so fetchable

Sunday morning usual stuff – meditations, readings, coffees, Pages, exercises, yummy brekkie foods, and off on a way long walk, upon which I was a walking host to four kitties and five racoons. Then back to 16th and hop in the Camry and directly to the coffee shop for coffee and vast Red Sox stories, then into Whole Foods for two unsweetened, crunchy, you-have-to-stir-it peanut butters and two cans of iron-rich Cannellini beans, then back to the car, stuff loaded into the bag, and I’m about to hop in and glance up at the amazingly blue sky and glorious white giant clouds, and – I can’t help myself – I close the door and lock it and head off on another walk, on which I haven’t traveled 50 yards when I come upon this…….

which immediately jumps up to the top of the pops of my all-time favorite bumper stickers on this planet, and here’s why:

I make genuine efforts not to talk about my ‘practice’ here in this blog or out there in the world for three reasons – 1) No one gives a crap; 2) It’s kind of a keep-it-a-secret thing as per the Ancestors; and 3) Every single time I talk about my practice anywhere at all I feel the teeniest of diminishment in it. And, if there was, in fact, both a good and a bad, that’s bad.

And yet, oola oola oola, I’m just dying to tell you that if I had 10,000 years in which to do it, I could never find any words to really, seriously, most importantly talk about my practice anywhere near as close as the bumper sticker that fetched me on a shiny, happy Sunday morning does.