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Dedication: I think of Webu’s sick-bed inside his dwelling, the renovated meditation hut next door that we could share. Beyond a devotional exercise, which is present, the following explores an underlying feeling of strangeness, or perhaps it’s an unfamiliarity that doesn’t feel strange, or unpleasant to experience. It reaches into a gratitude that wants to be precisely expressed.
It hurts to confront myself.
It’s not rainbows and butterflies.
There are parts of me that I don’t want to look at…that I’ve protected…that I hide from the world and from myself.