Return of the Beloveds

In my better moments, all of you out there in Cyberland are my Beloveds.  I haven’t met you but I know.  Plus every person I see on the street is similarly precious.  As I said, that’s what I feel on my good days.

We all want to be happy.  We all want to contribute in this world.  We all want our lives to matter.  And we want to love.

***

The corn has been high in the field out back for a month or two.  It’s created a cozy feeling on my patio, a sense of sanctuary.  I got back from Toronto a few hours ago, had something to eat and did my laundry.  Then it was off to my bedroom chair for a spell of meditation.  When my eyes opened a few minutes ago, it was dark out there in Southwestern Ontario.  And I gazed at a scene that had been hidden from me: red cars going left to right on the distant Harrietsville Drive and white ones moving right to left.  The farmer had cut down his corn.

The Beloveds had returned.  “I don’t know who you are but I love you.  Travel well to your destination.”  The feeling inside was warm and flowing.  There was a reaching out from my body, through the glass, over the stubble and into the front seats.  Communion with unseen strangers.

***

Several times a week I’m on the internet with members of the Evolutionary Collective Global Community.  Our hour together includes people from all over the world.  For a couple of weeks I hadn’t seen a friend from Ireland.  I missed her.  On Friday, as a gift, there she was on my laptop screen, along with many other rectangles filled with human beings.  There was an intake of breath as I saw her.  Even richer than the cars tonight.

Thirty minutes of our global time are devoted to practicing with one other person, determined each time by some algorithm.  I haven’t spent time with a few friends for a month or more.  Sometime last week, a fellow from California burst onto my screen … and the joy flooded me.  “It’s been too long.”  Reunions continue to blossom.

***

Cars on roads, folks on laptops, a Belmontonian walking through the door of the Diner after being away for awhile … all blessings to me.  And I need to realize that when I return to the school where I volunteer after being absent for several days, I’m a blessing to those kids.

We touch each other

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