Friends,
Early July. The middle of the year, when the days are full and somehow we are fuller still.
Eight minutes tonight. 8 PM your local time. Set something down for the length of this sitting: a worry, a grudge, a plan. Make a little room. See what moves into it.
Because the practice moves with the hour, it is always eight o'clock somewhere. A rolling wave, once around the Earth, every week.
Come as you are. Even full. Even holding. Even loosening.
See you later, in the silence.
Dedication: May we make a little room today for something we have been carrying too tightly.
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