I would really like to contemplate¹  the fact, that all of this was on purpose. That I can feel infinite like the color blue³,  with the tenderness of spring dew on a fuzzy green leaf in April, maybe at camp air²  where I can be a kid again, maybe then we can really learn  about⁴  us. Us meaning those who practice magic and love and stillness and allowance. Those who wouldn’t mind deconstructing reality and putting it back together until, well, forever.