Hear all you who wrestle with life’s meaning: that which is sovereign in the universe, unruled by king or corporation, the breath of life in all things, the web of reciprocity, this is our one and only guide. Blessed are the tides of living that draw my body to rest and my soul to dreaming. Let me lay the work of the world in the open hands of those still awake to the west of me, place in their palms the sickle and the spade, the needle and the shuttle, the pen and the ladle, the cell phone and the keyboard.Let me lie down in peace, as the mending of life rolls west and westward, hand to hand, village to village, through city after city, across fields and forests, deserts and oceans,moving upstream, against the planetary spin, for the dance of liberation never ceases, but keeps circling the world. As I lie down, others rise up in a wave of intention and effort that moves in the wake of the sun, along the paths of daylight.So let my sleep be cradled in trust that others will carry what must be carried. Let my rest be unbroken by troubling thoughts or illusions of separation. Let me go down into sleep as into the arms of a beloved. And let me rise in peace. Let me awaken to the light of a new day, and receive the work for which I was born back into my hands from those to the east of me, transformed by the many who have hammered and stitched and stirred while I slept, and whether the sun shines unveiled or is swathed in cloud, oh, radiant unruled life-force of the universe, may I behold the splendor of your indwelling light, which illuminates the world.