Leaving all that behind, as it was swept away by the tsunami of an acute illness that became a chronic illness, I found myself simplifying.
Until all that was left was Zen, poetry, words and white space.
The past 10 years, I have travelled as a nomad, connecting the dots as they appeared under my feet.
Sitting zazen in forests, qigong by lakes, climbing and running down mountains, in England, Wales, France, Spain, Portugal, Italy and Greece.
Letting the birds, wind, snow and mountains write their own poetry, simply serving as pencil and paper.
Nothing is ever missing, nothing is ever broken, nothing is.
No need to let go, no need to hold on, no need.
This is the way.