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Steve by Jamey Stillings
Steve Roberts
serves fellow explorers
of life’s two most important questions:
What’s going on,
and what’s the healthiest action I can take in this moment?
To this end, Steve champions
the most fear-provoking point of view
the world has ever known:
Everything is a gift,
and the business of life is discovering how come.
He finds the spirit of the universe to be
playful, loving, deep.
Besides laughter and the sharing of experience,
his expressions of this spirit include
several hundred essays,
a novel, some 2000 drawings,
countless stone sculptures
built & photographed
on his Vermont mountainside
over a quarter century, and
a portfolio of professional communication
for clients who favor a collaborator
who aspires to write like a freight train
driven by Mother Teresa.

It’s Beginning to Show

Eleven years ago when I mentioned to Dear, my beloved, that I was approaching 9500 days of sobriety, some 26 years, she said, without missing a beat, “It’s beginning to show.”   Today, the most tangible expression I keep of her dynamic presence is this photo of the quilt I had made of her clothes. 

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76 Months

Dear’s death, 76 months ago today, has transformed my life, which I’m sure was her intent, in part, compassionate lover of God that she is.  Our world together as we conceived it wasn’t deep enough.  We talked a good God is Everything, but she experienced for herself the considerable enough unfulfillment of it.  And she

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The Humor of Difficulty

There is a quality of humor that comes with seeing everything as God, and therefore is a part of our conscious awakening to that reality.  Going by my experience, underlying even our outrage is the tickling reminder that it’s no more or less than a sacred part of our soul’s path of realization.  On my

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The Celebration Part of Death

So what did this assassinated public figure named Charlie Kirk learn upon his physical demise?  What will we learn upon ours?  What would the Dalai Lama say?  Or the Pope?  Or Jesus?  Or other avatars such as the Buddha, Paramahansa Yogananda, and any saint or sage of our choosing?  What do we feel are the

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My Pal Tim Hayes Died

My pal Tim Hayes died Sunday, although the next day he visited me and guided my pen as I attempted to celebrate his delightful spirit.  He knows about such inspiration, having authored a couple of enjoyable books related to the sign on his truck that reads: “Hayes is for Horses.”

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Divine Symphony

Dear and I were married 48 years ago today.  Yesterday, a most significant drawing appeared, titled: “Me Bidding Farewell to This Incarnation (with a mouthful of polkadots, of course).”  Last Thursday marked the 6th anniversary of Dear’s physical departure.  There’s some funny coalition of forces at play, including my physical fragility, punctuated yesterday by my

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Breath and the Boston Strangler

Maybe the only question that needs resolution is “Who am I?”  Especially when the answer is my answer, “Manifestation of God.”   Not “Child of God” as so many sages say.  That doesn’t satisfy me because I infer its meaning to be something different from God, the way we are different from our parents.  I

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