preface

Lisa Nilsson, Angelico, mulberry paper

Last night at the grocery store I saw a cow's tongue. Packaged, wrapped in plastic, about the length of my forearm. It looked...like a tongue. And in that moment I became keenly aware of what I'm going to be doing in the month of April. I'm ready, and I'm not sure if Im ready.

I came home from a weekend of meditation to find that my key, and even my spare key, strangely no longer opens the back door to my house. The front door, yes, but not the door I use 99% of the time. I know this means nothing. It still feels potent with a sense of beginnings, of interesting things coming.

And I found myself before my afternoon clients waiting by the hood of my car as my mechanic threw on a new fuel pressure regulator, my heart spontaneously, silently swelling with a grace and fullness and love that had both nothing and everything to do with his black hands and the smell of citrus blossoms and the woman I didn't know who was wandering in his gardens.

I've thought about keeping a blog as I go through the course with Gil, and some friends have suggested I do the same. This may not be what either of us had in mind, and it may not continue, but it seemed like it should start now. And so it begins.