Sunshine, Wind, and I

         When I look in the mirror, I don’t see sunshine and wind, and yet, in a sense, that is what’s there. The atoms that swirl in sunshine and wind are the same ones that shape my bones and blood. The atoms in my bloodstream were made as many billions of years ago as those in the sun I saw rising outside our house this morning, and the timeless winds are no older than the calcium I carry inside me. Sunshine and wind and I are inseparable pieces of the single, immeasurable universe. We three – and everything else – mix and mingle as surely as the breezes across our yards, as surely as the seamless rays of sunshine. The separate person I seem to see in the mirror is no more separate than one swirl of the wind is separate from another, or one shaft of sunlight is separate from another. We shine and swirl together, sunshine and wind and I and everything.