Rest. Rest. Silence. Space. Beyond words. Beyond language. Deep inside one’s flowing river of awareness.

I have no words today for you. Just this song that I'm singing, attached. And silence and hope that you may rest in silence, in darkness, with the flowing river of your awareness, with ancestors, with grace, with faith, with all it is that you are sitting with in this life and beyond.

I have no words but I have song. It is not the words that matter, but the depth of everything in every way that comes with them. My grandma and I sing this song (the audio is me singing Amazing Grace) together and she harmonizes. It comes from Christianity, which my grandma’s uncle and older relatives did follow. I sing it now in the presence of all of the complex truths of our world. That we may love, we may be vulnerable, and, for this, we may hurt deeply. Unfair things may happen to us. We may suffer. We may ask, why me? We may experience joy and remember past memories of peace and soothing comfort. All at the same time as many others. We are all a bunch of stars, floating in the rivers of our awareness, we are all whole journeys, stop points along a long journey, wisdom, deep knowing beyond any human constructs. For me, music takes me there. Yes, I feel like I am watching and being part of galaxies being born when I listen.

Every heartbreak. Every birth. Every laugh. Every death. Every surprise. Every traumatic event. Every healing. All here, existing with us. At once. Within this suffering that is part of life, there is immense compassion, and by that, I mean wise awareness, wise knowing. This is the root of Tibetan Buddhism, which I love and often bring into my practice. Lately, I have been going to BIPOC Sangha with Bhumisparsha. To sit in silence for 30 minutes…with the unknowing of it all, the fear, the suffering, the doubt. And to sit together in community, together in this unknowingness yet also in this wisdom and compassion. I cried happy tears when I went to my first sangha this past week. This next month of March, for me, will just be about rest, resting from 1-on-1 session work, resting my body, resting in creativity, in song, in dance, in writing, in reading. I do feel like a star in the universe. And I feel lucky to have always had a bit of this. I feel magical. I feel infinite. I feel divine. I feel my ancestors supporting me, even when I am so down by the cruelness and suffering that I witness. I feel this essence of magic that is a part of who we all are. The way we are grown, we are born. The river of awareness that comes into our bodies. The bodies of others existing on this Earth body at the same time. I mean, cats exist, that always makes me happier than I can explain with words. Also plants. Thousands and thousands of delicious or bitter or medicinal or tasty herbs. Millions. Gazillions. Ga-trillions. Anyways, when we sleep, when we dream, sometimes it helps us remember that we are a star in the universe. Maybe this song I am singing and all of the wise compassion of its expression will help to remind you. Whatever does remind you, just remember that we all have it. We are all here. Together. Compassion and service are wonderful. You are made up of so many complexities. So many elements. Maybe it will all make sense some day, maybe it never will, but one thing’s for sure, that I know, I am a star, a river, my ancestors, this song, my tears, aches, and deep, deep, deep rest so deep it takes you into other worlds. We are all stars. 

Thank you for being here, my friend.