This morning, like most, I sat with the rising sun. We see her rise later now. 5am is so much darker, though so much warmer, now than it was a month ago.
Even in silent stillness, the world is alive. The world moves. The universe moves.
My neighbor’s boyfriend opens the back door, sits down and lights a cigarette.
My mind wants to move to resentment: could this guy maybe wait a half hour before he pollutes my air? But I notice the feeling resentment brings to my body before it has a chance to materialize.
And my thought-gaze returns to a beautiful, ancient Doug Fir tree. It’s a block behind my house; my vantage point is perfect for soaking in its magnificence, but still allows for the details of boughs, branches and buds to draw me in.
Many months I have spent staring at this tree. I know her.
Today, however, this grandmother tree seems different. She embodies the celebratory human-ness of Krishna.
And she waves at me.
And in this moment, I know in my bones that we really are all in this together.
Moments or minutes or lifetimes later, a mosquito caresses my hand.
What this mosquito needs is nourishment from my body.
My blood.
We are all in this together.
And I might be a little loopy from the waving tree or the cigarette smoke, but I swear this mosquito touched me tenderly.
So I let him bite me.
Because I was curious if I could let this mosquito have what it needed without resenting it.
I will let you know how it goes.
Krishna is love.
Om Namo Bhagavate Vasudevaya.
(A caveat, a note, an acknowledgment: I intend to make this an observation on boundaries. Locating them, and then sticking to them.
Abuse exists. Terrible things happen. I’m noticing what happens when I allow others to do what they need while keeping myself safe. I plan to observe this from the other side of the coin as well. LOVE.)
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