Walking in the woods after some time away, I was struck by a memory of the same woods years ago.
It was like hitting a chord on an instrument. When a chord is sounded, there is an inner sense of perfection, of synchronicity of time and space.
And here, all the elements came together, the smell, the sight, the weather, to elicit a single, clear memory.
It rushes forward organically as a full body awareness of attune-ment.
Same with my memory.
It rises up and captures my mind, senses and heart. Pulsing together to blend into one coherent stream of consciousness.
I sigh with relief.
I am here now and am there then.
No distinction.
One clear chord of disparate notes.
Letters to the Universe 