When I’m alone, if I’m alone outside, my heart soars up into the branches of the trees and alights next to one of our rufous sided chickadees, or goes to befriend the shy Pacific Slope Flycather, calling from the feathery branches of the neighbor’s cedar trees which lean over our fence, giving us privacy and places for the birds to nest.

When I am alone at night under the stars, I greet my celestial companions and they shine back at me.

When I can quiet my rushing mind, alone, in stillness, the other creatures we inhabit the space with, earth, the universe, the back yard, they come and find me, to buzz by my ear, like the mosquitoes, or to land on the flowering vegetables like the butterflies, or to watch me from the top of the woodpile, like the chipmunk my dog has tried to befriend.

When I’m alone, I’m not alone

I feel the heartbeat of the grandmothers, those who lived before me, who love this land and love me.

When I’m alone and quiet, the blessings come gently as the cool breeze off the harbor and kiss my forehead and give me grace.

What is it that keeps me from taking this time of quiet?  The thousand items on my list:  trim that branch off the dead Japanese Maple tree before it tears into the flag we put out at half staff.  Weed whack the side yard, for God’s sake, and water the tomatoes.  No, the thoughts interrupt themselves, now that’s dry, clean the area rugs.  Take them out onto the deck and spread them out and give every fiber a good going over.  Go do the recycling.  Stop watching the horrible news but DO support the artist whose portraits tell stories of black lives, and also remember to give Lori the air conditioner.  And let’s not forget the important phone call coming up this afternoon.

When I’m alone, it’s just breathing, and the peace of the flow of Love all around me.  Love is stronger than fear they say.

Love is so simple and it is so difficult to just stop and let love be.