Walking barefoot. Unbathed. No need to shave. Mud stained knees. Peeing in the trees. TP tossed in the fire place. The wind rustles the leaves. Carries the dying ones across the forest in a breeze – like a peaceful snow storm. Watching two red wing black birds flitter about. Playfully meandering from branch to branch. Disrupting the pileated woodpecker in his quest for a decent lunch. The crick – cracking of swaying tree trunks. No wonder houses are so noisy at night.

Squirrels chittering. Birds whistling. Pileateds pecking. The sun finding its way through the still bare tree tops. Buds just beginning to form. Warming my skin. Permeating deep within. Like a blanket, an embrace of the spirit. Coating me in its affection. I pull it in. Draw nearer. The heat slowly filling me up into the deeper recesses of my being. Like liquid gold. And just when the flesh can’t take anymore – the clouds come to offer a reprieve, a gentle breeze brushes away the heat. Tingles the epidermis. Cools the fire inside. But the clouds pass and the sun returns once more to fill the soul – to spread its love. To penetrate through the pores and reach its finger like rays into my core. And it holds me there. An embrace from within and throughout. And this to me is the ultimate. Sing praise and rejoice in silent gratitude. For life and embodiment.

For it is all one, but we have been sent here to experience the oneness. To separate and interact with parts of ourselves that are temporarily disconnected from the Self. In order to learn, to appreciate, and to understand. Like in a dream, psychologists will tell you that every aspect is you. Your mother, the house, the rabid dog, it is all you. You are only interacting with aspects of yourself. And is not the same true of the waking world?

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