Without the sparkle in your eye, are you able to see as clearly?
I was in car accident last night. I won't go into to many details here but I did get hit more than once, the second time t-boned on my (the drivers) side. I am so blessed to not only have survived but to have done so with minimal injuries. Although as each hour post accident passes, I become more and more sore, barely able to open my mouth, overwhelmed with the trauma and the beauty of it all, I cry tears of gratitude along with tears of fear.
Minutes before the accident I thought to myself, "I don't feel it. I don't feel connected. I don't feel purpose. I can't feel mystery!" My heart cried out for the ability to listen, almost angrily. Moments later I'm spinning around the freeway like a top in slow motion and now, I have battle wounds on my warrior like face. I couldn't stop shaking, my mouth seemed to not stop bleeding. Shaking bleeding, laughing, crying, making friends along the way with one of my best friends by my side, I thought of my dear sweet love, of my life and the life I've yet to live.
Death is one of the few certainties in this life. Any of us could
leave this world, at any moment. The car accident I experienced
yesterday could have easily taken my life. I am not afraid of dying, I'm
afraid of not living.
When I am not connecting I am not living. When I am not spending time in nature, I do not feel alive. When I am not helping others, I am empty. When I am not with her, I feel alone.
This is a difficult time. As my friend drove me home from the hospital, Owl flew out in front of us. Owl has been ever present in my life the past couple of years and has taught me so much, including the ability to see clearly in the darkness.
Love and Gratitude
Sunday, December 9, 2012
Wednesday, October 31, 2012
Remember Me?
The ocean causes my heart to sing and as the sea breeze kisses my skin I thank God that I'm alive. I dance among the waves, my body as fluid as your words. I long to dive in and let the vastness pull me under, but alas, I know I have more work to do and more love to know.
I find it curious that I have come back to such a place. This place that, not long ago, met my grief and did not let go. This city that rubbed me raw, worked me to the core, spun me around and spit me right back out. The ocean received my tears then, now she holds me in joy and light, bursting at the seams.
I return older, not so much with age but as one who holds the wisdom of grief and the knowledge of the courage that shines in love.
I find it curious that I have come back to such a place. This place that, not long ago, met my grief and did not let go. This city that rubbed me raw, worked me to the core, spun me around and spit me right back out. The ocean received my tears then, now she holds me in joy and light, bursting at the seams.
I return older, not so much with age but as one who holds the wisdom of grief and the knowledge of the courage that shines in love.
Friday, October 19, 2012
Loving the Unknown
As I stirred awake this morning it took me several moments to recognize that I am no longer in Salt Gulch. The slam of a drawer or door had me feeling confused. There is nothing that would make that sound in or around the tent I slept in for six and a half months. I was surprised by this confusion since it's actually been several days since I left the place I most recently knew to be home.
Although I am blessed to have a great place to stay, at the house of my brother and niece, I do miss living on the land. I miss the cry of coyote as I go to sleep, I miss the starlit sky and the birds come to life in the morning. Hell, I even miss peeing outside.
Even so, as I left the Salt Gulch and drove out of the town that I'm completely in love with, I knew it was time for me to step away, for however long, it's important for me to show up in the 'real world'. It's important for me to be able to show up anywhere. If I can't do that, then what have I done all of this work for? I must continue to walk the mystical path with practical feel.
Some of you have expressed curiosity as to where I am and what is coming up next for me. I am currently and temporarily in Salt Lake City. Tomorrow I will head to Park City for a few days. I'm looking forward to the workshop with Theo and my friends. I'm excited to continue to be in community with others that support me and have similar objectives.
As for what is next I do not know. I have some idea and I also know that I have some very important decisions to make. It is interesting to be with all of this and at the same time, coming out of an incredibly beautiful experience full of profound stories. So I maintain a trust in myself, a gentleness as I integrate. And although I'm not sure as to my next best step, whatever that is I will work to incorporate the things that I have learned. I must continue to live my gifts, to live with an open heart (as much as it hurts sometimes), and to live in authenticity.
Thank you all for your concern, love and support.
Although I am blessed to have a great place to stay, at the house of my brother and niece, I do miss living on the land. I miss the cry of coyote as I go to sleep, I miss the starlit sky and the birds come to life in the morning. Hell, I even miss peeing outside.
Even so, as I left the Salt Gulch and drove out of the town that I'm completely in love with, I knew it was time for me to step away, for however long, it's important for me to show up in the 'real world'. It's important for me to be able to show up anywhere. If I can't do that, then what have I done all of this work for? I must continue to walk the mystical path with practical feel.
Some of you have expressed curiosity as to where I am and what is coming up next for me. I am currently and temporarily in Salt Lake City. Tomorrow I will head to Park City for a few days. I'm looking forward to the workshop with Theo and my friends. I'm excited to continue to be in community with others that support me and have similar objectives.
Thank you all for your concern, love and support.
Wednesday, October 10, 2012
Re-membering True Nature
I look up through the clouds
Reach my calloused hand toward the stars
Cause this life, it's no longer than my arm
Wind rushes through my veins, causing me to sway
All that's in my heart, can no longer be kept at bay
Six months flew by so quickly and may as well have been a lifetime. So many stories, I do not dare repeat for my heart is still digesting. As much as I love this place, it feels good to know that I will be stepping away soon, however briefly or long, knowing that I need to integrate and be with all that has gone on. At the same time, there is a sadness in the preparation. As I climbed the hill to my tent in the starlight, my heart welled up. Have you ever been held by place? I've been held here, as I dove deeper into living my gifts, into loving fully, into the path of re-membering.
I went to my sit spot this morning. The creek is unusually high, higher even than in the Spring. I remember I used to sit and listen to it gurgle, it seemed as though it was speaking to me. As I sat, I would listen intently to what it had to say. Water speaks without words. I felt comfort in listening this morning, the full creek sounding almost frantic, met the panic in my heart.
The season has been filled with dreams of incomplete circles, dreams of seeds. There are stories of Deer, Owl, Hawk and many more beings. My longing for community and deep connection was met here in profound ways, and helped me begin heal old wounds around community and rejection. New ways of loving. I wonder how we survive loving so many so fully in so many ways. I thank my heart for breaking open in such a way that has allowed me to experience such love, with all of the grief and joy that is wrapped up in such love.
I marvel at the many, amazing musicians I have come into contact with. Who knew, in such a small town? This land seems to call out to those with incredible talent. I've enjoyed many a campfire, barn dance, house concert or spontaneous ditty. What a blessing, to connect with others through music, to fully see and feel a performer. I thought of listing all of them here, but knew I would miss someone. Thank you all for sharing, you're an inspiration to me.
Of course there is the farm. Digging beds, planting seeds, building, laughing, arguing, pounding a hammer with frustration, delicately and lovingly placing seeds in the ground. Mimicking nature through patterns and observation.
Beautiful and grief ridden experiences processing animals, honoring them while doing so. Primitive pottery, medicinal herbs, sleeping in a cave, building fire.
All of these stories have brought with them bigger dreams, deeper knowing and greater responsibility. I could not possibly go out into the world and not share my gifts and what I have learned and remembered. I do not expect it to be easy, I've heard it said that living your gifts is not always living your bliss. It is however, what feeds my heart.
Reach my calloused hand toward the stars
Cause this life, it's no longer than my arm
Wind rushes through my veins, causing me to sway
All that's in my heart, can no longer be kept at bay
Six months flew by so quickly and may as well have been a lifetime. So many stories, I do not dare repeat for my heart is still digesting. As much as I love this place, it feels good to know that I will be stepping away soon, however briefly or long, knowing that I need to integrate and be with all that has gone on. At the same time, there is a sadness in the preparation. As I climbed the hill to my tent in the starlight, my heart welled up. Have you ever been held by place? I've been held here, as I dove deeper into living my gifts, into loving fully, into the path of re-membering.
I went to my sit spot this morning. The creek is unusually high, higher even than in the Spring. I remember I used to sit and listen to it gurgle, it seemed as though it was speaking to me. As I sat, I would listen intently to what it had to say. Water speaks without words. I felt comfort in listening this morning, the full creek sounding almost frantic, met the panic in my heart.
The season has been filled with dreams of incomplete circles, dreams of seeds. There are stories of Deer, Owl, Hawk and many more beings. My longing for community and deep connection was met here in profound ways, and helped me begin heal old wounds around community and rejection. New ways of loving. I wonder how we survive loving so many so fully in so many ways. I thank my heart for breaking open in such a way that has allowed me to experience such love, with all of the grief and joy that is wrapped up in such love.
I marvel at the many, amazing musicians I have come into contact with. Who knew, in such a small town? This land seems to call out to those with incredible talent. I've enjoyed many a campfire, barn dance, house concert or spontaneous ditty. What a blessing, to connect with others through music, to fully see and feel a performer. I thought of listing all of them here, but knew I would miss someone. Thank you all for sharing, you're an inspiration to me.
Of course there is the farm. Digging beds, planting seeds, building, laughing, arguing, pounding a hammer with frustration, delicately and lovingly placing seeds in the ground. Mimicking nature through patterns and observation.
Beautiful and grief ridden experiences processing animals, honoring them while doing so. Primitive pottery, medicinal herbs, sleeping in a cave, building fire.
All of these stories have brought with them bigger dreams, deeper knowing and greater responsibility. I could not possibly go out into the world and not share my gifts and what I have learned and remembered. I do not expect it to be easy, I've heard it said that living your gifts is not always living your bliss. It is however, what feeds my heart.
Tuesday, October 2, 2012
Melodic Days
I was doing some research for a performance theater I am taking part in and found a journal entry from this Summer:
June 28, 2012
The heat persists and seems to set me into slow motion. Afternoons spent in a daze, thoughts melodic yet incomplete. I can't help but take siesta at the hottest part of day, coming to life in the cool of night, re-membering through dance, love and laughter. Each morning I watch the sun rise with fascination, as my stiff hands unfold I ignore the idea that I may have arthritis. My feet are raw but try as I might I can only get myself to wear shoes for an hour or two. Even as I enjoy the quiet I wonder where the others have gone. I long to connect with my people and know that I would not find them all in the same place.
___
Although those few hot weeks experienced in early Summer have long since passed, this journal entry speaks to I am feeling right now. With the end of the Permaculture Design Course I feel as though I am coming out of a dream and once again I find myself in a melodic daze. Yesterday I slept for three hours in the afternoon and was ready for bed again at 8:30. Today as I worked to prepare the garden beds for winter, my body felt slow and heavy, thoughts scattered, love going out to the beautiful beings I was privileged to spend an intense and beautiful fourteen days with. Even half of the apprentices are gone, it's just me and the boys.
