Spark

Floating in awareness. 

Bracing in the chest. 

At first I thought it was fear, and maybe it was a little, but I allowed that fear and floated in. The bracing tightened and morphed into a grief of life. Loss. All loss. My children, my wife, my friends, my life. It was all there, and overwhelming and all encompassing grief. But there was the matter of factness about it, like it was supposed to be there. Part of the journey. As if it is there to remind me of something. To live. To be present. A beautiful, gracious reminder of this opportunity we have. And with that, the bracing turns to warmth, to fullness. An energy that fills the void. That each moment is in itself a new opportunity. A new birth we get to begin again. And the simplest realization occurs.

That is it. This is it. I am this. This reoccurring. This birthing of each moment. 

The words flow out of me as if they have been prewritten. 

I am this moment becoming. 

I am this opportunity. 

This breath. 

This spark of light. 

This wonder.