I’ve been thinking about my last post, and how without realizing it, I’ve accepted that I “can’t” be high on life. Why? Maybe feeling keyed up and agitated has to go, but not my wonder and appreciation for life. I think the contrast of how broken I felt, cracked open, against the backdrop of awareness of life helped me connect to it. “It” being wonder, a sense of life, of synchronicity and oracles. So maybe the edge is not as sharp and obvious because I’m not sitting in the shell anymore, but I think I want to refuse to believe that I can’t still be in touch with it.

I remembered to ask for an oracle this morning as I meditated. I cracked the window open while I drank my coffee because I wanted to hear the birds tweeting and chirping, it is such a sweet sound. I looked up the word “tweet” and the on-line Oxford dictionary tells me it means the chirp of a small or young bird. I’m that young bird emitting a chirp to the Universe and the immediate reply is an ever so slight cool and gentle caress of air against my skin and the rosemary growing in a pot at my window sill waving hello.