Dreaming of impossible menial decision making – cats, curries, clothes – and moving furniture, as familiar a feeling as breathing or speaking – in waking life, I move furniture around for novelty, for shifts in perspective, synonymously rearranging the rooms of my mind so that I might stand somewhere new and see things a little differently – this is how we grow, when we step outside our comfort for just a moment, we make room for new air to flood through the window – and oh, the courage it takes, the courage it takes to be courageous – courage that is, from David Whyte, our heartfelt participation with life – Naama today boarding a plane, I was with her on the astral runway all night – can hardly imagine the courage that it takes to step up to the edge and take flight, leaving the soft safety of this fertile soil that she’s tilled with her bare hands, fed herself and her loved ones with for two years – to fly to the land that her bones are made of but that makes her heart heavy, sometimes – but her heart, of all things, that I’ve come to know well and whose wisdom I bow to, is a compass I trust with life – her and her load lightened, pared back by two whole years, stripped to just what she came with, stuffed in the back with her beloved driving her to the gate in perhaps her very own reliable car – and the sky in this corner of earth is mourning the loss of her magic today, so I go to stand in my garden, hear the roar of the sea coming over the tops of the houses across the street that veil it from view, and I mourn with the elements, and I celebrate, this is a love like no other that we have found, again, a love that we can never lose, but the comfort of proximity that we always, always take for granted, now gone – again – I touch the earth and it’s warm from her touch, still – her flesh is made of its fruits and roots, still – with every minute now she’s unrooting herself, pulling up her fine tendrils firm but tender tugs – the rain is softening the soil, for her – the gate is drawing nearer – everything conspiring to wash away her fear so nought but her courageous heart is facing forward, toward the glittering dark – to the people, the magic, the promised land – the promised land, darling – it is waiting for you somewhere, be curious, move with eyes and heart open, and then be still – set your bags and your roots down so you can grow big and strong like one of the old trees in the forest we lived and loved by – I will be seeing you, in some strange familiar place, in subtle realms, in dreams – we’ve done this before, we’ve watched each other walk through a hundred thousand doors, never to be seen again – and then – there you are – I feel lost, my dear creature, from where I am standing – but the forest, and you, you always know where I am – I am in the place between places, have been for longer than I care to say – my going or my staying are only a little sliver of it – what matters is the matter of choice – in the face of a hundreds tiny voices, you chose something to admire –to move towards the shapeless clay with which you and your imagination are about to create worlds – my forever friend, I would happily follow your footsteps ‘til the edge of time without an ounce of shame – my Taurean temperament is not easily swayed, but your heart and your ways cannot help but inspire – go well, go bravely, go gently with yourself, for the days are long and the waves are wild – life is what it is – and then it’s something else.