What is the Impossible Request Life Asks of You?

It’s like this.  When we were kids playing in a sandbox we’d use sifters to sift through the sand, sometimes revealing treasures like, oh, I don’t know, insects and broken toys, plastic hair clips, that sort of thing.  Some days leave me feeling that way.  Box in hand- sifting through the desire, the tender feelings, the foreignness of the whole thing.

This thing about “I am so complex” is a front.  We’re not, as people, all that complicated.  We are gushy stuff, sacs, valves, holes and all that shit that makes us feel queasy to think of.  And somewhere in all this gushy stuff is a heart and a mind and a capacity to love beyond our imagination.  It’s not a valve, that love.  We can call it prana, life-force.  The thread that connects all of us, that links our stories and selves to everyone/every other living thing in this Universe.

I don’t pay lip service to these concepts.  Because I know them.  Can we open ourselves up to infinite love?  Can we feel the texture and see the colors of it?  Can we let it seep into and out of every single act, thought and dream we have?  Can I do all these things? 

That is the impossible request my life asks of me.  Open and open and open and open to grace.  See the world and universe as places of abundance.  And open when it hurts.  Open when there's joy.  Know that the two are the opposite sides of the same coin.  There is nothing to fear. 

Today is as good a day to die as any.

And today is as good a day to love as any.