drawing Life is a forest of darkness and light, growth and decay, delight and sorrow. Life is a path through the forest, sometimes clear, somtimes obscured, sometimes wide and comfortable, sometimes blending into the undergrowth with briars snatching at our ankles and scratching our face.

We can reside in the forest, finding our place in it, arranging it to our liking. Or we can take up the path, moving through the forest, letting the experiences of its varioius aspects come and go. Traveling with the path wherever it leads, not attempting to direct it.

Following as it passes through shadows and sunlight, feeling both the chill and the warmth, smelling the life and the death. Watching everything coming into being and passing away and coming again; feeling the sensations within us arising and declining and arising again.

The soul is a bird in the forest. It lives there for awhile until it begins to long for the path that leads through everything to something else.

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