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Thank you for your letter.
I am well. It has been a trying time. But now the storm has passed and the detritus left in its wake is treasure. I reap the richness now. Scattered seeds are punching up through the hard soil. Their birth was troubled — but isn’t it from such couplings that the truly bold ones come?
Thank you for sending me this beautiful poem by Leonard Cohen. What doesn’t kill you makes you stronger, right? Love opens doors that are then impossible to slam shut.
Life is mystery. I embrace it but I don’t pretend to understand. I do believe in poems and words and sex both sacred and profane. (In the end, it’s all sacred.) That each of us is on a quest. That we can help each other along the way. That sometimes we will be used as a conduit, a way-station or a stand-in on someone else’s journey. I am not overly troubled by this; allowing it can be an act of kindness. Just add another pinch of wisdom to our pile.
Life is both fleeting and eternal. It is made of the raw unadulterated moments we share. We are not always at our best. But even broken and scarred in each other’s arms, we are still such splendid creatures.
With love,
K
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