For a moment today I felt a strong desire to pack up and leave. So much has gone on here, so many stories and I think in knowing that I am not staying for the winter I felt like rushing the good bye. Then as I went to rehearsal and Yahel and I practiced our piece and I felt the intensity of it I was reminded that it is not time yet to pack up and stories will continue to unfold here in my favorite place. In gratitude I wind down for the night, continuing to ask for guidance and to maintain presence.
June 28, 2012
The heat persists and seems to set me into slow motion. Afternoons spent in a daze, thoughts melodic yet incomplete. I can't help but take siesta at the hottest part of day, coming to life in the cool of night, re-membering through dance, love and laughter. Each morning I watch the sun rise with fascination, as my stiff hands unfold I ignore the idea that I may have arthritis. My feet are raw but try as I might I can only get myself to wear shoes for an hour or two. Even as I enjoy the quiet I wonder where the others have gone. I long to connect with my people and know that I would not find them all in the same place.
___
Although those few hot weeks experienced in early Summer have long since passed, this journal entry speaks to I am feeling right now. With the end of the Permaculture Design Course I feel as though I am coming out of a dream and once again I find myself in a melodic daze. Yesterday I slept for three hours in the afternoon and was ready for bed again at 8:30. Today as I worked to prepare the garden beds for winter, my body felt slow and heavy, thoughts scattered, love going out to the beautiful beings I was privileged to spend an intense and beautiful fourteen days with. Even half of the apprentices are gone, it's just me and the boys.
For a moment today I felt a strong desire to pack up and leave. So much has gone on here, so many stories and I think in knowing that I am not staying for the winter I felt like rushing the good bye. Then as I went to rehearsal and Yahel and I practiced our piece and I felt the intensity of it I was reminded that it is not time yet to pack up and stories will continue to unfold here in my favorite place. In gratitude I wind down for the night, continuing to ask for guidance and to maintain presence.
Sunday, September 23, 2012
See You Later
The season winds down and even as we welcome friends to the farm, the fresh Autumn air brings with it the resounding notes of good-bye or 'see you later' as my friends begin to trickle out. I spent some time in the arms of one such friend last night who is heading East for the winter to take care of his family. He has been a profound part of my journey and I his, both of us holding the awareness that through our brief connection, we left and imprint on each other and are both forever changed. Surprisingly, I did not feel sad for words not left unsaid or feelings unexplored, but a deep, deep gratitude for the Mystery, growth, and gifts of seeing this other and of being seen.
A favorite question I and the other apprentices at True Nature Farm get asked is "What are you doing next?" I've been asked this question before I even arrived here and I've got to admit, I still don't know the answer. Although there are options (Peru, Canada) I am feeling called to stay in the U.S. I don't know where or what that means and while I feel and can do great work anywhere, something that has come up for me a lot is that this land that I come from can use people like me in it.
I've been asking for guidance in this process, as I look for my 'next best step'. Besides the inclination to stay in the states, I'm not getting any definitive answers. I am however, making good connections with people who are interested in my skills and I am paying attention to wherever my heart leads me.
I long to further cultivate my gifts, to bring them to the people. Although I know I do so daily, in my own quiet ways, I seek to embody my gifts more fully and I know each day is a lesson in how to do that. 'Trust yourself and your experience', a new friend said as I shared my stories with here. 'Soon your gifts will become more tangible, more of this world that the "other" world,' a wise teacher said to me recently.
Admittedly, I am a little scared. A bigger part of me is so curious and excited to see where I will go next. I've been a similar place of transition many times over the past couple of years, you can see it here in my stories. Each time I trust and I'm getting better at it with the knowledge that the universe has always puts me where it needs me, just as I'm supposed to be at this course, with this teacher and with these beautiful people.
Best wishes on your journey, follow that thing in your heart that knows the way.
A favorite question I and the other apprentices at True Nature Farm get asked is "What are you doing next?" I've been asked this question before I even arrived here and I've got to admit, I still don't know the answer. Although there are options (Peru, Canada) I am feeling called to stay in the U.S. I don't know where or what that means and while I feel and can do great work anywhere, something that has come up for me a lot is that this land that I come from can use people like me in it.
I've been asking for guidance in this process, as I look for my 'next best step'. Besides the inclination to stay in the states, I'm not getting any definitive answers. I am however, making good connections with people who are interested in my skills and I am paying attention to wherever my heart leads me.
I long to further cultivate my gifts, to bring them to the people. Although I know I do so daily, in my own quiet ways, I seek to embody my gifts more fully and I know each day is a lesson in how to do that. 'Trust yourself and your experience', a new friend said as I shared my stories with here. 'Soon your gifts will become more tangible, more of this world that the "other" world,' a wise teacher said to me recently.
Admittedly, I am a little scared. A bigger part of me is so curious and excited to see where I will go next. I've been a similar place of transition many times over the past couple of years, you can see it here in my stories. Each time I trust and I'm getting better at it with the knowledge that the universe has always puts me where it needs me, just as I'm supposed to be at this course, with this teacher and with these beautiful people.
Best wishes on your journey, follow that thing in your heart that knows the way.
Sunday, July 22, 2012
Re-Membering Grief and Love
There are many re-membered stories in which I explore my journey with romantic relationships and the role that they play in my life. In the real world, I tend to be shy about sharing these stories and even here, although I'm grateful to have this outlet to share them, I realize that I'm not entirely forthcoming and I do not always give these stories permission to be a part of my soul journey. I recognize how ridiculous this is, such love can be an incredible guide to soul. A romantic Other can play such a deep part in The Work, through reflection and mirroring and showing us our shadow (the part of us that we have buried, that longs to be seen). I know all of this, yet I continue to belittle such relationships, seeing them as silly or frivolous, not good enough to be a significant part of my journey. I've been confused about romance and the role it may or may not play in my life.
Last night I had a pretty big realization of the role such relationships have played in my life in the past. I have often times gone into relationships with a deep knowing that they will not last. Yet I continue down the path with an Other, knowing that the death of the relationship is inevitable. I am reading a manuscript that a friend lent me knowing about my intimate relationship with grief. I'm not even sure of the name of the book but when I picked it up last night, the words on the pages moved through me as they spoke of Love as a gateway into Grief. The words spoke of how nothing lasts and how, as much as we try to deny or ignore it, everything we love we lose. I was especially touched by a poem recited in the pages, by Eleh Ezkerah called "These We Remember".
I'm not to surprised that I've not put this together before, although it's so simple. In my work with 'permission to love' I was not giving romantic love permission to be. I've talked of 'showing up' in relationship, although it is usually fleeting. I also talk of longing for a partner to share the beauty of this journey with. Could I be all talk? If previously, romantic heartache has equaled recognizable grief for me, now that I have an intimate relationship with grief, where does that leave me in romantic relationships? Many have stood before me, and stand before me now, asking me to love them. At what point am I going to stop saying no? At what point am I going to stop walking, running, pushing others away?
I don't know, but I will continue to practice patience with myself and I'm pretty sure I'll continue to show up in love, (I can't help myself!) being a little more gentle with others and myself in love.
Last night I had a pretty big realization of the role such relationships have played in my life in the past. I have often times gone into relationships with a deep knowing that they will not last. Yet I continue down the path with an Other, knowing that the death of the relationship is inevitable. I am reading a manuscript that a friend lent me knowing about my intimate relationship with grief. I'm not even sure of the name of the book but when I picked it up last night, the words on the pages moved through me as they spoke of Love as a gateway into Grief. The words spoke of how nothing lasts and how, as much as we try to deny or ignore it, everything we love we lose. I was especially touched by a poem recited in the pages, by Eleh Ezkerah called "These We Remember".
'Tis a fearful thing
To love
What death can touch.
To love, to hope, to dream,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this
Love,
But a holy thing
To love what death can touch.
For your life has lived in me;
You laugh once lifted me;
You word was a gift to me.
To remember this brings painful joy.
'Tis a human thing, love,
A holy thing,
To love
What death can touch.
~
In my search for love over the years, was I also seeking out grief? In the deeper parts of my Self did I know my grief was hidden, longing to be seen? In my own way, was I subconsciously bringing the grief to a boil through such relationships, knowing that the grief longed to spill over? As much beauty there was in love, there was the same amount of beauty in my experience with 'breaking up', the breaking open. I joke that I'm really good at breaking up, but it's true. I have had just as extraordinary experiences with the end of relationships as I have in coming together with another. I remember ending things with a woman I was dating for a significant amount of time and feeling closer to her on that day that I said good bye, than I had through out our entire relationship. Over the past year or two, as I've mentioned previously, I've had many experiences of walking away, saying good bye, in order to follow what was calling me. There has been so much substance to these good bye's, so much love and grief.
I don't know, but I will continue to practice patience with myself and I'm pretty sure I'll continue to show up in love, (I can't help myself!) being a little more gentle with others and myself in love.
Saturday, July 21, 2012
Crossroads
This life, I tell you, is so full of Love and Mystery. At times I feel as though my heart might overflow. I am in awe and confusion of how life has brought me to this place. A place of beauty and knowing and trust. Daily I live my truths, the truths that lay in the darkness and come alive in the light.
This morning, I headed into market to see some friends in town. So many beautiful people in this town and great friends in my life. I stand back and watch them interacting with each other, myself and with the stray kitten that is looking for a home. Afterwards Eden, Yahel and I went to my friend Mike's house to help him put up a huge new hoop house on his property.
I have fallen in love with this community, with this land. I'd like to say this is a surprise but somehow I sensed before I got here that I would be drawn to this place. I also (knowing that anything I can plan is too small) thought I may be going to South America after the apprenticeship is over. I feeling a little torn between these two places, although I know that I will create beauty and community wherever I go at this point. Both places are full of Mystery and wonder. Both are full of possibility and the ability to bring forth my gifts. One would take longer to create community, one may take longer to create family, but are these not the same - family and community? One would bring greater opportunity to make money - but this has come to mean less and less to me.
My heart knows, my head feels confused. And once again, living the question. Each day is so full.
This morning, I headed into market to see some friends in town. So many beautiful people in this town and great friends in my life. I stand back and watch them interacting with each other, myself and with the stray kitten that is looking for a home. Afterwards Eden, Yahel and I went to my friend Mike's house to help him put up a huge new hoop house on his property.
