Morning walk,
in my head more than the woods,
troubling about my old knees,
this chilly day, self-doubts, chores.
Standing by the brook, brooding.
An oak tree lets go an acorn.

Here. This. Just this.

This moment is enough.
I am enough.
This body, this day, given.
My doubts, my worries, unreal.
All of that is elsewhere.
But right here:


I am beloved,
life, the huge of it, magnificent,
and I a member, here,
right ploop here.

Keep listening
for the call.

Steve Garnaas-Holmes
Unfolding Light
Listen to the audio recording:

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