Where does one thing end, and another begin?
Humans love order, and we need a good measure of it to be able to accomplish significant goals, but when it comes to borders between countries, nomenclature, and the very passing of time, somebody at some point had to make some decisions that were, at least in some small way, arbitrary.
After my Solstice ceremony which I conducted virtually with the help of a friend who I’ve known and loved since I was 3 years old, I went out back and watched the sunset over the Columbia.
As with every sunset, it was extraordinary in its own remarkable way, and when I took photos of it, I was struck by these clouds, so deeply representative of the ambiguity of what is, and how it always, eventually becomes, as demonstrated by the perimeter gradient of these clouds, what is no longer.
As someone who goes with nature, not against it, I simply must love the impermanence of everything, the blurring of the lines between what is and isn’t, the shifting gradients between them, and as an Existentialist and Stoic this acceptance includes appreciation for the brevity of our very lives.
This truth about how I position and present myself in relationship to the world makes it so that, everywhere I look, I see proof of how very me-neutral nature is, and how it-biased it continues to be, in spite of us and the enormous burden we bring to it. I love how it shows me exactly what helps me see more clearly the value of the work I’m already doing, and in this way, how deeply connected I feel to it as my everywhere-teacher, as my constant guide, as the powerful authority that outlasts us all.
Every day, I start and end in completely different places; deep inside myself, in my body and brain, in my capabilities to face yet another glorious day of being alive.
The sky at sunset on Summer Solstice held all this magic for me, and through me telling you about it may I also bring it to you – here it is, it’s right here, yours for the joyous taking, right where it’s always been, and always will be!
I love you.
Thank you.