In writing this blog, there is a definite sense of vulnerability. A sense that people may think that they know who I am by reading these words I write here. It has given me pause in recent days. I have taken some space to be with what I've put out to the world on these pages. What I have lived in the past six months, the past 33 years. There are no conclusions. Just some thoughts as always.
These words are not me. As my dear friend James puts it, "Your thoughts about a tree are not the tree." What I write here is the meandering journey of my mind. A catalog of emotional experiences, daily occurrences and my responses to them. That is not who I really am. There is beneath it all a silent watcher, untouched by all. The me that is connected to you and to every one and every thing. That me is beyond words. If you care to meet that me, look into my eyes. I'll be there.