THE BROAD SPACE

Time will deliver you: It is relentless that way.  No matter what we do in the liminal spaces, we will be delivered. Off we go into toddling. Off we go into adolescence and young adulthood. Further still into middle age and beyond. If we're very lucky, time will deliver us into slowing down and then turn us towards the light. Finally, time will deliver us across the line that separates life from death. Gautama Buddha suggested meditating on death everyday. Referred to as the Maransati meditation, it is a practice meant to alleviate fear and instill a zest for this one dance. Marcus Aurelius adopted a like-minded practice. The Stoics refer to it with the Latin phrase, Memento Mori. Translation; Remember you must die. At night I often ask myself if I did well in the liminal space of today. Then I ask myself to do better, hopeful that time will deliver me into another chance. As a result of my personal practice, when someone asks me how I am, I always laugh a little. You s...

I can't remember exactly when I landed on this idea, but it happened. Before waking up to it I felt stuck in the notion that this all has to mean something. That our time should be laser focused on distilling whatever that is down to a pinpoint of dutiful and intentional purpose. What an exhausting thread to pull. The constant unraveling felt like a total mind mess. The problem with this particular agenda was that it implied I wanted to be special, to stand out, to be noticed. I can admit to this and something tells me I'm not alone... So, if we are all just waves on the same ocean, constantly crashing into each other before we make landfall and then disappear forever, where is the connective tissue? In this mindset their wasn't any. But, if we can admit that it feels scary and a little insane for a life to come and go mostly quietly, then we are more the same than not. Some of us just land louder, for better or for worse. The truth is there's a hole in every bucke...

It's an important question, I think, and asking it edges me closer to that destination. I'm not so zeroed in on geographical, familial or social notions of 'belonging' these days. I'm searching for inner ground. I think I'm looking for me. And I'm interested in being inside of this body as I constantly ask it to perform. Wanting to take care of myself, now more than ever, is a way of belonging. Is my brain firing correctly? Am I being careful with my thoughts? Do I want to belong to the way I'm thinking and working things out?  And as I age up, I want to be where I belong. I want to belong to myself. To take full ownership and responsibility for all of it. To be able to give me away, free of charge, to the people and things that I love. The notion that I am owed anything seems ridiculous so the bargaining days are over. That bubble has burst. And as I breath I'm aware that the final exhale will come; the one that will complete me, for better and for...

Sagaponack 2017 Certain days will live forever, surviving in the  atmosphere of memory. The  fullest expressions of moments passed, of moments past.  And they will change their shape as you change yours. And they will be re-remembered, over and over and over again, from wherever you are. And as the old order of things slips away, the loop is still alive. Always the same and never the same. The matter of memory is malleable, as long as the clay is still drying. Caro ©️ Caro Kalb-Marr