What a year it has been. This year I have lived out of a suitcase, been generously cared for by friends and community, been brought to my knees with fear and grief, and cultivated a kind of presence that I have longed for.
When we own nothing, when we live nowhere, when we aren’t mult-tasking and posting it all on social media….who are we?
I have met terror, and frustration and despair. I have met surrender, and patience and profound peace. I have met Gratitude.
But then there is also THE WORLD and its topsy turvy liesastruthhateinsteadoflove bizarreness. What of that? I will admit that I am both terrified and also stubbornly more determined than ever to do my work. The work that connects. The work that ignites. The work that points the way back to our natural impulse for creativity and communal care. I am digging in my heels while I am held in the infinite unknown. With every breath I stand for a future that includes health and joy for all beings.
Let’s vision it up….let’s create this spell together.
Who are we? We are the weavers.
“Are you looking for me?
I am in the next seat.
My shoulder is against yours.
you will not find me in the stupas,
not in Indian shrine rooms,
nor in synagogues,
nor in cathedrals:
not in masses,
not in legs winding around your own neck,
nor in eating nothing but vegetables.
When you really look for me,
you will see me instantly —
you will find me in the tiniest house of time.
Kabir says: Student, tell me, what is God?
He is the breath inside the breath.”