This is a page in a sketchbook I kept back in 2004.

I rarely fill a sketchbook completely, so sometimes (like the other day),
I pull them out to tear out some clean pages for a current art journal.
Right now I’m working on an altered journal.

I opened the old sketchbook to this page,
and found myself pausing in that sweet, beautiful sorrow of love & gratitude for the people in my life that…

were always meant to be there,
even if only for a time.

Of course, every person is – I do believe that.

But there are some who speak the same heart language as us.
It’s different.

{I don’t use that word lightly}

And, as Life is,
Time passes,
and people do, too – in many measurable, ordinary ways
that can unleash rivers of mixed-up emotion.

I like to remember to pause on those shorelines
and take a breath around me,
and a drink to see,
how it really feels
when the ego’s tangible tools of measurement are set aside
for the deeper truth,
the stuff of relations,
the clarity of dreams.

And I find every time
that how it really feels
is perpetually Still {and}
Wholly Connected.