She Fell in Love, with Life.

The sun tumbled behind the mountains, melting in a display of buttery good intentions.

"Kiss me," she said---no, she demanded, to the universe, her arms wide open, her voice wailing passionately. 

She screamed it to the stars. To the wispy, hang-nail fragment of the crescent moon. To the swaying lips of the raspberry-colored tulips. 

To fall in love with life itself is no subtle thing. 

It's like a boom-boom-boom firework grand finale that's also a juicy beginning. 

It's like the flushed sweetness of ruby lips kissing over bails of soft hay. 

It's like ancient dust being blown from the darkest places inside us. 

To fall in love with life is no subtle thing. And that's exactly what was happening. 

After years of hating life, blaming life, hiding from life in the darkest, most grotesque shadows, she was falling in love. 

Oh yes. 

She tumbled into a wild love affair with moments, with mornings, with juicy, dripping days. 

But it was no ungrounded, airy-fairy fantasy. 

It was real. 

It was like peeling back bullshit to reveal our natural state---

Our natural state of relaxed allowing. 

Soaking up moments like a sponge. 

Bearing witness to the way we unfold, unfurl, at every second. 

To fall in love with life is to trust ourselves enough to unhook from the frantic, addicting buzz of busyness and 


In the energy-waves of the present moment. 

To fall in love with life,

"It's simple. Elegant. Dynamic." 

That's what the billboards would read. 

But we don't need billboards or any shining, glittering thing. 

To fall in love with life itself, to reach out to silence, to reach inward, to swim in our tears, to simply to brave enough to be here---

It is no dainty, lace-lined crinolinne bouquet. 

It's real as sweat. Real as the hot dirt underneath our feet. 

"I fucking love you," she said, to no one but her own heart, the soft breeze, and the chirping birds. 

The story doesn't end in a neat, pretty bow. 

It doesn't end at all. 

To fall in love with life

Is only



What other doors would open? 

What beauty is it possible to taste? 

What wonders can we embrace? 

To fall in love with life

Is only

The beginning.

The juicy, blooming story

Gets written

Every day

In the

Ever-changing pen of our



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