I have fallen in love with this community, with this land. I'd like to say this is a surprise but somehow I sensed before I got here that I would be drawn to this place. I also (knowing that anything I can plan is too small) thought I may be going to South America after the apprenticeship is over. I feeling a little torn between these two places, although I know that I will create beauty and community wherever I go at this point. Both places are full of Mystery and wonder. Both are full of possibility and the ability to bring forth my gifts. One would take longer to create community, one may take longer to create family, but are these not the same - family and community? One would bring greater opportunity to make money - but this has come to mean less and less to me.
My heart knows, my head feels confused. And once again, living the question. Each day is so full.
Thursday, June 28, 2012
Live the Question
The heat persists and seems to send me into slow motion. Afternoons are spent in a daze, my thoughts melodic yet incomplete. I can’t help but take siesta in the warmest part of the day and come to life in the cool of night, re-membered through dance, love, laughter and longing.
Each morning I watch the sunrise with fascination. As my stiff hand unfolds I ignore the idea that I may have arthritis. My feet are raw and worn but try as I might, I can only bring myself to wear shoes for more than an hour or two. Even as I enjoy the quiet I wonder where the others have gone. I long to connect with my people and am confused by the fact that I could never find them all in one place.
The question that lives in my heart daily: How can I bring my gifts to the world? My not so tangible but ever important gifts. I long to work with others in my unique way, through my understanding of grief and the love that comes with it.
I recognize that it takes a special other to really see me and I am both proud and saddened by this knowing. Is there a time coming that we as humans will recognize each other, no longer afraid of our true nature that exists with nature? Who recognizes themselves in me today? I think of you often, do you think of me? It feels selfish to ask.
I attempt to conceal myself with old habits and question my place when I look at my depleting bank account. I’m in love with this town and an other in a faraway place. I’m curious to see where my heart will lead and taking in every beautiful moment along the way.
If there is heaviness in my words it comes from these living questions. If there is joy, it comes from the courage of an open heart.
Each morning I watch the sunrise with fascination. As my stiff hand unfolds I ignore the idea that I may have arthritis. My feet are raw and worn but try as I might, I can only bring myself to wear shoes for more than an hour or two. Even as I enjoy the quiet I wonder where the others have gone. I long to connect with my people and am confused by the fact that I could never find them all in one place.
The question that lives in my heart daily: How can I bring my gifts to the world? My not so tangible but ever important gifts. I long to work with others in my unique way, through my understanding of grief and the love that comes with it.
I recognize that it takes a special other to really see me and I am both proud and saddened by this knowing. Is there a time coming that we as humans will recognize each other, no longer afraid of our true nature that exists with nature? Who recognizes themselves in me today? I think of you often, do you think of me? It feels selfish to ask.
I attempt to conceal myself with old habits and question my place when I look at my depleting bank account. I’m in love with this town and an other in a faraway place. I’m curious to see where my heart will lead and taking in every beautiful moment along the way.
If there is heaviness in my words it comes from these living questions. If there is joy, it comes from the courage of an open heart.
Saturday, June 2, 2012
Relationship with Moon
I'm thinking about my relationship with the dear Luna (the moon). It began to intensify for me the last night of the intensive in Peru when the Shaman I was working with in ceremony took me outside and said to me, "Look at the moon, look at Padreo (the sacred mountain) and be grateful." The moon was full and magnificent that night and I was full of gratitude for it and am still. Just hours later, after ceremony, some of us went back outside and the sky was covered with clouds. But still, that evening began a new journey for the moon and I without my knowing it at the time.
Several weeks later, back in Salt Lake City, my housemate at the time suggested that we start doing ceremony together. We decided on doing fire ceremony around the moon cycle. On the new moon setting intentions and on the full moon transforming the energy around things we wanted to let go of. These ceremonies were very powerful for both us, with the energy of the moon, the fire, the directions and each other. I love watching my intentions grow with the moon and feeling my energy rise as the moon becomes full and with it a longing to release.
In the city, I feel tension with the growing full moon, but as I no longer carry the burden of the city life with me, I've come to feed off this energy and accept it more fully into my heart. Living in a tent, the moon has a different energy for me as there is nothing blocking my perception of it. I am certainly more aware of it, with no other light pollution. I rarely use a headlamp on the short trek up to my tent and I feel grateful for the energy of it's light a few nights before the full moon as much as I feel gratitude when it is only a sliver and my senses are more aware as I feel my way over the rocks and through the trees.
On the most recent new moon, I was in Moab with some new friends, two brothers whom I immediately felt a connection with. I was surprised at how much I opened up to them in a very short amount of time. On the night of the new moon, it was my job to get the fire going as they were preparing dinner. As I was tending the fire, I had the idea to invite the boys to do a new moon ceremony with me. Although they come from a certain religious faith, they were both open to participating in ceremony. I felt so blessed and humbled to conduct the ceremony and it was very moving for each of us.
Now, in this community I am living in, full moon is time for women's council. Last month I sat in circle with some incredibly strong beautiful women and this council feels like the beginning of something powerful, full of love, trust and hope.
I wrote a poem when I was a teenager that I recited by heart at a Kirtan I attended recently. I changed a few of the words to fill the poem with hope and I would like to share it here.
~
The moonlight burns my eyes
As if it were the Sun
Stars wrap me up in arms
As if I'm the only one
I know a secret not spoken
The dreamer has begun
Stars wrap me up in arms
I am
The Only One
Several weeks later, back in Salt Lake City, my housemate at the time suggested that we start doing ceremony together. We decided on doing fire ceremony around the moon cycle. On the new moon setting intentions and on the full moon transforming the energy around things we wanted to let go of. These ceremonies were very powerful for both us, with the energy of the moon, the fire, the directions and each other. I love watching my intentions grow with the moon and feeling my energy rise as the moon becomes full and with it a longing to release.
In the city, I feel tension with the growing full moon, but as I no longer carry the burden of the city life with me, I've come to feed off this energy and accept it more fully into my heart. Living in a tent, the moon has a different energy for me as there is nothing blocking my perception of it. I am certainly more aware of it, with no other light pollution. I rarely use a headlamp on the short trek up to my tent and I feel grateful for the energy of it's light a few nights before the full moon as much as I feel gratitude when it is only a sliver and my senses are more aware as I feel my way over the rocks and through the trees.
On the most recent new moon, I was in Moab with some new friends, two brothers whom I immediately felt a connection with. I was surprised at how much I opened up to them in a very short amount of time. On the night of the new moon, it was my job to get the fire going as they were preparing dinner. As I was tending the fire, I had the idea to invite the boys to do a new moon ceremony with me. Although they come from a certain religious faith, they were both open to participating in ceremony. I felt so blessed and humbled to conduct the ceremony and it was very moving for each of us.
Now, in this community I am living in, full moon is time for women's council. Last month I sat in circle with some incredibly strong beautiful women and this council feels like the beginning of something powerful, full of love, trust and hope.
I wrote a poem when I was a teenager that I recited by heart at a Kirtan I attended recently. I changed a few of the words to fill the poem with hope and I would like to share it here.
~
The moonlight burns my eyes
As if it were the Sun
Stars wrap me up in arms
As if I'm the only one
I know a secret not spoken
The dreamer has begun
Stars wrap me up in arms
I am
The Only One
Sunday, May 27, 2012
Shifting
It's interesting, showing up with grief in community. As I've said several times since my arrival to Salt Gulch, my heart just might break open here. It has. This is the space, this is the time. Grief does not come daily but regularly. I have grown to recognize the beauty in it without attaching any other name. Hiking down to a canyon the other day, I wept at it's magnificence. The sandstone walls heard my cry and the creek below received my tears. The land never rejects me. As I waded through the waters I felt alive and strong in my Self.
Last week I found myself longing for companionship. To be held in the arms of an Other, to feel a gentle touch or look that only lovers share. It's an interesting time for this to come up as I am living in a small community of eight. The greater community of Boulder town which is about twenty minutes away, doesn't leave a lot of room for romantic interest with it's booming population of two hundred. There is a special someone I share a deep connection with who is thousands of miles away. Since I do not have phone service, my case, for now at least, could easily be seen as hopeless. But hell, you never know. I honor my longing as I honor my grief. In this dry season I am learning new ways to connect with others in love.
For months now, I have had the feeling that I am moving into the next phase of my life. Since coming to the farm, this feeling has increased exponentially. The seeds that I planted (literally and figuratively) in Anza Borrego are coming to life. In order for this to take place, seeds first have to die. I was thinking about my own impending death the other day. Sounds morbid I know but I do not feel that if I were to die tomorrow, there is nothing that is going to keep me from dieing in peace. The next day, death on mind, but birth. The birth of a child, a bird, a plant. I have had a few, incredibly intense experiences in the last month or so with animal processing. Although very intense for me, these close encounters with the cycle of life have been very moving for me and played a large role in my process. As I move into this next phase of life, I am well aware of a death of sorts taking place. The death of old ways of being and belonging to this world, saying yes and birthing my gifts as they begin to manifest. I know that some of my recent grief is intertwined with this shifting, and through that grief I am honoring the Wanderer inside of me.
Part of me feels a great need for a human mentor right now. Although I have many teachers it occurred I long for the support of someone who I can sit face to face with, who understand. At the same time, I feel I am stepping into an Elder role myself and I need to first look inside for the leader. Just as I was asking for a mentor, I had a beautiful conversation with a friend of mine at the farmers market yesterday about this shift and my gifts and she understood.
For now, the farm is my mentor, and the land my lover. Last night, I gathered around the fire with new friends, good music and food. This morning I milked Dolly the goat, one of my favorite activities. Last week, we built a beautiful cob/stone oven. I loved fitting the stone together and working with my friends. We also prepared the rest of the garden beds for planting this week. As I prepare my inner garden, I'm excited to watched the seeds grow, an apprentice to my soul.
Last week I found myself longing for companionship. To be held in the arms of an Other, to feel a gentle touch or look that only lovers share. It's an interesting time for this to come up as I am living in a small community of eight. The greater community of Boulder town which is about twenty minutes away, doesn't leave a lot of room for romantic interest with it's booming population of two hundred. There is a special someone I share a deep connection with who is thousands of miles away. Since I do not have phone service, my case, for now at least, could easily be seen as hopeless. But hell, you never know. I honor my longing as I honor my grief. In this dry season I am learning new ways to connect with others in love.
