I am hearing the persistent chirruping of the Carolina wren late this morning in March. Santa Fe is wounded; I am giving up its repair to the Universal Flow and letting the angels work out the kinks-as I await my life, feeling like I am “waiting in the wings” and getting that fluttering feeling in my stomach right before I go onstage. And I sense I am ready and pray that I am-yet I change and grow in every moment; there is ne’er a time in which I am not changing, evolving, and ascending. It feels good to be alive today.

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