Idle and Blessed

God is like the moment in a forest when the wind stops and no one is breathing and there are somehow no squirrels and for a moment there is absolutely nothing except the world just being . For a moment, not even a hint of change. Not even a hint that God breathes. Isn’t he supposed to breathe? And I’m the one just dancing on the leaves and making some ruckus to encourage God to start talking to me in the forest, or at least laughing at my silliness, not because I’m afraid of the quiet, but because I’m concerned that God has stopped breathing. I’m the little girl running and jumping on God’s body earth, poking him to wake, tugging at his leg, like a daughter pulling on her dad’s coat from so far below. “Hello there God, let’s make some noise, do you like me, do you hear me, are you awake?” I know God is I Am ( is-ness ) and maybe there are moments when God dances with us but I haven’t seen that side of God in a very long time. One time I saw a dog run over in the midd...

Dear self, I know you crave wholeness, and you think that means perfection, like somehow being imperfect will shatter you into pieces of unimportance. Like plastic jewelry crushed on a sidewalk, only useful for the moment it made someone else happy. I know you think the way to wholeness, perfection, is efficiency in all your tasks, like there's a shortage of time on the clock of your life, and laughing wastes the seconds and the oxygen around them. Like you must take up less space in the world, and do things faster, and do them better. And stop breathing so much. I know you think your feelings need to justify themselves to you before appearing, and that you are worried about letting them run the show. And I know there are good reasons you've come to see emotions this way, and that you are protecting yourself, and I want to tell you that's ok. I want to tell you it's ok to face the fears that are underneath your controlled calm waters. I want to tell you there ...