our compassion is as natural as the blooming of a flower - one bud giving way to a new becoming, then received fully by the sky. This is not a willful act, there's no defiant letting go to reach a state of blossom. It's simply life, the innate wisdom of a seasonal reach, everything surrendered in its own length of time. This is life displayed through infinite compassion, one appearance parting to the next order seen, a full embrace of exactly what is, even in the moment of its changing. We are no less seasonal, and life too offers us this same embrace - we are accepted exactly as we are, even through our moment to moment changing. It's what we are, life, in the infinite compassion of being.
~
Peace,
Eric
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