I'm swimming in a mirror...

The only choice we have as we mature is how we inhabit our vulnerability, how we become larger and more courageous and more compassionate through our intimacy with disappearance. Our choice is to see it as generous citizens of loss, robustly and fully, or conversely, as misers and complainers, reluctant and fearful, always at the gates of existence, but never bravely and completely attempting to enter, never wanting to risk ourselves, never walking fully through the door.

You can build walls all the way to the sky and he will find a way to fly above them. You can try to pin him down with a hundred thousand arms, but he will find a way to resist. And there are many out there, more than you think. People who refuse to stop believing. People who refuse to come to earth. People who love in a world without walls, people who love into hate, into refusal, against hope, and without fear. Those that realise that there are battles worth dying for, and that death itself is not to be avoided, but welcomed. For it is coming. Coming for our memories and our faith. Where will he be to answer the call?