The Heart's Story

My heart?

She's overjoyed that she hasn't got everything figured out yet.

She still has so much love, verve, and curiosity to express. She's definitely not done yet.

She whispers to me: "You know, there's a Korean film called: Spring, Summer, Fall, Winter . . . and

Spring."

So, this is our new Spring. "No shelf for me, she says!" she announces.

"This time, I'm being found, rather than the huntress. Oh, I still will indulge in treasure hunts, but

instead of tracking with my bow and arrow, I'm making myself available--in some deep, rich, fecund

way, letting the Universe claim me--discover me, and in the process, uncover me, unearth me."

I feel the quickening of being seen, sensed, recognized, appreciated--allowing me, in turn, to extend

that to others, also learning to let the selves be found:

Found by—Found to–Lost and found—Profound.

Resounded by the choir of the Universe--found to what wasn't honored, cherished; found to what

was blown off, dismissed, diminished, disinherited; found to the nest of my own heart, a heart of kind

inquiry. Found to the easy dust of summer, dandelions and the buzzy song of insects, grasshoppers

and once green grasses gone straw-colored, crunching underfoot.

Found. Found to the magic of a cool puddle under the shade tree. Found to me! -- and the magic

awareness of truly taking in the Presence and Grace of Other. And graced we are that we are not the

only--and, that, Thank God, it isn't just all about me; that there is Other to discover, discern, by

making me available to its revealing; by listening to it, sensing it, viewing it with open and eyes and

heart--sometimes even licking it.

I saw a sign in a TV series: "Do not lick the walls." I remember licking wood fences to get a better

sense of that delicious wood smell. It made me feel a kinship with trees. I even licked barnacles

once--sharp, tangy, bland--all at once: a part of my sense-based repertoire. Hope they have barnacles

in Heaven, in our lives beyond the veil.