Our world is built with stories.

Sometimes these stories cause suffering by pulling us apart from ourselves and each other.

The liturgist podcast helps people love more and suffer less by pulling apart the stories that pull us apart.

There's only a slight amount of wind blowing,

not even fully for the trees to shake or the leaves to shift out of pace,

but if you pay close attention, you will watch the grass sway furiously,

their hair blowing with every soft breeze affected by the subtle whisper as it shakes each blade's existence,

as I breathe.

While I lay in the grass, I watch as the trees gentle dance,

match the inhales and the exhales of my breath.

I do not have enough power to move them, these trees, I think to myself,

tracing their roots very deep into the earth,

but I do have enough power to match the movement.

Like I too am part of this piece, this ebb and flow of watching blades of grass move with the trees,

this connection of breath and movement, like the whole earth breathes with me.

I am part of this, I think to myself.

The brush of the wind kisses my arms as a blades of grass stands wildly as the leaves move with the breeze,

I am part of this too as the blades of grass single leaves all sing to me. Yes, you are.

Hey everyone, welcome to the liturgist podcast. I'm William Matthews,

I'm so excited on this episode to have someone that I honestly consider a good friend,

something I don't just say lightly to folks, Ariel is story.

And Ariel is such a dynamic poet, writer,

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