Sometimes I feel that I’m right on the verge of “getting my shit together.” I can just about touch some kind of shift to a different level of perception, some kind of expansion — but I can’t quite see what it is.

Then a friend dies, and my knee is stiff and cranky, and my eyes are gritty from allergies, and I’m back in the every day world of “what’s it all about?” So I take a breath and look around, and I remember something about gratitude, and about generosity, and love. And I begin again to live my life grounded in those qualities. And that’s me getting my shit together.