Belonging. I seek you that which holds a tug on my heart as the world around us dances a mystery un-sensed by your cell of perception.

Longing for becoming a part of our creation, of this Earth. Home and holy yours. You seek in the cracks of existence a way to drop into our collective hive, a mind of my own is but an illusion to keep us sane in these unpredictable times.

I hold onto seemingly endless threads. I pretend this way, or another will bring us peace and harmony, yet the thread is one. It is in this living and death of our Everyday. And as I arrive into this world, born again, I wonder how to find my kinship once more? What have we forgotten? What will bring you remembrance? If the Tree gives oxygen and homes for many; If the Wolf holds the Deer from overgrazing the Land; If the Water animates all the living it touches; What are you, Human, here for? What is the purpose of our existence?

I proceed with the quest in tracking our meaning as one I began a long time ago. These existential questions about life started when I was a child, wondering why and what for. In my adulthood, every once in a while I reflect on how my questions have changed, as the continuous flow of wind and rain sculpts the mountain peaks, the movement of days slowly shape and expose the essence of this inquiry.

-- Overture to Becoming Woven