees or that a mountain shimmers in the sunlight.  But you find life in all this, a life you can partake of.
He Thanks you. 😊

Memoir #3