Mystery

With palms together,
Good Morning Everyone,

As I write it is raining outside. The window is open, a gentle rain. The sound is marvelous. It is still dark and I am reminded of childhood when as a boy I stood on the beach in the dark and was riveted to the sand by the large and mysterious sound of an invisible ocean.

Mystery.

Our deepest and most primitive sense of presence occurs in the face of partial sensory deprivation. We cannot see or we cannot hear or we cannot feel or we cannot taste. In such moments other senses come alive. Its as if they seek out the missing data. The mystery is the search itself.

Zen is like this: on the edge of nothing...everything

May we each have the faith necessary to take the next step.

Be well.