a reach towards enlightenment in 3 (new york) minutes. v-log deux!

It’s not what you do, it’s how you do it.  #graceisthenewsuccess No one (that is decent, or that matters) cares…

She enters and the Love is palpable.  Waves begin to rock my body.

Picture the shore—any shore—water lapping in, over and again, but it’s not a distant shore or water, it’s your body and the waves are glittered sparklers of warmth coursing through every cell, nonstop.  It feels like drugs.

In short, it feels awesome.

I catch a glimpse of Her, and involuntary tears spring.

My eyes well, and these are not discreet, pretty tears, two-inches down my right cheekbone at a moonlit angle.  These are cannonballs; face tipped forward, puddles forming on my silky patterned pants.

Lips wobbly, I press them quiet.  Her orange clad, right hand man takes center stage, leading a meditation, urging to us go in, with a long drawn-out tone that I used to think was annoying; now its drama reads as pretty apt.

Apparently my raw Facebook post the other day posed some confusion: I’ve always been one to be completely…