They come and go like the rain of San Miguel.
At times I follow them. Other times I notice them and inquire from where they have traveled, and to where they desire to go. There are times when I stop them. To redirect them. Lead them in the direction of truth.
This is the practice of life:
We bring ourselves back.
It happens only after we’ve accompanied them into the crevices inside of which they reside. To know their story is to free ourselves of our own.
I sit in order to hear, in order to listen. Clarity comes at the arrival of my attention one-pointed:
I hear God in those moments. I feel the presence of my father. Angels fill me to feeling. I stand in the light.
This is why I sit: