I open the door.
I see a sauna, empty space, hot air. Steam.
I step inside. I am going on a trip within.
I sit. I am alone and not alone.
The aromas of lavender, white sage, and eucalyptus spiral around me in wisps of smoke.
Sweat pours from my pores. I am here. There is nowhere else to go.
I wonder about going on a dark retreat for a few days. What would happen?
What would I see in the pitch black?
What voices, what wind chimes would I hear?
I drink the tea. I eat the mushroom.
My consciousness expands and contracts, beating like my heart, filling and emptying like my lungs.
Whirling in wondrous ways.
I am not sweating anymore, I am flying. I can go anywhere.
I open the door to the treehouse. Here lies the meditation shrine room. Inside, a great thangka sparkles from the wall. White Tara smiles down upon us. There are 10 Tibetan bowls of various sizes. Huge crystals beam their clear light at my heart–center. There are Buddhas and more Buddhas. There is Jesus and Ganesh. There are my parents, grandparents, ancestors, my brothers and sisters, and friends. There are my kitties and dogs and even beloved childhood hamsters.
There is my partner. There is our daughter, and her daughter, and her daughter’s daughter. There are gorgeous bouquets of tropical flowers, growing impossibly out of the stones on the ground. There is music—all my favorite songs.
There is love in the room. Love, patience, peace, and presence. There is gratitude for every person, animal, thing, and feeling in the space.
Love is a field, not a form.
The doorway to love is never closed. The master key is within our heart.
There is joy here and sorrow, and everything is alright—even when it’s not.
“Let’s not commit to a future together.
The future is so unknown, and we are so fluid, and tired of pretending
that we know.
Our thoughts and feelings are ever-changing, uncontrollable, like a wild ocean of love.
~ Jeff Foster
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