Done with Mystery

can I love without mystery?

can I love when it's obvious, when it's easy, when it's right in front of me?

can I love when there's no question, when there's no uncertainty, simply transparency?

can I love with laughter and play, with discovery and learning, with being in this material world?

can I love on a trip, in the forest, in my house, at the lake, close by, far away, playing, working, resting?

I am afraid that I will always need mystery in order to be interested.

Overflow

There's something refreshing and new about 2022. I'm not sure what it is. There's a lightness in my being that I've not felt in a long time. Perhaps I just needed that much rest, that much nothing. Maybe the company of old friends by the fire with days of no reception or technology unlocked the dark dungeon in which I had put my shining self away. Could there be a certain length of time that allows me to get to empty so I may fill my cup again? I had overflowed, overwhelmed. I had poured over, helpless on my side, wondering when I'd ever get back up. I was depleted and frail.

But something, somehow, brought me back to standing. Empty. Upright. Ready to be filled again.