in the past couple of  days, i've smacked my eye on a chair (hard), received deep scratches on my forearm from some rusty nails (yes, i got a tetanus shot) and stepped in gum. that's just the top three. i've also bumped into walls, slammed a cabinet door onto my finger and burned myself making tea. all of a sudden, it seems that treachery is everywhere and it requires heroic agility to get through my day unscathed. my husband has placed me on safety quarantine and warned the kids not to wrestle with me. mama can't get hurt before she leaves for india…

i'm going too fast. a smack on the skull from the universe told me so. seems no matter how intentional i am, there is always the last minute push when organizing and readying for a trip. there are always more errands, more laundry, more list making and phone calls than i hoped for. it was really my intention to be all ready to go by last night. have everything packed and to simply relax with my family over the weekend. and i am mostly done. but there's still a little bit more. still more things i'd like to have. still fretting about my wardrobe. wondering if i really need this or that. wondering if my family will need this or that. you know what i mean.

the nerves have kicked in again too. my body is all riled up and ready to go. manifesting in all kinds of quirky weirdness–mostly having to do with breathing and eating. anticipation is so much worse than just doing it. the wait in line much more stressful than the roller coaster ride. but it is also every bit a part of the journey. the buildup, the expectation, to contrast later with the actual experience.

so here i sit this sunday morning. heeding the call to stop the frenzy. licking my wounds and applying salve. slowing down and taking care not to have any more run-ins with inanimate objects. remembering that i 'd like to see the doorways, not slam into them unconsciously. remembering that, for any given sojourn, we need so much less than we think we do. that packing and preparedness can only take us so far. it's the work we do inside that matters so much more. love, nourishment, and sustenance. the ways we center, get present, and stay real. reminding myself, once again, that i'm in this to experience beauty and connection–and, to do that, it would be helpful to show up in one piece.

have you been going to fast, too? slammed into any furniture lately?

the subject line read, "Just jump. You are fearless."

the email was from a dear friend.  it held within it this photograph of my daughter along with the some of the kindest, most soulful words of encouragement i have ever received. among them were the words thank you, inspiration, courage and i love you.

tell me, what more is there? what more could anyone need to hear?

i'm really getting it. 

more deeply each day.

the ah-ha's and the gifts that come when we are living as we are meant to live. 

reminders from god, the universe, and one another, of the bounty in being true and real and saying yes.

laying it all down, so that we may rise up.

for ourselves, our families, our communities.

for humanity.

this isn't just about a trip to india. or writing. or taking pictures.

this is so much more.

(doorways and freedom)

i don't know that i am fearless. but i am a lot less afraid. 

i am awakened. 

and i will jump.

morning addition:

i woke wanting to share two things i read yesterday that speak right to the core of where i am today. the first is this post from jen lemen on having the courage to create what we most need to find. the second is this entry on being fearless, by chris guillebeau.

and, finally, may we remember all those who left this earth on 9.11.01. may we love fully and deeply today and always, ourselves and each other. and may we not allow our fears any chance in hell of holding us back from seizing each precious moment…

thank you, k., for the photo, the email, and for coming into my life. 

maybe it was the dream i had last night about a venomous snake on my back that was about to bite the base of my spine (evoking awarness of serpentine kundalini).

or maybe it is that today marks one week before i depart for squam art workshop and then, from there, to india. 

or perhaps it is that this is the last official day of our summer break, as my daughter returns to school tomorrow. 

whatever it is, the alchemy of this moment finds me open, alert and aware of those things that cannot be seen. subtleties and nuance. a vibration, a hum. 

this is the  pre-dawn of a new day, a new season,  a new life. 

yes, there is a shift  happening. from transitioning to just being. from dream to real. from separate to union.

i guess this is called integration. the manifestation of truth. authenticity.

or maybe i am just happier. and more in love.

when we first returned to santa barbara from boulder, colorado, four years ago, we lived in a funky old house with a little trail beside it. the first time i walked it, i discovered that about half way up, on the side and nearly hidden by the tall grasses, there was a little stick in the ground with a laminated sheet of paper attached. i almost walked right by, thinking it was some sort of boundary marker or something. but something made me stop and take a second look. and there i found one of my favorite poems by mary oliver. there was a lot of sadness in me then. looking back, i can see that that time was truly the darkness that needed to come before the light. a lot of excavation happened during that year. it became my practice to always kneel down and read the poem in it's entirety each time i walked the trail. i knew that the poem fairy  had left this one for me, and others like me, who wanted to dare to be happy. but who maybe weren't sure how yet.

i'm copying it below. this is my offering for you today. for all of us.

Every morning

the world

is created.

~mary oliver, morning poem

may we trust that things are exactly as they should be.

and may we dare to be happy. dare to be free.

the band-aid is from the travel doctor. final immunization for india today, along with a handful of prescriptions to fill and carry with me just in case. after a long chat with the doc about malaria, dysentery and other fabulous potential deal-breakers, i got in the car and knew that i needed to come home and make a list. make a list for myself of all the reasons why i am going on this trip with salaam garage to rajasthan. 

1. because i have to. 

2. because if i didn't, i would be ignoring the truth inside of me. 

3. because this is one hell of a doorway–the potential for beauty and connection limitless–the opportunity to help change the course of lives for the women and children served by vatsalya, with my creative projects, a dream come true.

4. because i get to learn from this incredibly accomplished team.

5. because i have always wanted to go to india, she's been calling for a long, long time.

6. because i want my children to see that, at any age, it is possible to recreate oneself and tune in to your purpose in this world.

7. because being safe is an illusion.

8. because i want to.

9. because i need to.

10. because i have to.

i have read enough about india to know that one can never read anything that will truly do her justice. i expect the extremes, the assault on the senses, the devastation and the sublime bliss. the amplification of humanity, in all it's desperation and resilience. i expect to be rattled and triggered, cracked-open and extended. 

i know that i will miss my family and they will miss me. this is the maiden voyage–the testing of the vessel which is my heart. big enough and open enough to love myself as much as i love them. to set myself free on the right path to grow my gifts. to connect from this new definition of self–one that is authentic, passionate, and brave. 

you know that warm, deep, tingling feeling that you get in your chest when something touches you? the moment when the tears of resonance come?

i'm having it right now. 

"For we have not come to take prisoners Or to confine our wondrous spirits, But to experience ever and ever more deeply Our divine courage, freedom, and Light!" -Hafiz

this is what it's about. 

this is why i am going.