A little Walt Whitman this morning:

“I sing the body electric,

The armies of those I love engirth me and I engirth them,

They will not let me off till I go with them, respond to them,

And discorrupt them, and charge them full with the charge of the soul.”

What is the charge of the soul?

Everything.

There is nothing that is not your charge (although you are in charge, mind you),

nothing that does not deserve your attention.

We ask for attention in funny ways sometimes.

Listen to what’s underneath the hatred and fear.

Listen for the disguised one therein, hiding, longing to be seen and held.

Learn how to pay attention,

to heed and follow the charge of the soul.

Give it, don’t pay it.

Give all your attention unconditionally to those who are asking for it,

and for those who deny what you have to give:

allow them inside, too, though they do not need your permission to enter you.

We are all helplessly inside one another, with one another,

The instant I first laid eyes on you was the instant you entered me.

Nothing I can do about that.

And why would I want to do something about it?

Why would I want to eradicate you from your heart,

banish you from anything?

That would be to deny the charge of my soul,

to deny myself, because when I live the charge,

I become the charge,

become the work of being with such that it is no longer work,

just withness,

openness,

willingness and eagerness to continue on together.

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