Yesterday
we had a neighborhood cook out. Everyone brought food. There were no
enlightened diets, just the delicious casserole of each other. It never
occurred to anybody to take pictures. You can't take a picture of
Presence. We were completely happy just eating and laughing. It was a
party because there were no parties. No politics. No fireworks.
Nobody said grace, because everything is grace before it arises. Only
afterward did we realize that this was a miracle, the ordinary miracle that is
always available. And it was liberation, because freedom is just being a
neighbor. Independence is entanglement. Breathing in, there is
awakening, with no "I" who needs to awaken. Breathing out, a vast hug
that does not need to be given, because it already encircles us,
enfolding the bodies of friends, city parks and streets, the distant
hills, the intimate ancestral stars. We float like stunned dust in the
silent explosion of gratitude.
Watercolor by Yvonne Hemingway
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