Temporal

It is important to hold the understanding that you are going through something. What feels like the end, what feels like forever, is not. It is a stone on the path.

There is a stone circle on Tohono O’odham land, in front of the Catholic mission, with all directions marked, but the paths from each are non-linear, almost meandering, dropping off into spaciousness – one cannot see a tangible meeting of the paths. There are no neat quadrants, no straight lines.

It feels like the open sky or the deep ocean.
If feels like everything exists there. As if in the dust of that implied center is vaguely visible the story of the universe.
And when the wind comes up, the story plays there, in the cyclone.