We are all so hard on ourselves. We didn’t. We can’t. We won’t. And then there’s an even worse coda: we never will. What’s funny and surprising to me, after the birth of AHAVA, how much I’ve thought about what life is, what life really means. Not that I have any idea. I don’t. But I see her and it all seems so simple. Naively simple. Isn’t life about breath, and love?
Of course there is more. There is the world. There is unmitigated evil that takes so many forms. And injustice. And death. And war. Of course there is so much more.
What strikes me now is how we choose, each of us, to live with what we know. What becomes our subject, our object, our life.
For me, when I try hard to be honest about the connecting links, about what I believe and why, about what I know and what I don’t, what I know is we