i am most comfortable in the true grit. in the silt and sulphur, warm and real and pungent. i am completely at ease with your blood and your tears.  i feel safe in the company of those with dirt under their fingernails and secrets on their tongues. i am sensitive, raw, layered, capable, and receptive.

having been on the receiving end of painful language yesterday, it has taken hours into days to move through the impact of being spoken to harshly and with the intent to hurt. we all wind up here, in the entanglement of our emotions and our cumulative pain. it is an inevitable result of our merging stories and our humanity. we are wired to protect and to defend. and still, it is the softness, the vulnerable between the sternum and the spine, that i long to connect with–our sweetness, our common, our understanding. this is what i will mine for, even through the discomfort of an experience of being wronged, accused, and violated.

i believe in inherent goodness. in best intentions and in truth and love. i believe in forgiveness and also in protection. i do not want to run from any situation that triggers discomfort. but i also know when it is time to step back, to be quiet, to feel, and reflect. under the blanket of fog and silence this morning, i am remembering who i am.

and who i am is as vast and as small as any other. as young and as old. as sensitive and as solid. i am permeable, layered, and weighted to this earth–doing the best i can to stay present, grounded, here. and to see you, really see you, as the same.

The purpose of this journey is to find the voice of the deeper wisdom, the one not connected to the rational voice that keeps throwing up the ‘ifs’.
~marion woodman

i feel blank and transitional. i mop the floor and somehow that simple act is enough for the day. that, and moments at the kitchen table, walking on the beach, being held, taking pictures with my iphone. i have the fleeting worry that i may have lost my ambition. that i won’t rally and do something great. that i may become complacent or that some subverted fear is keeping me small for the time being.

but then again, opportunity still comes, the chance to witness something profound, something beautiful. i feel myself changing. restructuring. remembering.

will the hunger return for adventure? for dusty floors and woven blankets? far-reaching connections and shattering experience?

grief is a curious and subversive animal. it tames and thunks. humility and the loss of empowerment can become confused. love trumps all of it, yet can also become nebulous and excruciating. fragile, human, real. this is what i know right now. and, strangely, it is a comforting and safe place to be. expansive, even.

i believe this is presence. wide-open, heartbreaking, loving, presence. and i wouldn’t choose to have it any other way.

photos: the latest instagram. my current meditation practice.

it is raining. i wish everyone could be here with me, in this warm home, quiet, together. i plan to walk in it soon. maybe go to a yoga class. maybe not.

i’m waking up in a state of unrest most days. unsettled and unsure of what it is that happened in my subconscious during the night. no memory of the story that played out, just the residual feeling of “off.” but then i put my hands together, he tenderly kisses me and pours my coffee. i make my way to the front step where i just try to sit still. breathe. watch the sky, and my self, as we shift into daylight.

there is deep sadness in my community right now. a beloved man has left too soon. i didn’t know him personally, but i consider his wife both a mentor and friend, and i know of their family to be the kind of people that we all aspire to be. loving, committed, passionate, kind, real. they are a treasured part of the middle school that my daughter attended for three years, and that we hope for our son to attend next year. as is said, there really aren’t words. it is just tragic and sad, and my heart breaks for them. send them love, please, and make time today to look your people in the eye and tell them the truth, ok?

there is a shift coming in the way that i want to work in the world. when i first started blogging, it was about finding my way. there was a lot of honesty, and it was in that transparency that i felt connected. it was sort of revolutionary. and then i launched a new site, did some more projects, stretched in different directions. i want to return to what it was in the beginning. just me. in service to beauty and connection. maybe it will be so subtle that you won’t even notice. but i will.

as half-written verses tango with the editor inside me, i long every day for more ease. grace.

my dreams are changing. they are as far as they are near. istanbul and in this chair. no matter, i want to know me. know you. and celebrate what is here and there. i don’t want to try so hard, and lose it all in the effort. and i don’t want to hesitate when what i really want is to embrace. maybe i just want to be home, no matter where i go, without question as to whether i belong or deserve. maybe i just want to relax.

so often it feels trite. repetitive. the same. there are only so many ways to say it.

poignant, static, crashing.

shifting, solid, opening.

all of it, now.

and always.

Ultimately, it comes down to the question of just how willing we are to lighten up and loosen our grip. How honest do we want to be with ourselves?
~Pema Chödrön

photos: morning instagrams. @doorwaystraveler

fear and attraction become confused as we attach ourselves to another person. egos get stoked and plays are made to pack our wounds and stop the bleeding. vulnerability is masked in lonesome desire, and emboldened in offerings of exclusivity, refuge, a meal, and solid wood furniture. but still, secrets are kept, back-up plans reserved, and different stories told. it becomes a performance of self-preservation; dangerous and lost. we are desperate to be shown that we are ok, to be made to feel good about ourselves. in the exchange, there are parts that are guarded and held, the talismans that only years of shared sleep and mated milestones can illuminate. even beneath, where the voice cracks, we are still not sure what is real.

the questions now are: is this leading me closer or further away?  and am i courageous enough to answer?

as i sat at a chance red light in front of my child’s school today, watching with curiosity as another mother and her child cross the street and enter their day, these are the thoughts that filled me. are we really all looking for the same thing? gripping one another to find it? when the crazy irony is that it was never about you or me in our simplicity and redundant motions? and is it really true that only when we are willing to sit in the middle, burn it up, strip naked, and throw a party to the process, will we ever stand a passionate chance of being free?

from these ashes, will there be transformation, transcendence, and happiness?

or is the real truth that these things come from an altogether different kind of fire?

photo: after the burning of the effigy. jodhpur, india.