For months now, I have had the feeling that I am moving into the next phase of my life. Since coming to the farm, this feeling has increased exponentially. The seeds that I planted (literally and figuratively) in Anza Borrego are coming to life. In order for this to take place, seeds first have to die. I was thinking about my own impending death the other day. Sounds morbid I know but I do not feel that if I were to die tomorrow, there is nothing that is going to keep me from dieing in peace. The next day, death on mind, but birth. The birth of a child, a bird, a plant. I have had a few, incredibly intense experiences in the last month or so with animal processing. Although very intense for me, these close encounters with the cycle of life have been very moving for me and played a large role in my process. As I move into this next phase of life, I am well aware of a death of sorts taking place. The death of old ways of being and belonging to this world, saying yes and birthing my gifts as they begin to manifest. I know that some of my recent grief is intertwined with this shifting, and through that grief I am honoring the Wanderer inside of me.
Part of me feels a great need for a human mentor right now. Although I have many teachers it occurred I long for the support of someone who I can sit face to face with, who understand. At the same time, I feel I am stepping into an Elder role myself and I need to first look inside for the leader. Just as I was asking for a mentor, I had a beautiful conversation with a friend of mine at the farmers market yesterday about this shift and my gifts and she understood.
For now, the farm is my mentor, and the land my lover. Last night, I gathered around the fire with new friends, good music and food. This morning I milked Dolly the goat, one of my favorite activities. Last week, we built a beautiful cob/stone oven. I loved fitting the stone together and working with my friends. We also prepared the rest of the garden beds for planting this week. As I prepare my inner garden, I'm excited to watched the seeds grow, an apprentice to my soul.
Wednesday, April 25, 2012
Shedding Skin
There is so much moving through me, and so much to say. Where to begin? This past week has been especially intense and beautiful as well as exhausting. I'm amazed at how life and my inner work manifests itself. Particularly in this raw, powerful place. I spoke the other day of the serpent and shedding of skin or that which no longer serves me. There is a lot I am letting go of here, as I step deeper into my Self. Days later a friend found a dead snake. As I helped remove his skin and gut it, I was in awe of this beautiful creature, and the way it showed itself first in my inner world and then in my physical world.
I came into town tonight on a whim and met some cyclists who are traveling across the country. What an incredible journey they are on and as heard a little about there adventure a little bit of envy came up that made me laugh out loud. Am I kidding? I myself am on a journey just as incredible as theirs, here in this community and the small community of True Nature. Since arriving in town I heard about a group getting together tonight to share their favorite poems and I will hang out with that. I've been excited to feel Boulder out and feel apart of this community for the season and who knows, maybe longer. Then, just a few moments ago I ran into an old high school teacher of mine. Who knew this much could go on in just a few hours in a small town of two hundred.
Tomorrow night, I have the honor of holding council, as on the Vision Quest, but now with my fellow apprentices. We will sit in a circle, and each of us in turn, with deer antlers that serve as a talking staff, will share spontaneously and speak as well as listen from the heart. I've been wanting to hold council since the vision quest and, although I've sat in council since then, having the antlers with me all week, I feel an immense gratitude and humility that comes with such an honor.
This afternoon, after spending the day gathering food for us, I quietly walked back to the garden to spend some time with the animals. Tina Luna, the woman who lives there introduced me to the new baby chicks. I was touched by the way the nestled next to the mother and how one of them reached up to mama's beak. Mama hen seemed tired and I marveled at her commitment to her new babies, some of them not biologically hers, and also her resilience. Love in the name of Love.
I came into town tonight on a whim and met some cyclists who are traveling across the country. What an incredible journey they are on and as heard a little about there adventure a little bit of envy came up that made me laugh out loud. Am I kidding? I myself am on a journey just as incredible as theirs, here in this community and the small community of True Nature. Since arriving in town I heard about a group getting together tonight to share their favorite poems and I will hang out with that. I've been excited to feel Boulder out and feel apart of this community for the season and who knows, maybe longer. Then, just a few moments ago I ran into an old high school teacher of mine. Who knew this much could go on in just a few hours in a small town of two hundred.
Tomorrow night, I have the honor of holding council, as on the Vision Quest, but now with my fellow apprentices. We will sit in a circle, and each of us in turn, with deer antlers that serve as a talking staff, will share spontaneously and speak as well as listen from the heart. I've been wanting to hold council since the vision quest and, although I've sat in council since then, having the antlers with me all week, I feel an immense gratitude and humility that comes with such an honor.
This afternoon, after spending the day gathering food for us, I quietly walked back to the garden to spend some time with the animals. Tina Luna, the woman who lives there introduced me to the new baby chicks. I was touched by the way the nestled next to the mother and how one of them reached up to mama's beak. Mama hen seemed tired and I marveled at her commitment to her new babies, some of them not biologically hers, and also her resilience. Love in the name of Love.
Saturday, April 14, 2012
Strength in Sustainability
I arrived at True Nature Farm nearly two weeks ago where I am blessed to take up residence for the next six months. My tent sits on the ridge above our small community of eight. It is a sacred spot, only yards from a grave site full of animal bones. there was fresh deer scat at the spot when I arrived. I meditated in the area and asked for permission to say and received a resounding yes. I am humbled each time I return to my new 'home'.
I am surprised by my physical strength as I work in the garden, digging new beds, lifting loaded wheel barrows, or working with the Israeli ho, which have proved to be very therapeutic. I keep expecting to wake up with the familiar ache I have come accustomed to and to my relief, it does not happen. My body, which has had a difficult time keeping up with my ever shifting Self, seems to finally be meeting up with my spirit, although I am still re-membering and learning to trust my physical being again.
In addition to learning about Permaculture and sustainability, I continue to work on personal sustainability. Weekly we have a dream tracking group and sit in council together weekly as well. I am grateful that my longing for council will be met here, in our small community at the farm and the greater community of Boulder, Utah. This past week I was reminded of how one persons dream can affect someone else (in this case myself) on a deeply profound level.
I attempt to visit my sit spot daily but the last couple of days have been full with the garden, council, a potluck and movie in Boulder Town, a community I can easily see myself falling in love with. Right now I am sitting at the Kiva Koffehouse watching the snow dump on top of the Red Rock, full of gratitude and only slightly concerned about how my tent is holding up in the weather.
I am surprised by my physical strength as I work in the garden, digging new beds, lifting loaded wheel barrows, or working with the Israeli ho, which have proved to be very therapeutic. I keep expecting to wake up with the familiar ache I have come accustomed to and to my relief, it does not happen. My body, which has had a difficult time keeping up with my ever shifting Self, seems to finally be meeting up with my spirit, although I am still re-membering and learning to trust my physical being again.
In addition to learning about Permaculture and sustainability, I continue to work on personal sustainability. Weekly we have a dream tracking group and sit in council together weekly as well. I am grateful that my longing for council will be met here, in our small community at the farm and the greater community of Boulder, Utah. This past week I was reminded of how one persons dream can affect someone else (in this case myself) on a deeply profound level.
I attempt to visit my sit spot daily but the last couple of days have been full with the garden, council, a potluck and movie in Boulder Town, a community I can easily see myself falling in love with. Right now I am sitting at the Kiva Koffehouse watching the snow dump on top of the Red Rock, full of gratitude and only slightly concerned about how my tent is holding up in the weather.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
The Web of LIfe
I ended my day with my dog Sage greeting me at the door, walking into my nearly empty room that has served as my home for the last several months, with so much in my heart. Not of endings but of new beginnings.
My sixteen year old niece was upset tonight over the consequences of doing what she knew in her heart to be right. As I heard the distress in her tears I felt so proud of her. I'm reminded of the courage it takes to follow one's intuition, even if it means going against the grain, and I feel proud of myself for doing so.
I am constantly in awe of the paths that cross in this lifetime, however brief or long the encounters. I am reminded of how we touch each others souls in ways that help us to re-member, whether or not I myself or the Other realizes the depth of one such encounter. I try to remember this always as I show up in this world, and am so grateful for this web of existence. I think of this not because I am in the space of saying good-bye but because I've said hello to others with an open heart recently, and also because I've gained closure in relationships and accepted that life is full of severance. I know in that severance we take with us piece of each other, lessons learned and love lived.
My sixteen year old niece was upset tonight over the consequences of doing what she knew in her heart to be right. As I heard the distress in her tears I felt so proud of her. I'm reminded of the courage it takes to follow one's intuition, even if it means going against the grain, and I feel proud of myself for doing so.
I am constantly in awe of the paths that cross in this lifetime, however brief or long the encounters. I am reminded of how we touch each others souls in ways that help us to re-member, whether or not I myself or the Other realizes the depth of one such encounter. I try to remember this always as I show up in this world, and am so grateful for this web of existence. I think of this not because I am in the space of saying good-bye but because I've said hello to others with an open heart recently, and also because I've gained closure in relationships and accepted that life is full of severance. I know in that severance we take with us piece of each other, lessons learned and love lived.
Friday, March 23, 2012
Wrapping Up
I've been back in Salt Lake City for nearly five months now. My time in Peru seems far away as I prepare for my next venture, a six month sustainability apprenticeship on an organic farm. I will work through this weekend and take next week off to prepare physically and emotionally and to rest. I'm exhausted! I love Spring but as I become more and more sensitive it's a difficult transition for me as the Earth prepares for new growth.
I speak often in the blog about manifesting, trusting and following my heart. Pattern: Once I commit to a new adventure (i.e., the farm, Peru, any commitment really) I immediately revert to, "How am I going to make this happen?" "What the hell am I thinking?" Or, my favorite, "What will I do next?" Of course, as much as I stress about the how, everything has worked out financially. Even as I've watched my savings account expand, I admit I still worry a little, I won't be bringing in any money for at least seven months. I've realized a lot of my fears around making these things happen are tied to an old belief I've had that I don't deserve the life that I want. Working on that one.
Winter, as in previous years, was a quiet time for me, a time of turning inward. I did not travel, I was not especially social. What touched me were the little nuances. Sitting with a fire under the full moon, reading my stories to a group of strangers, having a place to call home and a friend there to share more stories with. Learning to play the guitar, walking the dogs in the Foothills, playing the stranger in this city even though I've spent the majority of my adult life here. Making new friends and creating relationships with people who have were merely aquantainces before. Screaming at the top of my lungs into the darkness of the night in Big Cottonwood Canyon with a friend who'd had a rough day. Shifting, sharing and loving.
As I begin to wrap up my life here I'm aware of how different it's been than before. How I'm somehow different. I feel closure with certain ideas and beliefs or people that I've clung onto and with that closure a heaviness has lifted to be replaced with muscle and wisdom. And I've only just begun!
A co-worker and friend said to me today, "C'mon Angela, this whole farm thing, it's rehab isn't it?"
