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The Pleasure of Your Presence


Last week I met my sister. I want you to see her.

I want you to see us together, with our family. My family.

Ours.


I want you to look at them, and I'm not sure why. I think it's because they're new to me and I love them. I'm figuring out how to fit into this new love, how to fit it into me.

I want to scrape along its corners and press into its hollows but it's big in ways I can't quite fathom and my body is just one body.


But if you look, too, and let in move through your body - if you share yourself with me and let me watch its light, light you - then it feels possible.


And I'm glad about that.

I'm glad I want you to crawl inside this big feeling with me. I'm glad I want company for the grief and fear and the joy and abundance, and all the combinations.

Your presence makes me feel expansive, deeply rooted. It makes me more brave and surefooted. Which makes me (I hope) a better companion for trips with you, into your big feelings.



So, thank you.

I feel so lucky to have found people who want to help each other move further and further into the wideness.

To fill and be filled with it, together.

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