A Walk in the Woods

"Softer, Sophia", that's what she had said. And as I sat on the entrance to my rustic winter writers cabin bench, these words came to rest upon me.

I was putting my new brown leather boots on. Contemplating the essence of these things. Lightness in teachings. Even the softness I could at once experience overlaying hands on flesh, my traditional boots. Softness. Ease appearing at the thought of this.

And I went outside.

Wool toque, from Peru, on my head. Or was it Alpaca? Must have been...

Grace. That word. An ancient world of nothingness, found everywhere, also in every seeming thing.

Ease. Through acceptance. A feeling of releasing all those little thorns, the hatches aimed toward someone, myself. No one. Nothing. Just habituated fear, lack, humiliation, stories that go round until they truly go no where. Mean nothing. Just two wolves running. Chasing each other on and on. Synapses firing meaningless to me, here now, information.

I let them run. Silently. As I slip into the hands of presence. Nature. Our greatest supporter. The energy that flows through me. The energy that I am.

So we step once again into a synchronistic melody. Her, the nature and her , the nature in me.

Outside in. Mmmmmm, I sigh. Letting her in. Simply allowing this moment into my existence. Yum.

And the rest is like magic, of course. Beating in coherant harmony with all that created this day, this time, and me here in this moment. Energy. Limitless. Unbound. Always present. Never leaving. Just tune in to the right frequency, found easily. From heart to living heart. She's always inside of me, I think.

Softer, Sophia.