This is a remarkable day, because you are alive to see it. The day wants you to be here.
The floor under you is glad to be of service. The air wants to be breathed by you. The sun could not shine if you were not here for it to shine on today. Allow them to want you.
The floor, the air, the sun are all speaking to you, before you meet a dog or a person or a plant. They say, You are, and Here I am with you as this.
Surrounding all that, you are required by the larger context that holds these supposedly inanimate parts, just as it holds you and all other beings (dog, plant, lover, angel).
So when you die, you are still required by what insists on the sun and planets and stars and which, even failing those, will persist with each of us as essential companions when space and time have winked out like soap bubbles.
How is it that we are desired and that we, in spite or because of obstacles and antipathies, want to be here? What is this entire field of mutual longing and presence?
It is the Word-World, or logos-world, the world as amazed praise, of which we are each necessary and eternally distinct expressions. Its too-latent reality accounts for our steady disappointment.
Next week: starting in with the Tao. Thanks to Cathy Fracasse’s sleuthing from long ago, we know about the interactive and helpful site,