Never Alone

Sometimes you just know. Immediately. "I don't like this." You spit it out, you leave the meeting, you return the skirt to the 35%-off table.

Sometimes, you get a weird feeling but you're not sure: maybe if I add a rug and a couple of lamps and paint over the watermarks... Maybe if I study harder and tape record his lectures... You hang in there and make adjustments if you can; or maybe you just wait for things to get better.


You figure: it could just be me--I need to change. Or "this is a cosmic or spiritual lesson or test or opportunity." You remember teachings like "We create reality" and "The world around you reflects the world within you."

Sometimes you watch for signs, set up arbitrary timelines and ultimatums. "If I'm the only one on time tonight...." "If my neck still feels like this on Friday, I'll make an appointment." "If there are no window seats left, I'll know I'm not supposed to make that trip."



Sometimes you come to know. It gradually dawns on you. Or you bolt upright from a !Eureka! dream. Or you pace your way into it on the sands of the Pacific Coast. Or it comes as a resonant recognition from a film or a passage in a book or the mutterings of a mad homeless woman.

Or you say, finally, after however much internal wrangling and contemplation

Show me. I am willing to look at It now.