Rain Mist over Mountain
I'm having my first cup of coffee. The skies are clear. I feel a sense of peace and gratitude for the beauty that surrounds me and an awakening understanding of dying and living, how intertwined they are. How both are gifts that offer us a way to deepen our spirituality and go within to find love, healing, and the answers to our mystery.
We tend to think that death is permanent like our circumstances. Death is not a permanent state. We are not a permanent state. We are always changing, growing, expanding, creating, seeking, adventuring, healing, and loving.
Death teaches me not to get lost in the details. Death teaches me not to look for the answers of how I should live my life outside of myself. The answers are not in the print of the morning paper, they are not found in the balance of my bank account, or in the way our consumer culture markets me to live. The answers to my life are within. I just need to clear my mind and give the answers time to reveal themselves.
Yesterday, on our hike, I stood still for several moments watching the mist and the mountain separating and connecting as one living being. While I was taking a photo of the large hawk with her white belly and striking gaze, I couldn't remove her with my lens from the tree she perched on, they were one. The stream, I crossed earlier, her running water formed the rocks, smoothing the edges, sculpting stone as one living water way.
In life we are one with death. An ever connecting boundless, endless journey that changes form into formlessness and back into form again. We are always touching each other separating and connecting as one into and out of one being.
Those we have lost are not lost, we are always together like the mist and the mountain, the hawk and her tree, the stones and the running creek, never in a fixed state, always moving and changing as one.