Between the Heartbeats
Life says to me...
When the storm comes, hunker down into the center of it.
The eye has things to teach you. About where you came from and where you're headed. About how sometimes things get worse before they get better. About this rain falling, falling, falling. (So much falling.)
When you're tired and you wonder about time and how much longer? and when will this hard work pay off? Listen to the beating of your heart. Not just every beat as another moment of life leading closer to death. (Can't have one without the other.) But more than that. Listen to the space between the heartbeats and what it has to teach you about transcendence.
But you forget easily. So, take your grief off the shelf, and open it like a gift. Let the leaving teach you what the staying never could. Kindle that fire. Let it burn inside you.
Then look into your dark night. Unfold the corners and spread it out as far as it will go. See where it falls off the edge of the horizon? Where does it go from there?
You see, all these things are useful.
Unfold your dark night. Kindle your grief fire. Listen to your heartbeat. Spin in the center.
Do them. Then spiral around, and do them all again. And again.
Until there is nothing left of rain and shine and life and death and leaving and staying and night and day.
Nothing but the space between the heartbeats.