I'd Taken A Big Fat Crisis Off

The Fundamentalists Of Every Faith Remain Blind To The Truth That The “sigh Within The Prayer Is The Same In The Heart Of The Christian, The Muslim, And The Jew.” I Have Seen This Unity With My Eyes, Heard It With My Ears, Felt It With All My Being.

Then In October, Indian Summer, The Air Turned So Soft, The Sunlight So Fragile, And Each Day's Loveliness So Poignantly Doomed That Even Self-ignorance And Restlessness Felt Like Profound States Of Being, And He Just Wandered The Empty Beaches And Misty Headlands In A State Of Serene Confusion And Awe.

Everybody Gets Jolted. You, Me, Before We Die We’ll All Get Nailed, Lots Of Times. But That Doesn’t Mean We’ll Get Turned Into Witches. You Can’t Avoid Getting Zapped, But You Can Avoid Passing The Mean Energy On. That’s The Interesting Thing About Witches, The Challenge Of Them-- Learning Not To Hit Back, Or Hit Somebody Else, When They Zap You. You Can Bury The Zap, For Instance, Like The Gods Buried The Titans In The Center Of The Earth. Or You Can Be Like A River When A Forest Fire Hits It--phshhhhhhhhhhhh! Just Drown It, Drown All The Heat And Let It Wash Away.

The Environment, What Surrounds You, Is So Alive And Delightful And Complex.

Punctuationally Speaking, Wonder Is A Period At The End Of A Statement We've Long Taken For Granted, Suddenly Looking Up And Seeing The Sinuous Curve Of A Tall Black Hat On Its Head, And Realizing It Was A Question Mark All Along.