there are those times when we have no choice but to retreat. when it is energy and not words. when the oldest, most foundational, primal cell stuff is calling. when the whispers become shouts and the knees find their way to the floor.

it is uncomfortable and necessary and simple and expected. it is every workshop and retreat and therapy session. it is every poet and guru and mystic and shaman. it is the heart that pauses and then fires too fast, and the burning between the eyes.

this is waking up in a sweat, floating above the surface, and too deep for story.

this is about embodiment, alignment, integration. but even this language does not address the grey veil and the terrifying vacuum that precedes it.

i suppose this is the beginning of awakening. of healing. of really becoming.

but all i can presence is now. the now that feels chills between my shoulder blades. the now that seeks solace in the woods, wants pasta, looks to spider webs for guidance, and sleeps better with his hand on my chest.

there are those times when we have no choice but to retreat. when the senses are amplified, when it feels like a choice between light and dark. between static and flow. between love and fear.

and so i have gone in. to be with all of it.

photo: where the shadows meet the light. october 2011.

in all things, i look for the ways we are the same. every day i listen to the soundbites of the chatter we exchange, and what i hear is the hunger to connect, to tell someone. we want to be seen, held, and heard. we want to own some visual, visceral, felt recognition that we are here. that there is progress in our evolution. that all the effort, watering, plowing through, will yield something that feeds us.

today is one of those days where i feel saturated in simplicity and complexity. i can hear the swooshing of my heart in my ears. i cry when i read or witness anything that recognizes our need for love. i have awareness of the density of this cup, the bitterness of this tea, the hum of electricity rising from the keyboard and into my fingertips. i taste date sugar in my teeth, tenderness in my belly, gaps in my cognition.

and i know that you also know what this experience is. to be stimulated and depleted. to be starved and stuffed. surrendered and resisting. to be nothing and everything. here and there. the same.

and to need to bury our faces in the words and shoulders and stories of someone else who gets it.

Wisdom tells me I am nothing. Love tells me I am everything. And between the two my life flows. ~Nisargdatta Maharaj

photo: the view as the fog lifted. santa barbara. october 2011.

this past week has offered repeated opportunities to be in the presence of strength, power, and humility. of grace, resilience, and commonality.

i hugged a Nobel Peace Prize winner, supported a deep and spiritually-skillful woman laboring to birth her first child, and shared a 2am meal with the radiant midwife who caught my own two children. i photographed a newly minted Birth Center that was manifested through the passion and persistence of an old friend. i sat on a large warm rock with another friend and chanted a duet to Laxmi. i felt the sky pour down rain, the sun shine golden, the autumn wind, the waxing moon, and stars bright just before dawn.

i witnessed subtle and profound exchanges. humanity and divinity meeting. energy reserves pushing through thresholds. the joy of accomplishment and the necessity of having our pain felt by another.

i no longer question why it is me who is called to these encounters. i no longer ask “how did i get here?” when i am in a moment with another that astounds me.

i know that i am here to experience, capture, and share beauty and connection.

to be in the presence of.

and that all i must do is surrender and remain in a state of awe.

photo: Lucila. A traditional midwife in her home exam room. San Luis de La Paz, Guanajuato, MX. August 2011. Her story coming soon.

Every girl deserves a chance to learn, to connect, to be. These girls attend a school for Tarahumara girls in Cerocahui, Mexico. I was fortunate to spend an afternoon with them on my last day in the Copper Canyon with the One Heart Team. I had been sick the day before and was still a bit woozy, unsure of whether I wanted to go. I’m so glad that I did, because these images remind me that the spirit of a girl, when activated, is nothing short of pure power and possibility.

This post is in honor of The Girl Effect and the blogging campaign that Tara Sophia Mohr has inspired. Please take the time to watch the video and decide, for yourself, how you will make a difference in the life of a girl.