They can all see my blind spots
and I would not hide them

everything must be looked at
and all brought to light

all old pattern examined
and what remains must be what I choose
to nourish and uphold

all parts
splinters
and gentle flowers
All in the light

no need to hide
they are all worthy of being seen

both no obstacle simple what is

I dreamt of a full room, something important was happening in your life, an opportunity or something you worked for
some sort of celebration
I was there just to say hello

All thought patterns need to be out in the light. If it makes me uncomfortable I dig in even more, see the thought patterns and give them a name

I talk to folks whose job is helping others navigate life and identify unhealthy ways of thinking and acting
from monasteries in the mountains to therapist over zoom
the classroom extends to the even the people around me
there is a teacher everywhere

much growth is in progress

All the frogs leap
all the walls feel like today
all words are near approximations
to what you can only point at

It is gone like the river
everything including I change
sand through my hands
gone

no grasping of resisting anything
or we resist life
and when we resist we suffer

Who knows what tomorrow’s flowers will be like

Paradise is in my apartment
It can be found over my small work desk
Or on my soft  blue duvet cover

I can be seen in the scooped white bathroom sink
or piercing on the back of a ray of light
that has made its way through my window

Paradise is in the way I love even the smallest fruit fly over my narrow kitchen counter

And when I close the door it follows me down the street to the convenience store, around the corner to the subway station,
down the street to a small mom and pops restaurant