My head is filled with holiday energy, busy and chaotic, bright and unpredictable. I touch the stone like a bead on a mala and the chaos lets go. I return to myslef, touching.
Each of my meditations have been like one breath, one touch, one in a string of touchings. This fraction of my life has more continuity than much of the rest of it.
Each of my meditations have been like one breath, one touch, one in a string of touchings. This fraction of my life has more continuity than much of the rest of it.
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