I woke up feeling yucky. The weather was making me feel edgy. Minor dental surgery on my precious four legged companion had me feeling worried. A crisis call made my reserves feel drained. My dwindling days off and the start of a new job made me feel panic. The unfed flock of pigeons looking into the house made me feel uncaring.

There is no modifier for Life. There is no qualifier we can add to being alive. Even death is a life transition. The whisper gentle and yet, for me, a bit firm. “It is not, little one, about how you feel. The question is whether you feel. Life is not about feeling better or good. It is simply about feeling. Honoring all emotions. Choosing. Seeing the impermanence. Being alive.”

I watched the pigeons who don’t understand modifiers or labels. They only know that seed is always here. The image was taken on another day. One day was sunny. This day not. And yet, the image is the same. I picked up the bucket and slogged my way into the yard to spread the seed. The pigeons circled and I heard their wings. As they landed, they began to coo. They ran and circled my feet. Not knowing my aim some danced the wrong way and seed bounced off their heads.

As I walked back to the house, the rain again began to fall. The pigeons flew away. Life alive.  I stood for a moment and felt the rain. …No modifiers necessary.