I am standing on the warm sand watching the waves eat my feet when the thought bubbles up:
The past is done.
It was one of those simple, profound statements that shake you out of stupor.
A few friends and I were out of town for the weekend and we had just spent a glorious day — a godly day, really — frolicking in the wilderness along the beach, hanging out in ancient trees and reveling in our animal magic. It was one of those afternoons that felt endless, the way the world would unfold for me as a child with nowhere better to be; dialed into the moment acutely and completely.
Lost and free. Present and endless.
We had given ourselves up wholly to nature’s epic cathedral. Instinct guided us through the forest, along the ridge, past the cows, and into the wind. There is no need for a clock when you’re completely tuned into the universe; the information simply drops in when it’s time to shift.
What shocked me awake in that moment was experiencing this truth as a numinous density that passed through my entire body, leaving me more spacious now that it had left. After so many months in the cosmic washing machine, an old energetic program had been released. The feeling was like a thick fog scraping dust from my leaves, revealing the green underneath.
