I did a little writing on our trip. Here's a few nibbles:
I had noticed mostly our family's unconditional definition of love, our failed tries. What I felt instead last night was the intricate key that fit into that lock; a heart signature- the beautiful and specialized application of affection. The way the stained glass guild of Chartres Cathedral created a red that cannot be recreated- its expression was a mastery of that group, and it left with them.
When it comes to intent, Relaxation is Queen, and Trying Hard is Duchess. There's no such thing as silence. There is no such thing as nothingness. Releasing the fast furious waves of a certain frequency, we fall into another wavelength. At first its pulse is so long, slow, and gentle that it seems absent. Is everything dead? It absolutely must be, but somehow patience given to nothingness uncovers an aliveness. An aliveness of such immense pulse that it's called subtle.
A kind of living sensitivity- I imagine that when the anhingas spread their wings to the sun- I imagine they are both sensing the ancient heartbeat, and embracing it.