This is not mine but it is so delicious that I'm posting it on this extravagantly beautiful spring morning. This is from Danielle LaPorte, a spiritual teacher and author I don't recall ever hearing of. Yet this January 5 post rose into my Facebook newsfeed from out of nowhere. Gifts. They're everywhere. And this reminder … Continue reading you. me. some. one. now.
“Instead of shooting through the front windshield to crush my skull against that house-sized hunk of metal, I crawled out of that car with only a burn on my neck from the seatbelt. I remember leaving Frank's Little Hut in Montrose as I'd done a dozen unbelted nights before. I remember pulling that seatbelt around me; doing it and wondering why at the same time. Guided. Always.”
Suddenly, the room hushed and there was a weird change in the atmosphere. The clatter of cutlery on plates, the voices of those near me, the traffic passing by on Cherry Street, all of those sounds became muffled and there was a feeling of density in the air. At the same time the sound changed, everyone around me lost the vividness of their human suits and I could see with perfect clarity that there is nothing between us.