I speak often in the blog about manifesting, trusting and following my heart. Pattern: Once I commit to a new adventure (i.e., the farm, Peru, any commitment really) I immediately revert to, "How am I going to make this happen?" "What the hell am I thinking?" Or, my favorite, "What will I do next?" Of course, as much as I stress about the how, everything has worked out financially. Even as I've watched my savings account expand, I admit I still worry a little, I won't be bringing in any money for at least seven months. I've realized a lot of my fears around making these things happen are tied to an old belief I've had that I don't deserve the life that I want. Working on that one.
Winter, as in previous years, was a quiet time for me, a time of turning inward. I did not travel, I was not especially social. What touched me were the little nuances. Sitting with a fire under the full moon, reading my stories to a group of strangers, having a place to call home and a friend there to share more stories with. Learning to play the guitar, walking the dogs in the Foothills, playing the stranger in this city even though I've spent the majority of my adult life here. Making new friends and creating relationships with people who have were merely aquantainces before. Screaming at the top of my lungs into the darkness of the night in Big Cottonwood Canyon with a friend who'd had a rough day. Shifting, sharing and loving.
As I begin to wrap up my life here I'm aware of how different it's been than before. How I'm somehow different. I feel closure with certain ideas and beliefs or people that I've clung onto and with that closure a heaviness has lifted to be replaced with muscle and wisdom. And I've only just begun!
A co-worker and friend said to me today, "C'mon Angela, this whole farm thing, it's rehab isn't it?"
Sunday, March 11, 2012
Break Open
"It can be a lonely path" a teacher said to me once as she contemplated my journey. I know that I've chosen this life of solitude, yet I've made love like there was no one else in the room. I've stood in the doorway of my own heart and allowed it to break open. I stand naked before you now, as we thaw out old stories, of heroism, of danger, of love and disguise.
My body is more full, my eyes somehow darker, in my hair, a hint of grey that I wear proudly. For behind the depth of my eyes, are the stories of my oh so beautiful life. To quote a song by Lost in the Trees, "I got love songs, I got songs that make you cry." And they're incredible songs, beautiful stories that make up my life.
I'll share some of them now, doing so with the intention of transforming them into something new and letting go of what no longer serves me. These are old stories (old meaning they happened before today;). I tell them with love and respect and with anonymity.
~
You are in the way of this for me. In the way of what is important. I am angry and this morning I did not want to look at you. Of course you were the first one I saw. I though maybe you knew. "An attraction can happen anywhere...nothing after this." I am the queen of nothing after this. I understand that I, on my own, accepted this crown. I don't know if you can see. This is stopping me up. If I'm honest with myself I know there is a reason for this and it will keep showing up until I have the courage to look.
~
Making my way slowly back to my hometown to tie up loose ends I was blessed to take a LONG pause in one of my favorite places. I was there for a one day event and ended up staying for an entire week. I had the most beautiful journey there being completely present and engulfed in every moment, without concern for tomorrow or yesterday. A love story revealed itself there. If I had not been so blinded by my unwillingness to accept love before my journey - especially romantically- I would have seen this story unfolding before I left. But it didn't occur to me that this other might be a little bit hurt that I'm leaving until much later. I love this person dearly without strings or conditions and I had pushed him away in the past and regretted it.
It was not easy for me to tell him that I was leaving and not easy for him to hear but we both seemed to know that everything is as it should be. And after three more incredible days together I walked away. But not because I'm scared or stubborn or won't let love in but because I know that I have to answer to myself right now and the shifts I have experienced recently. I did not walk away overwhelmed with grief but with a deep, deep gratitude for the time that I have spent with this person and the gifts that our relationship has brought me and will continue to bring. I feel so grateful that I was present enough to know that I needed to walk away, holding my heart gingerly in my hands and thanking it for it's strength with every step that I put between my Self and the Other.
~
I never really mean to fall in love. In fact, I've been known to fight against it. And still, I tend to show up, knowing full well how fleeting it can be. "Do you get lonely, doing what you do alone?" a friend had asked me. Sometimes. Other times it would never occur to me that I am alone.
I felt him pull away the last couple of days. I've seen it before, I've lived it before. We only spent a short time together tonight but it was a painful hour and a half. He was sad, trying to cover it up with sarcasm and, like yesterday, looking for comfort in his status, "They want me to run for office again."
He's escorting me to the train station tomorrow. I would rather he not and tried to talk him out of it. But he's done so much, I didn't want to offend. Neither do I want to drag out good bye. What will I say? He should know I love him. Does he want me to say I'll stay? It doesn't matter, I won't.
~
Me: How do we survive such achingly beautiful heartache?
Her: It's inextricably linked to what brings us alive.
~
It's incredible to me how having one's heart broken can break it open in such a way that love comes rushing back in. In allowing ourselves to risk such heartache, sometimes time and time again, we embrace such love, a love that is bigger than all of our love songs.
Yup, I get lonely sometimes. It's hard for me to admit this and even more difficult to give my self permission to be lonely. Then I play the guitar for my friends while they sing along or have a conversation with a Magpie or climb a beautiful rock, and fall completely in love all over again.
My body is more full, my eyes somehow darker, in my hair, a hint of grey that I wear proudly. For behind the depth of my eyes, are the stories of my oh so beautiful life. To quote a song by Lost in the Trees, "I got love songs, I got songs that make you cry." And they're incredible songs, beautiful stories that make up my life.
I'll share some of them now, doing so with the intention of transforming them into something new and letting go of what no longer serves me. These are old stories (old meaning they happened before today;). I tell them with love and respect and with anonymity.
~
You are in the way of this for me. In the way of what is important. I am angry and this morning I did not want to look at you. Of course you were the first one I saw. I though maybe you knew. "An attraction can happen anywhere...nothing after this." I am the queen of nothing after this. I understand that I, on my own, accepted this crown. I don't know if you can see. This is stopping me up. If I'm honest with myself I know there is a reason for this and it will keep showing up until I have the courage to look.
~
Making my way slowly back to my hometown to tie up loose ends I was blessed to take a LONG pause in one of my favorite places. I was there for a one day event and ended up staying for an entire week. I had the most beautiful journey there being completely present and engulfed in every moment, without concern for tomorrow or yesterday. A love story revealed itself there. If I had not been so blinded by my unwillingness to accept love before my journey - especially romantically- I would have seen this story unfolding before I left. But it didn't occur to me that this other might be a little bit hurt that I'm leaving until much later. I love this person dearly without strings or conditions and I had pushed him away in the past and regretted it.
It was not easy for me to tell him that I was leaving and not easy for him to hear but we both seemed to know that everything is as it should be. And after three more incredible days together I walked away. But not because I'm scared or stubborn or won't let love in but because I know that I have to answer to myself right now and the shifts I have experienced recently. I did not walk away overwhelmed with grief but with a deep, deep gratitude for the time that I have spent with this person and the gifts that our relationship has brought me and will continue to bring. I feel so grateful that I was present enough to know that I needed to walk away, holding my heart gingerly in my hands and thanking it for it's strength with every step that I put between my Self and the Other.
~
I never really mean to fall in love. In fact, I've been known to fight against it. And still, I tend to show up, knowing full well how fleeting it can be. "Do you get lonely, doing what you do alone?" a friend had asked me. Sometimes. Other times it would never occur to me that I am alone.
I felt him pull away the last couple of days. I've seen it before, I've lived it before. We only spent a short time together tonight but it was a painful hour and a half. He was sad, trying to cover it up with sarcasm and, like yesterday, looking for comfort in his status, "They want me to run for office again."
He's escorting me to the train station tomorrow. I would rather he not and tried to talk him out of it. But he's done so much, I didn't want to offend. Neither do I want to drag out good bye. What will I say? He should know I love him. Does he want me to say I'll stay? It doesn't matter, I won't.
~
Me: How do we survive such achingly beautiful heartache?
Her: It's inextricably linked to what brings us alive.
~
It's incredible to me how having one's heart broken can break it open in such a way that love comes rushing back in. In allowing ourselves to risk such heartache, sometimes time and time again, we embrace such love, a love that is bigger than all of our love songs.
Yup, I get lonely sometimes. It's hard for me to admit this and even more difficult to give my self permission to be lonely. Then I play the guitar for my friends while they sing along or have a conversation with a Magpie or climb a beautiful rock, and fall completely in love all over again.
Wednesday, February 22, 2012
Vision Quest and Community
As I come upon the one year anniversary of my time in Anza Borrego, my thoughts have been on the Vision Quest. As we hiked out of our base camp on one of the last days, our beloved guides invited us to ask ourselves or another these questions: What happened? Who went out (on the Vision Quest)? Who came back? A friend and I were marveling last night at how we were still asking ourselves these same questions. We laughed, "What the hell did happen?" Both agreeing that the Vision Quest was the best time in our lives, for me, the most profoundly beautiful, sacred and mysterious experiences I've ever had.
There are so many stories for me around this experience, before and after, and I'm sure yet to come. It is interesting to look back at this time, during the actual Vision Quest and notice what stands out for me. As I've mentioned previously, this was a very personal and sacred experience for me. There are parts of this experience that I have shared with very few people,if anyone at all, and I will not share those most sacred experiences here, but I do feel inclined to share more.
The Humans
A big part of this quest, for all of us in different ways, was our experience with each other (the other questers and guides). There were fifteen of us total, twelve questers, two guides and one apprentice who acted both as a participant and as a guide in training. I knew the group work leading up to the solo would be an important part of this journey but I am still amazed at the profound ways this proved to be true. I was surprised at how I was able to immediately open up to these strangers, when it is sometimes difficult for me to be authentic with people who have been in my life for years. Of course it was intimidating that first night as we gathered for dinner, but as I walked up to the 'dining area' one of the questors approached me saying my name and giving me a huge hug. Although we had only met hours ago, I had the sensation of connecting with an old friend.
We sat in 'council' everyday. I love this concept. Essentially, we all sat in a circle and shared as we received the talking staff. The only rules were to speak spontaneously and from the heart, and also to listen from the heart. We shared our fears, dreams we had during the quest, or anything that was present for us. In this, each one of us experienced what the Other was sharing. I was struck by the fact that we were all such mirrors for each other. Others would share dreams that affected me in a profound way, or even the collective. The energy in those circles was so powerful, it's difficult to find the words for it.
I don't think I've ever felt so held by a group of people and I realized how much I'd been longing for community. One of the first nights we were invited to share our life story with a partner that was randomly selected for us. We were to tell our stories in the third person, with few interruptions for an hour an a half or so. The apprentice and I shared a wildlife encounter with Owl, one of my consistent spirit guides. We weren't afraid of touch. Hugs, hand holding, kissing. Those boundaries we've set in this society regarding touch did not exist. Not in an inappropriate way at all, but going back to being held, emotionally and physically.
