With Holding, the Hollow Becomes Hollowed

Weeping Under the Willow

There’s a hollowness to grief. An emptiness. A something that was and is no more.

Emptiness doesn’t exist without boundaries. Without holding. Without feeling the loss of what is not.

We meet at boundaries. We come and go. Hello; Good-bye. Good-bye; Hello.

Our meditation garden is a hallowed nest within the larger Story Garden. Its floor is the ground. …

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