Space

Space, the final frontier, if you are a trekie and even if you aren't.

It is the space between us that makes us who we are.

We give each other the only real things we have, ourselves. And then we back off and allow each other the space to do those things that are necessary to be ourselves. That part is often the hardest. It is also the most loving, in my humble opinion.

My joy comes in the moment, in the love and wonder, the awe and appreciation of each moment. Only when I start grasping at it do I lose it and feel sorrow, or fear. Clinging to joy is like clinging to sunshine, it just can't be done, not for real, because the joy becomes overshadowed by the fear of losing it and is lost.

The best I can do is send you light and love everytime I think of you, allow myself the joy of that. The rest is up to you.

I like to think of you joyful and at peace. I like to think of you fulfilling your dreams and desires. Part of mine are doing that, but it is not everything.

Everything is so immense! It comes to me in the whiff of fresh air in the hallway, the strange little bird song on a gray wintery day, on the pages of a book written before I was born. Everything is you and not you, me and not me. Everything is the space between the time I write, I love you always and you write I love you forever.

This living is so simply complicated, woven by some wind charmer whose threads are too fine to discern.