Your niece is a caterpillar. Your cousin is a butterfly. Your unborn children are the glittering treasure that got scattered over the Milky Way when a fragile boat called Name-and-Form foundered in the waves of no-self.

One nucleotide in your little toe is bigger than your mind. You claim  membership in this tribe, that race, this nation, that Faith. But your DNA belongs to the planet, embraces the whole human family, plus many other species, not just citizens of the Earth, but star kin!

Stop thinking so small. Stop shrouding your soul in veils of either/or black/white left/right east/west spirit/flesh.

O mind, listen to the music of your ribosomes, your protons, quarks and gravity waves, because every dot and bindhu of your body contains all the information in the cosmos.

You could be caroling from the green glow of your all-entangled heart. You could be singing all night about your glory, down in the moon-glittered swamp, with Great Uncle Tree Frog.

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