Roots grow and crawl from your toes, legs burr and burn like industrial machines, the back is resisting unknown forces, there are vines of energy connecting your little finger to your back to your ankles and back around again, your shoulders melt and tiny water droplets fall off your wrists and fingers like collected dew drops and your head is sparkling fairy dust. You are in the constant grace and presence of flow and bewilderment.
Something was calling out to me, I knew it. Funny, I hadn’t even started with my “insight” meditation practice but, deep down, I knew for sure that something was calling. And that I needed to take heed.
Faith is not fullness, but emptiness. It is not in the solid ground that awaits when we leap, but in the space in between. It is not in the hope that we wish to always cling to, but in the despair that drugs us into a constant search for hope in the many places it likes to flutter about. Faith is never in the knowing for sure, but always in the unconscious bewilderment and wonder for all that ever is and may or may not be.