Pausing here, as I write the words,
to feel the oxygen filling me
as if for the first time.
This is life.
The day to day,
hour to hour,
minute to minute.
The waves of exasperation and irritation,
shame and guilt and uncertainty too,
dancing amongst the touches
of beauty and joy.
The mundane, spinning with the ecstasy.
The dog barking at 6 am on Saturday,
and coming down to a sink full of dirty dishes.
The unconditional love of a dog,
and the food we ate for dinner last night.
No way to have one without the other.
No way to have the brilliant sparks of stars
without the haunting shadows of dark.
And so we practice somehow,
to be with it all and all of it.
Without choosing, without preference,