Thursday, April 28, 2011

What has happened is this:

I feel more.  And where, exactly, my emphasis lies I decipher is changeable. Just like the day. Just like my breath. Or like Hamlet. And it seems (at least, that's what I often tell myself) like near-death and like coming back to life.  Every second an infinite and thrilling partaking of something. And the moment is shattered by a question: "Of what?" All of this: this life, this consciousness, this breath, this body, this mind, all of it--the cellular-level "IT"--all of it tied to something bigger than me.

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