I’ve been thinking a lot about space lately. On all levels, including the final frontier kind, with my favorite Spock whispering those fine words in my ear, especially when I gaze out the front window whilst brushing my teeth on a clear night with Venus and Jupiter, right there, nearly close enough for me to touch. The space between them the coziest of hammocks, and if I run and jump onto Don and Katie’s house, putting some sort of trampoline on their roof, I could spring onto it and lie swinging between their two stellar bodies.
I would watch my house the same way Jupiter does whilst brushing his teeth at night. Or maybe think about how the universe and everything we are is expanding, see if I could observe it from that high perch, all the while not really understanding the concept of dark matter or infinity, save for maybe infinite kindness, which I strive to possess, but come up short from time to time. Probably because I am human and flawed.
But I’m working on it, the human part, every single day, giving myself the space I need to discover all that I am, all that I strive to be. I read Pema and the signs, whatever they may be, and try to get less trapped in my own thoughts and occasional wickedness, watching, sometimes getting very lost, other times dancing like a child, blissfully aware of how damned good it all is.
But it’s all about space. The space to observe myself (and you, dear reader) with kindness. The space to grow. The space to know I deserve every happiness and success. The space to be and learn. The space to mourn something I scarcely remembered losing, yet loving the sweet discovery, too. Oh space, inner and outer, infinite and ever confined, how marvelous you are.
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p.s. The hubster works in the tall building at the very left. Hi Buddy!
Don’t ever become a pessimist … a pessimist is correct oftener than an optimist, but an optimist has more fun, and neither can stop the march of events.
