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The path of awakening is a slow one.

It happens as I eat my breakfast, wash the dishes and the clothes, run after kids and cats, kiss my husband.

No, thats not quite right, I don’t eat breakfast.

But the sentiment remains. The Great I Am, that which contemplates us, contemplating it, is with us every step of the way, waking, sleeping, mundane, sacred, natural, spiritual, dirty, ugly, amazing.  The art of spiritual awakening is eternal and gone in a second, the grain of sand bouncing against the glass. It etches us in our scars and our growth and it is never ever over.

The path meanders. All that matters is we keep on walking, no matter the landscape.

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