Skip to main content

That Humming is You

No one is getting out of this alive. The flow will continue after you, it never stops. Don’t dam it. Jump into the stream. Don’t struggle. Roll. Submerge. Stopper your ears and listen. That humming is you, your life energy. What you bring into the world. Once you are gone, that particular humming will stop.

Love it. Marvel in it. Use your fingers to part the water. Realize we’re always waiting to be born. With each minute, each new day, each season, we emerge, head up, water dripping from our skulls, to blink at the sunlight, the green leaves, the ripple of the water carrying us.

Always, the meditative place you have gone has been this stream between the banks of overhanging willows. In the stream, not on the banks, burbling along, the rill tumbling air. The stream is timeless inside the most concrete time of sunshine blue sky green trees clear water made crystal in its drops.

I am the stream. Without me life is not complete. not this right now life. I complete life. I am as much a part of the fabric as the stream, the clouds. My fingers part the water. The stream turns to mercury under my nails.

We might as well roll. We’re already in it. Play a bit. Blow bubbles. Act the seal. Life is too short to waste one day in this glorious stream. Time suspended. That humming is you, never losing the stream. Always moving but always here.

A pink heirloom rose that blooms in the stream of life where that humming is you.
The rose Daddy Joe gave to Bigmama on her first Mother’s Day that now blooms in my yard where resides the stream of life.

the stream of life

Comments (7)

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *