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The last few days have been unseasonably warm here in Maine and the trees are beginning to bud.
I wonder what might happen if we held the possibility in our hearts that every person could blossom forth into aliveness at any moment?
At sixteen I became less concerned about whether I lived and more concerned about how I live.
I wonder whether there is any other way to have this experience other than recognizing that our lives are fragile (the possibility of imminent death)?
Think about who grew your food, delivered it, cooked it, served it or cleaned up after you.
I wonder how many of them we thanked?