The group aspect was not all happy and lovey though. Working through such intense emotional shifts, there was bound to be some projecting going on. Seeing in others what you either long for or despise in your Self is never easy. There was one lucky quester that, whether he knew it or not, got to play the role of all the romantic interests in my life, poor guy. Of course the situation of wanting someone I couldn't be with for logistical reasons came up, why would it not? I knew I was projecting because my feelings for this person were completely irrational, from entirely in love to so disgusted, I couldn't even look at him. There were others who had a really hard time feeling a part of the group or had problems with a particular person because of their own 'stuff'.
The most meaningful part of the group aspect for me, was simply being witnessed and witnessing others. Witnessed as I worked through what came up, as I danced, as I laughed, cried, sang, screamed and as I said 'yes' to this incredible journey. After we returned from our solos, we were invited to share our experience in ten minutes (impossible!) as our guides introduced us, in a random order. I was so blessed to be present as each person shared "what happened" for them during their time alone in the dessert. I was the last to share. It was after dark and it had been a long day. As I spoke into the darkness, although they were tired, I felt each person listening intently as I shared what was in my heart, and knew, I was forever changed.
I started to call the next section of this blog, 'the work' but as I began to type it seemed to do my time in the desert an injustice, make it smaller. For now, I'm going to leave it at this. I'm revisiting the Vision Quest in my heart, I may revisit it here down the line. Watch for more to come.
For more information regarding Animas Valley Institute, who I chose to do my quest with, visit www.animas.org.
There are so many stories for me around this experience, before and after, and I'm sure yet to come. It is interesting to look back at this time, during the actual Vision Quest and notice what stands out for me. As I've mentioned previously, this was a very personal and sacred experience for me. There are parts of this experience that I have shared with very few people,if anyone at all, and I will not share those most sacred experiences here, but I do feel inclined to share more.
The Humans
A big part of this quest, for all of us in different ways, was our experience with each other (the other questers and guides). There were fifteen of us total, twelve questers, two guides and one apprentice who acted both as a participant and as a guide in training. I knew the group work leading up to the solo would be an important part of this journey but I am still amazed at the profound ways this proved to be true. I was surprised at how I was able to immediately open up to these strangers, when it is sometimes difficult for me to be authentic with people who have been in my life for years. Of course it was intimidating that first night as we gathered for dinner, but as I walked up to the 'dining area' one of the questors approached me saying my name and giving me a huge hug. Although we had only met hours ago, I had the sensation of connecting with an old friend.
We sat in 'council' everyday. I love this concept. Essentially, we all sat in a circle and shared as we received the talking staff. The only rules were to speak spontaneously and from the heart, and also to listen from the heart. We shared our fears, dreams we had during the quest, or anything that was present for us. In this, each one of us experienced what the Other was sharing. I was struck by the fact that we were all such mirrors for each other. Others would share dreams that affected me in a profound way, or even the collective. The energy in those circles was so powerful, it's difficult to find the words for it.
I don't think I've ever felt so held by a group of people and I realized how much I'd been longing for community. One of the first nights we were invited to share our life story with a partner that was randomly selected for us. We were to tell our stories in the third person, with few interruptions for an hour an a half or so. The apprentice and I shared a wildlife encounter with Owl, one of my consistent spirit guides. We weren't afraid of touch. Hugs, hand holding, kissing. Those boundaries we've set in this society regarding touch did not exist. Not in an inappropriate way at all, but going back to being held, emotionally and physically.
The group aspect was not all happy and lovey though. Working through such intense emotional shifts, there was bound to be some projecting going on. Seeing in others what you either long for or despise in your Self is never easy. There was one lucky quester that, whether he knew it or not, got to play the role of all the romantic interests in my life, poor guy. Of course the situation of wanting someone I couldn't be with for logistical reasons came up, why would it not? I knew I was projecting because my feelings for this person were completely irrational, from entirely in love to so disgusted, I couldn't even look at him. There were others who had a really hard time feeling a part of the group or had problems with a particular person because of their own 'stuff'.
The most meaningful part of the group aspect for me, was simply being witnessed and witnessing others. Witnessed as I worked through what came up, as I danced, as I laughed, cried, sang, screamed and as I said 'yes' to this incredible journey. After we returned from our solos, we were invited to share our experience in ten minutes (impossible!) as our guides introduced us, in a random order. I was so blessed to be present as each person shared "what happened" for them during their time alone in the dessert. I was the last to share. It was after dark and it had been a long day. As I spoke into the darkness, although they were tired, I felt each person listening intently as I shared what was in my heart, and knew, I was forever changed.
I started to call the next section of this blog, 'the work' but as I began to type it seemed to do my time in the desert an injustice, make it smaller. For now, I'm going to leave it at this. I'm revisiting the Vision Quest in my heart, I may revisit it here down the line. Watch for more to come.
For more information regarding Animas Valley Institute, who I chose to do my quest with, visit www.animas.org.
Sunday, February 19, 2012
Re-member a Child
I had a really nice dinner with some friends tonight, all parents. We got to talking about how to raise children and the things children do when they are teenagers, how they learn to show up in this world. I have not yet had the privilege of being a mama, although I believe I will, someday soon. Even still, I feel I had something to offer the conversation, if only from my own experiences as a child, as an adolescent, and now, as an adult. It's amazing that I survived my teenage years, that any of us do really. Yes, I had sex when I was young, had my 'moments' with alcohol, tried marijuana, and in my later teenage years (sixteen and seventeen), meth. How did I get there? I came from a good family, although I was confused about the things that I'd done and knew my family saw them as bad things. It's not that I hung out with bad kids, I was actually a bit of loner, as I am still today. And then, as I do now, I longed for a sense of community. I did not find that in my church. In fact, quite the opposite. The kids that I did get into trouble with were and are now, as far as I know, beautiful, strong beings, as confused as I was.
I have so much love for my parents, more than they could possibly know. We did absolutely not have an open relationship. I will not delve into this too much, out of respect, but I hardly new what my period was, let alone the affect drugs would have on me or what it meant to give myself to a man. We didn't really talk about much, and still our relationship is strained. I learned from a young age what men wanted from me, long before I was strong enough to stand up for myself as a female. I also had a sadness that hung over me from a very young age that I had no idea what to do with, or how to even ask for help with.
Others who have heard my story ask, "How did you come out of it?" As you now, meth is a pretty hardcore addiction and in my eyes, I was lucky to go through it when I was young, as I had very few interactions with drugs as an adult. Honestly, I don't know how I survived it. Came out of it. I'm sure I had some help, maybe even from my older self. In preparing for the vision quest, they asked us to bring something we could throw into the fire during ceremony. I went through some of my old notebooks and came upon the following that I had written one of the last times I got high as a teenager, I was seventeen at the time.
Even then I cried out, knowing that there was something more inside of me.
Your kids are going to make mistakes. They're going to love and hurt and cry and might really screw up. But they're more resilient than you might think. We survived, so will they. Talk to your children, I told my friends tonight. Love them no matter what and be there for them. I know that someday, as a mother, I will heed the same advice.
I have so much love for my parents, more than they could possibly know. We did absolutely not have an open relationship. I will not delve into this too much, out of respect, but I hardly new what my period was, let alone the affect drugs would have on me or what it meant to give myself to a man. We didn't really talk about much, and still our relationship is strained. I learned from a young age what men wanted from me, long before I was strong enough to stand up for myself as a female. I also had a sadness that hung over me from a very young age that I had no idea what to do with, or how to even ask for help with.
Others who have heard my story ask, "How did you come out of it?" As you now, meth is a pretty hardcore addiction and in my eyes, I was lucky to go through it when I was young, as I had very few interactions with drugs as an adult. Honestly, I don't know how I survived it. Came out of it. I'm sure I had some help, maybe even from my older self. In preparing for the vision quest, they asked us to bring something we could throw into the fire during ceremony. I went through some of my old notebooks and came upon the following that I had written one of the last times I got high as a teenager, I was seventeen at the time.
There is the smallest voice inside my head that tells me it's okay, that life has not broken me yet. Another part of me, part of my soul, wants so badly to shine. A piece of my heart wants to shed a thousand tears. A piece of my mind wants to not think about it anymore.
Even then I cried out, knowing that there was something more inside of me.
Your kids are going to make mistakes. They're going to love and hurt and cry and might really screw up. But they're more resilient than you might think. We survived, so will they. Talk to your children, I told my friends tonight. Love them no matter what and be there for them. I know that someday, as a mother, I will heed the same advice.
Tuesday, February 14, 2012
Redefining Home
I spent a few hours tonight cleaning the house I'm living in for the winter. Afterwards I went for a short walk and was filled with the image of the apartment I moved out of in the fall of 2010. I took the image further and imagined laying on my bed, the feel of my comforter that took months to pick out underneath me. I imagined C cooking in the kitchen, friends coming and going or, more often than not, myself sitting alone in the living room, the old hardwood floors not much different than where I live now,in my favorite chair with a book or a journal. Of course my dog Sage was with me then. She used to put her paws up on the window sill, which was the perfect height for her. She must have been pissed when my bike took residence under that window. That was the first place I made my own, when you walked in, you knew me a little better. My Mother and I even painted the walls. The color of my bedroom was Naughty Neutral, a purple/gray color. It proved to be quite fitting :)
I spent several months without a home this past year. I rarely slept in my car but I essentially lived out of it. I learned a lot about myself, staying at a different place every three to four nights. I slept in a child's bunk bed, an amazing house in the mountains feeding the birds and walking among the Aspen, I even slept in a horse trailer. In a way it was adventurous. "I don't know how you do it" others would say to me. I'm not sure either. There were days when I was in an incredible amount of pain and not knowing where I would sleep that night, hauling a bag around while my body was screaming at me. Those times were the hardest but there is a unique way of connecting with someone when they invite you into their home, into their everyday life.
I remember being in Peru when my friends were about to leave and I was a little freaked out because I didn't know where I was going to stay that night. "Wait a minute," I said, "this is no different than when I'm in Utah." With that thought, I realized there was no reason to worry and I 'moved into' a hostel later that day.
I'm so blessed to have a place to stay right now where I am comfortable and have just the right amount of support. In April I'll turn my basement room in for a tent, and the five diamond hotel I currently work at for a farm. A year ago as I was getting ready for my Vision Quest, the idea of camping for twelve days was a little daunting. Now I'll be camping for six months, no doubt gaining an even greater understanding of the word home.
