listen to Rachel read this piece here:
I am of this body. A communion of flesh and expression. It is form (like carbonated, caffeinated cells of soft universal stuff) - strong, moist, moving, touching, breathing, living. It is the temporary home of my infinite self - my airy essence. I am here for this life, this temporary performance of experience and experiment, of flailing failures, and brave joy. It is a grand, spacious time and yet, a fleeting bit, a speck.
I read books and then I want to change the world. When that doesn't happen, I allow it to change me. Then I read something else and again I am like putty between the pages, the print marking me all over.
I think I might need to read with more sipping, less gulping.
I can also crack a joke, and I have learned how to do so without hurting others, which took some time. I am very grateful to be partnered with a comedian. He is the cake to my kale. I am trying to live more in my heart, bones, and belly, and less in the helmet of my head. More love, less analytical thinking. Humor is a lovely gathering of the heart, belly, and head. I love how laughter tumbles out like a brook, washing us clean. So yes, I welcome the timely toot and the late-night silly pillow talk. With the children, I welcome the dance, run, climb, and imaginary play, as well as the song, story, and snuggle. Joy is found in connection, after all: connection with oneself, connection with others, connection with one's environment.
I honor this ordinary life. I devour good bread. I sleep in a soft cotton kingdom. I allow all weeping, observe most boredom, listen for silence and stillness, chop, stir and cook, and receive the mystery better than I once did. I move through the daily doings and into the quiet being.
I wonder when we were given the title of human beings. I wonder who wrote it down and if they knew then the wisdom of this name.
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