I used to save the grocery store plastic bags so generously donned on me at checkout to shovel litter-covered cat poop into.
Soul wants to sink us down into the ground of our being, where it's fecund and rich, damp and ripe, ready for flourishing, continually opening and deepening into more of who we are, and what we are here for. To do so, our soul needs a witness in the other. An empathic, fiercely loving, solidly ...
You are not a number on any list or a box to be checked. The best parts of you are always the hardest to describe and impossible to typify.
I have been away from here most of my life, and coming back and seeing people in constant fear, pictures of dead bodies every day in the newspapers, the harassment in the streets, the machismo, sexism so raw and alive, corruption and injustice multiplying, stray cats and dogs, all the poverty, ...
A few days ago, I found out that my cat is sick. I’ve had Rex since I graduated from college. He’s now 15 years old, and is the sweetest, most loving, cat in the world. Like all animals, he’s cuddly and soft and dependable. Like all animals, he loves me (his owner) unconditionally.