I spent several months without a home this past year. I rarely slept in my car but I essentially lived out of it. I learned a lot about myself, staying at a different place every three to four nights. I slept in a child's bunk bed, an amazing house in the mountains feeding the birds and walking among the Aspen, I even slept in a horse trailer. In a way it was adventurous. "I don't know how you do it" others would say to me. I'm not sure either. There were days when I was in an incredible amount of pain and not knowing where I would sleep that night, hauling a bag around while my body was screaming at me. Those times were the hardest but there is a unique way of connecting with someone when they invite you into their home, into their everyday life.
I remember being in Peru when my friends were about to leave and I was a little freaked out because I didn't know where I was going to stay that night. "Wait a minute," I said, "this is no different than when I'm in Utah." With that thought, I realized there was no reason to worry and I 'moved into' a hostel later that day.
I'm so blessed to have a place to stay right now where I am comfortable and have just the right amount of support. In April I'll turn my basement room in for a tent, and the five diamond hotel I currently work at for a farm. A year ago as I was getting ready for my Vision Quest, the idea of camping for twelve days was a little daunting. Now I'll be camping for six months, no doubt gaining an even greater understanding of the word home.
Sunday, February 12, 2012
Forgotten Stories
I don't talk in the blog much these days of the hard times. Believe me, they are there. I've been touched by a deep sadness tonight. It penetrates through my being and left me feeling disillusioned and alone. I know a part of it is the moon and I expect to bleed in a day or two. "What am I doing here?" I ask myself. I spent years finding my place in this crazy world and I had found it too. A large circle of friends, a good job, a home, a beautiful body and a regular exercise routine, a good therapist. Why couldn't have that been enough for me? I didn't love myself enough then. Why would I possibly believe that I was worth more? I wasn't even worth what was already mine. Why is the every day, the typical, not enough for me?
I receive answers when I cry out, but they are sporadic and I can't keep up.
It's times like these I long for simple things, my bed and someone to lay with in it. A friend to talk to who would understand without words. I find myself hiding in my hands. Is this what despair looks like?
I wrote this about a week ago. Since then I've had my first Biophoton Therapy treatment that essentially makes the chaotic light emitting from your cells, well, not chaotic. I have hopes that this machine will help me, but I'm also helping on the research side of it, and that includes getting to know the treatment process. My naturopath warned me that there could be a detox period, one which for whatever reason I assumed would be physical. I did have a headache the days proceeding my treatment, but the majority of my "detox" was emotional. I had a lot of sadness come up, and even some anger. It helped to know that this was part of the process and things were definitely shifting. I was able to be in that place of grief and anger without attaching any stories to my feelings, and nurturing myself along the way.
I worry that my brain is unable to produce Seratonin on it's own since I was on anti depressants for so long. I get scared when the word depression comes to mind and I remember that for years I believed something was "wrong" with me. Those thoughts have a tendancy to creep back up when I get sad. Naively, there have been times when I've done some really great work or undergone a significant shift, I'll think, "That was it, that was the thing that was holding me back." Of course there's always more. I read this morning something to the effect of "There's no epidoral for spiritual birthing."A teacher of mine has asked me several times if I was in some kind of an accident when I was a child. I've been asked this before. I don't remember having an accident. I remember crying out for help and no one would listen. What could I possibly need help with? I was only a child.
It sounds trite to say, but in the middle of all of this I experience moments of love, peace and dare I say ecstasy. I am working on my ability to bring these feeling up in my Self, without the assistance of others. I've done some much work, at times it feels like I've not come very far at all.
I receive answers when I cry out, but they are sporadic and I can't keep up.
It's times like these I long for simple things, my bed and someone to lay with in it. A friend to talk to who would understand without words. I find myself hiding in my hands. Is this what despair looks like?
I wrote this about a week ago. Since then I've had my first Biophoton Therapy treatment that essentially makes the chaotic light emitting from your cells, well, not chaotic. I have hopes that this machine will help me, but I'm also helping on the research side of it, and that includes getting to know the treatment process. My naturopath warned me that there could be a detox period, one which for whatever reason I assumed would be physical. I did have a headache the days proceeding my treatment, but the majority of my "detox" was emotional. I had a lot of sadness come up, and even some anger. It helped to know that this was part of the process and things were definitely shifting. I was able to be in that place of grief and anger without attaching any stories to my feelings, and nurturing myself along the way.
I worry that my brain is unable to produce Seratonin on it's own since I was on anti depressants for so long. I get scared when the word depression comes to mind and I remember that for years I believed something was "wrong" with me. Those thoughts have a tendancy to creep back up when I get sad. Naively, there have been times when I've done some really great work or undergone a significant shift, I'll think, "That was it, that was the thing that was holding me back." Of course there's always more. I read this morning something to the effect of "There's no epidoral for spiritual birthing."A teacher of mine has asked me several times if I was in some kind of an accident when I was a child. I've been asked this before. I don't remember having an accident. I remember crying out for help and no one would listen. What could I possibly need help with? I was only a child.
It sounds trite to say, but in the middle of all of this I experience moments of love, peace and dare I say ecstasy. I am working on my ability to bring these feeling up in my Self, without the assistance of others. I've done some much work, at times it feels like I've not come very far at all.
Monday, January 30, 2012
Time to Re-Member
The Universe is calling out for a change in each of us, begging us to re-member. Heed to the call. Economies are collapsing, the Earth is suffering, resources depleting, children expressing themselves through violence, the list goes on and on. Yet we still cling to hatred. There is hope, there are people who are waking up. Stand up for change. Do not waste energy hating those that are different than you but ask "What do I have to learn from you?"
I was walking up to the grocery store the other day and there was a man just getting out of a cab. He was screaming at the cab driver to go back to his country, calling him a terriorst. This man was full of hatred but there was something else. He was surrounded in fear, self loathing and grief he did not know how to express.
That same day I had lunch with a few of my associates that I've known for years, all of a certain religious background. One staunch Mormon, who refuses to see anything different than stories he's been told, a woman who is on the same path but obviously does not want to be and another who's just a great guy who happens to be Mormon. We got into an interesting discussion about victims of abuse, whether or not to talk to children about sex, and what we have to learn as parents and children of parents. At one point in the conversation, the first man I mentioned brings up his sister in law who has a "problem" with homosexual attraction. "A problem?" I said, and he brushed me off. I walked away from the discussion not feeling angry or upset but grateful.
I did not come from a liberal family. (I don't like that word liberal it sounds so political). I was not taught to have an open mind. Yet somehow that as always been in me, a part of who I am. I remember at a young age my brother-in-law saying to me, out of the blue, "Don't ever marry a black man." This is the same brother in law that asked "Did I read your t-shirt right?" when he saw a picture of me in my "I'm not straight and I support equal rights" t-shirt. I don't get to wrapped up in the political scene although I did march around downtown Salt Lake City in 2008 with thousands of others protesting Prop 8. As I watched the rainbow flag glide past the church office building I remember being amazed that so much love could come out of a protest. There was not a hint of hate in that crowd.
I don't watch the news, I don't start arguments. but I've held hands with a woman in public, I don't pretend to be gay or straight and I support those who are either, I have friends who I know are illegal immigrants and I'm so glad they're here and I have been blessed to know them. I speak openly about depression and I don't feel different that people with mental or physical disabilities. I've been a drug addict, I've no qualms against anyone who has so much pain or grief that they don't know what to turn to but drugs or alcohol. I've never lived on the street but I've been homeless by choice. And no, I don't very often toot my own horn, but as I walked away from that lunch with my friends, people who are not at all like me, I felt proud of my life of equality. Not because I worked hard at it, or because I have a lot to fight for but because I came that way and I live my life as an example, every day.
Remember, that while you've certainly waded through your shit, there are others who have horribly, difficult stories that may be different than yours. Stories that you cannot imagine surviving. Remember this before you put another down or decide to hate. Look at what qualities they possess that you don't like to see in yourself, or on the flip side, what attributes do they have that you long for in yourself? Remember the love that you came from and what an important role it can play in these difficult times. The Universe needs you to re-member. Do not look outside yourself for the leader.
I was walking up to the grocery store the other day and there was a man just getting out of a cab. He was screaming at the cab driver to go back to his country, calling him a terriorst. This man was full of hatred but there was something else. He was surrounded in fear, self loathing and grief he did not know how to express.
That same day I had lunch with a few of my associates that I've known for years, all of a certain religious background. One staunch Mormon, who refuses to see anything different than stories he's been told, a woman who is on the same path but obviously does not want to be and another who's just a great guy who happens to be Mormon. We got into an interesting discussion about victims of abuse, whether or not to talk to children about sex, and what we have to learn as parents and children of parents. At one point in the conversation, the first man I mentioned brings up his sister in law who has a "problem" with homosexual attraction. "A problem?" I said, and he brushed me off. I walked away from the discussion not feeling angry or upset but grateful.
I did not come from a liberal family. (I don't like that word liberal it sounds so political). I was not taught to have an open mind. Yet somehow that as always been in me, a part of who I am. I remember at a young age my brother-in-law saying to me, out of the blue, "Don't ever marry a black man." This is the same brother in law that asked "Did I read your t-shirt right?" when he saw a picture of me in my "I'm not straight and I support equal rights" t-shirt. I don't get to wrapped up in the political scene although I did march around downtown Salt Lake City in 2008 with thousands of others protesting Prop 8. As I watched the rainbow flag glide past the church office building I remember being amazed that so much love could come out of a protest. There was not a hint of hate in that crowd.
I don't watch the news, I don't start arguments. but I've held hands with a woman in public, I don't pretend to be gay or straight and I support those who are either, I have friends who I know are illegal immigrants and I'm so glad they're here and I have been blessed to know them. I speak openly about depression and I don't feel different that people with mental or physical disabilities. I've been a drug addict, I've no qualms against anyone who has so much pain or grief that they don't know what to turn to but drugs or alcohol. I've never lived on the street but I've been homeless by choice. And no, I don't very often toot my own horn, but as I walked away from that lunch with my friends, people who are not at all like me, I felt proud of my life of equality. Not because I worked hard at it, or because I have a lot to fight for but because I came that way and I live my life as an example, every day.
Remember, that while you've certainly waded through your shit, there are others who have horribly, difficult stories that may be different than yours. Stories that you cannot imagine surviving. Remember this before you put another down or decide to hate. Look at what qualities they possess that you don't like to see in yourself, or on the flip side, what attributes do they have that you long for in yourself? Remember the love that you came from and what an important role it can play in these difficult times. The Universe needs you to re-member. Do not look outside yourself for the leader.
