For all those women and men whose mothers have died, for all the women who could not have children, and for all the children whose mothers didn’t want to have…
death
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After spreading plastic and pads to ward off the dampness, a flock of robins greet me as I take my seat amidst the wet leaves. They land close by, and…
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Few generations in the history of civilization have shown more promise in their youth but been more of a disappointment in their adulthood and aging than my generation, the “Boomers,”…
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Color as thick as the clouds themselves suffuses the massive, multi-layered cumulus. The color appears almost solid, so that the substance of the clouds seems to be color itself. After…
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There’s intermittent sun late in the afternoon with a long view downstream. An hour of passive observation gathers sufficient attention to end all thinking. Without a trace of fear or…
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MeditationsUncategorized
Death Is the Only Thing That Makes Sense of Life
by Martin LeFevre 2020/02/12Toward late afternoon, the light on a high overcast day becomes white and ethereally bright. Through the bare branches and beyond the tall pines, subtle hues of blue and gray…
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The cycles of birth and death in nature fold into the timeless present as I sit on the bank overlooking the stream. When thought completely stops in undirected attention, nature…
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An old woman is standing across the narrow park road as I come down a favorite section of trail. There is something unusual about her, a quality of complete openness…