We have enough tales about how things fall apart…
This is the tale of what comes after.
This is the tale of the braid of love and truth that held together long enough for our traveling, as everything around it frayed and then unraveled without ceremony.
Like the roots of the banyan, it was all too slow for human perception to understand this revolution. Until the revolution became irresistible and the take over complete. Until roots outnumbered stones and entanglements became like breathing. The temple still visible beneath the roots, the roots creating new worlds, offering generous cracks and fissures within which to imagine again.
In the space between that the crack holds open, light can emerge and something truly new may be birthed.
This is the story of the secrets that saved us…
The Apocalypse doesn't come on time
‘My place is in the elsewheres that have no name yet. I feel this in my bones.’… This quote stopped me in my tracks when I read it the other day. The elsewheres. The places that have no name yet. The kind of elsewheres that call my soul.
Grocery store supernovas...
I’ve recently contemplated making my own crackers. This is a crisis.
The LEAP of faith...
I heard clearly in my mind that L.E.A.P. is to mean: Life Experienced As Purpose. Life Experienced As Purpose. This, coming through at a time when I was, yet again, making my own leap of blind faith in my life.