this is day one

Day One of this day, night one of this night. A space for me to write, like I've written with hand and pen for 30 years, now pecking keys instead. Narcissus stems poke out in sixteen directions, aglow from the light of an ivory pillar and a white taper, and when I lean in their scent reminds me no words could taste the way they smell. Pleasure is to feel. To feel is to bask in being human.

At one time I'd have wanted hundreds of people to read my words. Today if eight of you do, and through reading you feel more of the Love you are, tonight I will fly in my dreams.

An ascended master once was asked what s/he missed most about having a human experience. Without hesitation, "Sex." And then, "...the senses." And then, a laugh. Nothing really missed, just a thankful memory of pleasure, embodied.

And though I might question how anything could be missed in a state of unlimitedness, I'll rest accepting that the joy of living in Love with the senses is Heaven on Earth. In my Life's moments of feeling the most in touch with who we really ARE, there arises only one urge: to be happy. And for me, that means delighting in the senses. Seeing the world as innocent, forgiven and healed, what room is there for me to want anything else but happiness -- for myself and for e.v.e.r.y.o.n.e?

Lusa snores on her bed, shooting calm from my ears to my brain, oh favorite sound of my beloved dog snoring... deep in a dream while her mom pecks to lay these words. My joy is yours. May your joy be as you are, and were born.

Free.