To Heal a Soul and What Ocurred to me at Laura and Terri's Apartment

Who knows what a soul is? I can't say I do. But I do know they need regular healing.

I feel everything in my solar plexus. Every emotion is centralized there, and I feel everything in colors, density, weight and lightness. Most of the time I carry a colorless weight.

Some things make it seep away for a while.

One of those is Celtic music and Sugar Brown's. Being in this golden place of dim lights and deep earth tones, of people talking and laughing over the smell of rich coffee... sitting at little round tables and in brightly colored comfy chairs... listening to the patient rush of Celtic music, and seeing these people perform... doing what they love to do, living in their music--it's incredible. It heals the soul.

People are so beautiful.

The world is so beautiful.

While sitting on the couch in the apartment, I looked out the glass door. I looked at the world outside, and the concrete of the little porch. I thought about how strange it is to go so many places when there's so much where we are. I could spend an entire day in their living room, actively observing, and not see everything around me.

Every particle has a wealth of character, and even more so do the things we can't see.

I wrote a poem I didn't expect, but it's on the silly side... I thought a few brief things I'd like to post, though:

Look deeper.
Meaning is waiting.
Life is waiting.
Hope is waiting.
Always.

I recommend taking a close look at a wooden table, a counter top, a wall, or maybe a carpet. If you're outside, try a tree trunk, a fallen leaf, the petal of a flower, or a blade of grass. Look at anything. Everything has an intricate grain.

Thank you Laura, Glen, Terri, and Ty.

I love you.