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Arrival


A random front yard garden in Berkeley.

The first Day. Someone asked me, “When did you arrive?” I stopped to think because even though I have only been here for 24 hours, it feels like much longer. So much can transpire in such a short time: from the airport to the Ferry Building via Bart, a bowl of chicken soup from The Slanted Door take out, watching for the ferry to arrive from Sausalito, meeting with my son for an hour before he has to return, watching my daughter arrive by bike, riding the ferry at sunset from San Francisco to Oakland, walking to dinner at our favorite Mexican


restaurant. It’s about the fresh flavors in the sauces, soups, in the salads.  The way the sky is so blue and the cold breeze warming as the day progresses and then cooling again.  I love the layers and wearing my hat for the morning walk. I say to myself, ” awake to this very moment.”  Across the room my daughter is “working from home.” The dog asleep in her bed on the floor.  It’s about the discussions: What about No Self, How do we formulate questions regarding spiritual concepts and practices?, Can we locate Awareness?, Do we have a soul?  Discussions  generating questions rather than answers. And the immense appreciation I feel for the unconditional welcoming of my arrival and presence.

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