What about the how?
Although it's been a great week I'm feeling tired and a little defeated today. I've come down with a chest cold, aches and chills and the whole bit. It's made me extra sensitive and I'm easily irritated or brought to tears. The other night I was watching the Steve Jobs 2005 Stanford commencement address. As he spoke about following your heart, even when it leads you off the well worn path, trusting that the dots will connect, I sobbed, "I'm trying to follow heart". I'm trying.
"Should I being doing more?" I kept asking today. A couple of opportunities have come up to make more money, but none of them have come through. It's not about doing, I'm doing what I can. I'm not perfect, I may have gone out to dinner when I shouldn't or maybe I should have worked a full day yesterday even though I'm sick. I can see myself in what my heart is moving me towards. Will that be enough? "Go forward with an open heart". Here I am. Raw, naked, with all of my beautiful flaws and trusting and yes, I get scared.
It's not that I really want to live in a tent for six months. There is nothing romantic about using an outhouse for the same amount of time. It's just that I feel in my heart this apprenticeship to be an important part of my path. All of the work I've done has confirmed it. I can't help but ask, how will I get there?
Comfort came from an unexpected source. A conversation with my father. My Dad is the best man I've ever known. It's not easy for him to reach out to me these days, yet he did. A simple, five minute phone call inquiring about how my plans are going, But not only that, when I went into the reasons the farm fits my path, he seemed to understand and trust me. As I hung up the phone I felt, for the first time in weeks that I'll get there. And if not, I'm learning A LOT along the way.
So I'll go forward with my plans not knowing but trusting. I'll show up with my stories and my gratitude, wherever that may be. And whether or not my path leads me to where I believe it is meant to go, I'll know I did everything I could to get there.
I happened upon a poem tonight, written by one of my favorites, that really struck a chord.
Loaves and Fishes
This is not
the age of information.
This is not
the age of information.
Forget the news,
and the radio
and the blurred screen.
This is the time
of loaves
and fishes.
People are hungry,
and one good word is bread
for a thousand.
~David Whyte
I have a lot to say, I've yet to find my voice.
"Should I being doing more?" I kept asking today. A couple of opportunities have come up to make more money, but none of them have come through. It's not about doing, I'm doing what I can. I'm not perfect, I may have gone out to dinner when I shouldn't or maybe I should have worked a full day yesterday even though I'm sick. I can see myself in what my heart is moving me towards. Will that be enough? "Go forward with an open heart". Here I am. Raw, naked, with all of my beautiful flaws and trusting and yes, I get scared.
It's not that I really want to live in a tent for six months. There is nothing romantic about using an outhouse for the same amount of time. It's just that I feel in my heart this apprenticeship to be an important part of my path. All of the work I've done has confirmed it. I can't help but ask, how will I get there?
Comfort came from an unexpected source. A conversation with my father. My Dad is the best man I've ever known. It's not easy for him to reach out to me these days, yet he did. A simple, five minute phone call inquiring about how my plans are going, But not only that, when I went into the reasons the farm fits my path, he seemed to understand and trust me. As I hung up the phone I felt, for the first time in weeks that I'll get there. And if not, I'm learning A LOT along the way.
So I'll go forward with my plans not knowing but trusting. I'll show up with my stories and my gratitude, wherever that may be. And whether or not my path leads me to where I believe it is meant to go, I'll know I did everything I could to get there.
I happened upon a poem tonight, written by one of my favorites, that really struck a chord.
Loaves and Fishes
This is not
the age of information.
This is not
the age of information.
Forget the news,
and the radio
and the blurred screen.
This is the time
of loaves
and fishes.
People are hungry,
and one good word is bread
for a thousand.
~David Whyte
I have a lot to say, I've yet to find my voice.
Thursday, January 12, 2012
Musings from 2011
The one without the glitz and the glamor
When did the melody become difficult to hear?
You need to understand this!
Let’s be people who deserve to be loved. Who are worthy. Cause we are worthy, we really are!
I’m afraid what will happen when this hits the air...
I’ve been feeling lately, maybe I’m more resilient than I thought
~
She feels like home.
In all of her magnificence and mystery
She feels like coming home.
She travels alone.
Images, they all seem to blend together.
She understands that there is a reason,
Like a secret no one knows.
And admittedly, she herself is not even sure.
She wanders in acceptance, alone but hardly lonely.
~
“The plain fact is that the planet does not need more successful people. But it does desperately need more peacemakers, healers, restorers, storytellers, and lovers of every kind. It needs people who live well in their places. It needs people of moral courage willing to join the fight to make the world habitable and humane. And these qualities have little to do with success as we have defined it.”
-David Orr, Earth in Mind
Let your bones go limp and
your heart grow tired
There will be no moon tonight
Open not your sleepy eyes
Believe me there is no more fight
If I gathered you up like kindle
for the fire
Would you not tend to my flame?
My wants and desires?
~
I don’t consider myself an unreasonable person, except for when it comes to romantic love. There seemed to be nothing I could do to stop the attraction, as much as it didn’t make sense. We don’t touch, that’s what lovers would do. When we’re together we can keep our hands off each other. He’s never paid me a compliment. When he says I am beautiful I believe him.
~
If I’m not depressed, who am I? If I’m happy, who am I???
Distant
Who do you think is going to walk through that door?
The key to your destiny? Doubtful.
You're next one night stand?
Slightly more probable.
An unknowing piece in the puzzle you call your journey?
Could be.
What makes you the fortunate one?
Who are you to be any different than them?
You are.Different that is.
You are a fly on the wall.
They are participants.
They only speak of crazy.
You are it!
They avoid, you embrace the void.
Why must they knock on the door?
And why do you walk,
scratch that,
run away?
If you must hold onto your darkness then devour it,
become it,
live it.
Thursday, January 5, 2012
On Romance
A constant theme for me in the past nine months has been walking away from romantic relationships and prospective partners in order to turn towards some other work or part of my journey as it comes up. It came to me the other day that in this, I am cultivating my relationship with longing, and in longing for an Other I am learning more about longing for Mystery and for Soul, for Divine. I know that as I am growing an learning and my heart is aligning there may be someone standing before me in the same space and time and.....and what? Probably not a relationship in a traditional sense, who am I kidding, but I would love to have someone to explore a different kind of relationship. One based on energy and feeling and exploration of Soul. .
I was at the mall the (which has turned into one of my absolute LEAST favorite places to be) and I saw a guy that I had an affair with years ago on an adventure in the desert. It was a beautiful experience, although brief, we had an incredible connection, talking and laughing, maybe even crying and being our young, raw, vulnerable selves. It was beautiful and it did not last, nor did I expect it to. But I did not forget the time we spent together. So I saw this person, walking with his partner and their baby and he had this incredibly serene look on his face. He was happy, content and this made me happy. I was not longing for the life he had or the life I did not have with him. I felt content to have shared a few moments with an incredible human being an see my Self through his eyes.
I guess it ultimately goes back to showing up for these moments although there may be heartache and loss but a greater chance of an opening, a lasting friendship, or if I'm lucky, a poem.
The minute I heard my first love story
I started looking for you, not knowing
how blind that was.
Lover's don't finally meet somewhere
They're in each other all along
~Rumi
Wednesday, January 4, 2012
Teacher to Teacher
I did not make any new years resolutions. Last month, I began a practice of setting intentions on every new moon, and releasing every full moon. I think setting intentions monthly does not call for any shallow ambitions to be made January 1st, most likely unrealized or unpracticed by February only to be brought up again or even forgotten by next year. I will practice being gentle with my Self, an ongoing practice too significant for 2012 alone. A friend of mine mentioned that she likes to pick a word for the year. I like this and picked two today: Gratitude and Amazement.
This week alone a good word for me is humility as I cling onto old habits. One particular habit that I did not, until recently, know that I had any chance of going back too. Even as I write tonight I'm listening to a heart wrenching Cat Power song and finding comfort in the grief that resonates through the melody. But, being gentle, I'm giving myself permission to listen to sad songs for an hour or so. Winter is a time of turning inward and I am so in it. But I did not choose to do my work because I thought it would be easy and it certainly isn't as I go even deeper. I have no regrets.
Back to the gratitude part. I am so grateful for and in awe of the incredible teachers that have shown up in my life. I was working with one such teacher tonight who has become very dear to me. We dug into my past. There's more?! Of course there's more. But before we started he asked in what ways I thought I affected him. I thought about it for a moment. "Laughter", I answered. "And tenderness. You can be kind of a hard ass and I am somehow able to get past that, bring out your gentle side." We moved onto to the work but thinking about this later, I was amazed. One of the intentions I set during my last ceremony was to be shown ways to bring my gifts into this world. I forget sometimes (okay often times) that I am always sharing my gifts, although they are sometimes subtle and I can be to stubborn to see. I also recognized that this teacher was saying you teach me.
One doesn't have to work with a Shaman or a mentor to have teachers. A teacher may take the form of a lover, a friend, an enemy or a bird in the wild or someone that has gone before us. Once I opened myself up to being taught I began to realize that we are all teachers, yes, including me.
This week alone a good word for me is humility as I cling onto old habits. One particular habit that I did not, until recently, know that I had any chance of going back too. Even as I write tonight I'm listening to a heart wrenching Cat Power song and finding comfort in the grief that resonates through the melody. But, being gentle, I'm giving myself permission to listen to sad songs for an hour or so. Winter is a time of turning inward and I am so in it. But I did not choose to do my work because I thought it would be easy and it certainly isn't as I go even deeper. I have no regrets.
Back to the gratitude part. I am so grateful for and in awe of the incredible teachers that have shown up in my life. I was working with one such teacher tonight who has become very dear to me. We dug into my past. There's more?! Of course there's more. But before we started he asked in what ways I thought I affected him. I thought about it for a moment. "Laughter", I answered. "And tenderness. You can be kind of a hard ass and I am somehow able to get past that, bring out your gentle side." We moved onto to the work but thinking about this later, I was amazed. One of the intentions I set during my last ceremony was to be shown ways to bring my gifts into this world. I forget sometimes (okay often times) that I am always sharing my gifts, although they are sometimes subtle and I can be to stubborn to see. I also recognized that this teacher was saying you teach me.
One doesn't have to work with a Shaman or a mentor to have teachers. A teacher may take the form of a lover, a friend, an enemy or a bird in the wild or someone that has gone before us. Once I opened myself up to being taught I began to realize that we are all teachers, yes, including me.
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