Firsts.
Firsts.
They are always so important, so vital to our sense of self, to our souls, to our humanness in the face of everything.
Our first breath, our first gasp of air out of the womb, from that sheltered place to the world of endless possibilities…
Our first steps, that toddling into infinity, that glow from our faces as we, the upright souls on this planet, verge towards our own ecstasy…
Our first friend, that look, from one face to another spelling out and spilling out acceptance…
Our first lover, folded around the who of who we are…
Then there are the other firsts…
The first time we ever heard the words “I love you,” spoken to our hearts, presented on a silver platter.
The first person we ever told our real truths to.
The first time someone handed us a bouquet of flowers and told us that we mattered.
The list goes on, doesn’t it? One must start with the first word.
The old growth tree, its limbs seemingly soaring into the sky, has roots, beautiful entangled paths firmly embedded into the soft fertile deep earth below.
Look up into that tree…listen…its language is for us to learn…