Early morning coffee

Like I promised, I'm writing again. And I was surprised to realize that the inner voice hasn't left me, once the pen touched-down on paper, it was as if I was reunited with that part of myself who sees clearly, who listens beyond words, and sees beyond outlines... to meaning and truth.

What is this truth that I talk about? It is not the kind of truth that I will offer to someone else and say, "This should be your truth too, accept it." It's truth that lies at the core of my experience, it's the essence of my moments, the laughter, the joy, the pain of inner knowing. It's probably a misuse of the word truth. For others, it's authenticity, genuineness, honesty. For me, too, it's all those things. It's what is left when all the layers have been peeled off and I allow the part of me, pure and untouched by grief, soft still even as life's pain has hardened everything else that surrounds it... to surface once more.

And herein lies the paradox. Because it has truly been touched, affected, influenced, altered, changed by life... because it is in this part of myself that life has truly, profoundly entered... so it remains untouched. Pierced to my core, piercing through life's core, this part of myself, this Spirit, remains pure as morning's dew, as a child's breath.

I now look out my window to the buildings, the houses, and the piece of sky that line my view, and once again, I am left in silence, the silence of knowing that everything is, that nothing need change, that all is beautiful. I feel my Spirit expand once more and I am lifted beyond my circumstances. Truly, life is more than this pettiness of need and greed and expectation. Life is more than this cup of coffee, these feelings of hurt, this experience of joy... And truly, too, as with life's paradoxical return, with eyes that truly see, it is also all that is.

This is life.

And it is beautiful.