IT is…

… simple
… tender
… the image of a tree against the sky through my sunroof while stuck on the 405 freeway
… the single tear that rolls down my cheek when my meditation goes deep
… my dear friend’s kitten’s toes
… the water wheel of activity in my mind that churns even when I am far from the river
… the last gasp of breath and then the release during my mother’s passing
… the realization that my family’s laughter would not be any sweeter if we lived in a bigger house or had nicer countertops
… unchanging
… my husband’s eyes and how they look at me
… the wave and smile from a construction worker as I pass the detour
… my daughter’s fingertips
… chocolate
… being called young lady by the guy at Coffee Bean
… the unexpected delight and surprise at the synchronicities around me
… when I am hit deep to the core by Truth
… the older woman’s warm hand as I help her over the curb
… the voice that allows me to see my path
… my son’s jokes
… the forgiveness I afford myself when I forget
… anything
… our bed
… our home
… knowing the perfect thing to say even when I am convinced I don’t
… the gratitude for all this
… the space between the spaces and the spaces themselves
… the silence in the noise
… the voice in the silence
… effortless
… available
… present
… me
… you
… the knowledge that there is no difference between the two
… in all
… as all
… all.

Alison Martin

Alison Martin -- wife, mom, Emmy-award winning actress, writer, chocoholic. Bronx Italian, daughter of Pultizer Prize winning reporters, who also identifies as L.A. Irish. Shout outs: Dan, Emilia, Brady, pooches - LuLu & Ted, friends, Mother Earth, serendipity, peace, VIPHS, Boldfaced Secret, living life like your socks feel real good.

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