the meaning of life

to find reverence for our own consciousness. it's as simple and as difficult as that.

to hold it up to the sun and marvel its facets, bloom hungry contemplation at what is contained on each of its planes. and when its unknowable enormity begins to dawn, to bow our bodies, bow our egos, bow our small selves at our own bared feet and to offer up our joy.

it is to make art with abandon and to rest deeply without shame, to slow to the pace of our own heartbeat and match to it the rhythm of our step. it is stripping naked before a black ocean for a midnight swim, and tying knot after knot in the anchor line of our own breath so that we may find our way back when we are lost.

it is finding love in dark hate, peace in the violent, agency in stillness, beauty in the bereft.

because when we see our own, all else reveals and then it is easy, so easy, to live.