how dry our bones feel in the wind


I’m enjoying life more fully now than I ever have … I don’t for a moment regret being seventy-two years old. It’s part of life, just like getting born was; just like being a jackass and an adolescent was. (Laughs.) And I’m continually, repeatedly discovering or having experiences sitting out in the yard and listening to the spring coming into the land, watching my purple martins, knowing that they’ve been all the way down to the southern tip of South America, have come back, found the same house — same hole in the house (laughs) — that they were raised in. This great capacity of life to renew itself. I think perhaps I’m more sensitive to that than ever before. I’m more sensitive to the fact that when Robert Browning had Rabbi Ben Ezra say, “Grow old along with me, the best is yet to be, the last of life, for which the first was made” — that this is absolutely profound.

~John Henry Faulk

there was a time when nothing we noticed was rotting or decayed….and now we breathe the sweet smell of dusk…….herein lies the deeper beauty of knowing…..of a life richly dwelled…

inquiry for today~  how can you honor your waking time and sleeping time as a moment to be old, filled with light and seeking nothing…..

winds that fade

People like you and I, though mortal of course like everyone else, do not grow old no matter how long we live. We never cease to stand like curious children before the great mystery into which we were born.

~Albert Einstein, from letter to Otto Juliusburger



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