Dear curious ones,
Being alive is really strange. There’s all the thoughts and feelings. All the contradictions that spring up. All the weird interplay between ‘acceptable normality’ and the oftentimes total fucking chaos of what life in motion looks and feels like.
But there are the times when you feel at ease, comfortable, happy to be alive, and full of love. Some people think of this feeling as ‘coming home’. I think of it as ‘being by the hearth’. It’s the same only toastier on cold days. Ahhhh.
Sidenote: quite a lot of drama might happen at the hearth too. It gets hot, bright, dark, and there may be flames. But that’s ok. Cos hearths are meant to accommodate fires without burning down the house.
I never thought of myself as a ‘spiritual person’, nor do I feel that the label makes much sense anyway. I like to engage in a spot of spiritual learning, from yoga practice to reading philosophy, to chanting. It is a fool’s journey that I begin every day, not knowing much, and trying my best to remember that.
I want to share my experience with others, as well as with firesides and trees. I want to compare notes (trees and firesides are lovely, but not so given to chatting). So, I am writing letters. From my hearth, to yours.
I am sending out letters to others who, like me, find some kind of inner exploration appealing. I am writing them for myself, but I hope other people will find them entertaining, interesting, or helpful.
If my approach or beliefs don’t resonate with you, then that’s fine. My experiences and reflections are my own, and I support the right of every person to make their own sense and/or nonsense in their own way. I make no claims about consistency or correctness, because I see my reality differently on a regular basis.
I don’t have that many answers. But I have a lot of curiosities.
So, welcome. Come and sit with me.