the realization is that our depth becomes our greatest leverage and, ultimately, our levity. it is when we sink into the under, the encompassed, the clay that surrenders to the fire in the middle–that is when we rise into what looks like contentment.

this is not an experience of unrivaled bliss. rather, it is that collected, textured, felt and known experience of what IS. seedpods that explode in autumn and feathers that find their way to the sand. stuffing acorns into my pockets and painting walls in my home. days of questions and other days of epiphany. sifting through politics and finding the poetry.

it is, in truth, that feeling of rightness, order, timing, and being.

it is fear-driven ambition that is undone, and fallen, into grace.

and, yes, it is loving and being loved. serving and the abundant return.

in the end, it will be the foggy mornings and mountain lion encounters that i’ll want to remember. it will be their arms around me and the images that will speak our story.

i wish only that i will fall ever more deeply into vulnerable, primal, reciprocal, and sensual.

and that i will never miss a chance to walk this earth.

Stand Still.
The trees ahead and the bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be know.

~David Wagoner

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

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 no particular order)

i am exquisitely grateful, open. the citrus candle lit, the red chai steaming, the kirtan playing on the speakers. all these things that make me who i am. scent, sight, tangible. a lover and in love.

the gang was awakened, the inner chorus of critic, shameful child, jealous competitor. i don’t remember inviting them, but they’ve had their way these past couple of weeks while my body made some extra white blood cells to deal with yet another viral insurgent. they’ve made me want to eat cake, watch horrendously unintelligent television (i won’t even tell you), and feel like there are no original thoughts in my head. nothing i have to teach. name callers, they are. fraud. less-than. unmotivated. not nice. i’m doing my best to resist them. and to embrace them.

i’m processing a beautiful shoot for adesso jewelry’s sorellina spring 2012 line. inspired by santa fe, this collection just may be my favorite yet (i say that with each one). the shoot was exhausting. a very hot day in the elements, but totally worth it. i learn with each one. this time the lesson for me is to trust the shot. go deeper. and to tune out the conversation in the background. i’m social and i love to connect. it is hard sometimes while shooting to not want to participate in the chatter, especially when there is a fabulous group of people around that i rarely get to spend time with. but i’m better when i get quiet. i can tell the shots from each look when i went in. and they are the good ones. maybe even great.

i’m wanting to get back to the mexico project. i’m working to get the hours of audio transcribed while sorting out the stories and the images. a good friend reminded me that many of the best stories (think hemingway) were written after many years of absorption. i’m okay with a month or two.

daily green juice, no coffee, no sugar, no gluten, no alcohol. that’s the current food regime. i’m going for wellness. radiance. vitality. i feel tremendously better. more clear. it is not absolute, it is intention. and there is room for pleasure when i want it.

my son is in his last year of elementary school, my daughter a sophomore in high school. they are both thriving, vibrant, sweet humans. fall comes with melancholy, promise, long shadows and new routines. we’ve glided in fairly easily this year. family dinners, especially soup nights, bring me joy.

many people i know are suffering. and simultaneously awakening. i can almost see their chests opening and their bones making blood. i witness how difficult it really is to turn compassion toward the self.

time with quality people. ending each day in my lover’s arms. waking up there. the autumn sun. persimmon season. possibility. healing. finding new muscles in my body and in my heart. rhythm. cycles. kissing goodnight. ocean views and mountain solace. time. plenty of time to cultivate happiness. now. all of it is happening now.

photo: on my not-coffee break yesterday. iphone. september 2011.