flowering universe

04/06/2022 0 By BuddyCushman

I said to my friend Bob yesterday, on my phone from a bench outside the kids’ building, “I’m grateful Susan divorced me.” What a weird thing to say. I added, “And my heart is broken, and breaks again every day.” He listened in Massachusetts.

“It’s simultaneous,” I said. Both these opposites at the same time. Holding hands. No this without that. I said with no divorce there would be no this phone call, and the phone call felt lofty and loving, important and powerful, carried on a strong wind way up there in the sky. Like, if the phone talk was the only thing which happened for and to me in the day, it would be a spectacularly amazingly blessed day. That loving.

There was channeling a sacred life energy, around three o’clock on a Tuesday afternoon, a wood bench in the shade in San Marcos, California, silent in a children’s play area sharing space with some of the complex’s raised vegetable beds. All swirled together, all the gardens and children, divorce and true friendship, Spring afternoons and a breeze which never quits. “Keep going, kid,” I think the day was whispering. “Be large.” Check these buzzing, flitting hummingbirds in the trees. These flowers, which have no opinions, or sadness’s. They just flower.

“All are nothing but flowers in a flowering universe.” – Soen Roshi

Mish mash in my head and heart.