it doesn’t much matter if i am cashmere and you are lace, if i am adobe and you are marble.

what matters is that we know what we are.

if that smooth bark of the eucalyptus tree gives you insight, then it belongs with you.

and the more we surround ourselves by the shapes, the textures, the patterns, the light, the places, and the people that our hearts innately grasp toward, the more we are guided in, the more we are brought back home.

it is not about accumulating, it is about recognizing and eliminating what does not speak the truth.

it is about our senses in action, in response, in communication, consciously, with our depth.

if it really is all energy, which i believe it is, then of course this scent, this view, this season, this warm cup, this song, this flavor, and the weave of this fabric matter.

these objects and elements show me who i am, help me to relax inside, open doorways into my fullness, and help me to better express myself.

and the more i know who i am, the more i can connect to who you are. our separation, our suffering, diminishes.

there is legitimacy in your longing. i have said it before. and it keeps coming back.

Don’t share borrowed insights, there is no transmission in that.
Only share experiential insights. Real teachers practice, transmitting the formless into form.
~Sarah Powers (from my personal notes taken during Insight Yoga workshop)

(the book featured in the above image is True Refuge, by Tara Brach)

these are the days that i want to bite glass. there is a restlessness in every corner of my body. i want to unzip it, open it, rip it out. these are the days that the injustices and the absolutions scare me.

these are the days when i know to move. i walk for hours, on a hunt for mercy. my words are sharp and my thoughts relentless. the assault is unbearable and the only way to avoid destruction is to propel myself through time and space. i close my eyes as i trek toward amnesty.

these are the days when i learn to understand the inquiry required to achieve happiness, when i know that asking, naming, telling, releasing, are the pathways to healing. though they seem to be mocking me, the poets and the hummingbirds show up to tell me that this too shall pass. the right song delivers comfort. the shock of aloe blooms change the narrative. slowly and subtly, i change too.

these are the days that i am keenly aware of the shadows looking through my windows and yet i keep dancing naked in front of them.
perhaps i deserve it, perhaps i have granted an invitation to lurk and haunt.
and still, i will continue to follow the succulent’s wisdom and bloom candidly–even when it appears absurd.
in the name of freedom. in the name of hope. in the name of all that brings us closer.

Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile, the world goes on.
~Mary Oliver

we drove into winter, into below zero, with everything that matters on four wheels. there was nowhere else i’d rather have been than with them. my hand held, the palpable intricacy and delicacy of all that we have shared on this road between colorado and california. as the miles passed, i thought of what it has meant to raise our children into their teenage years, of the depth and heartache shared in twenty-two years of relationship. i thought of all the boundaries pushed, the fears faced, the gains and the losses. i thought about forgiveness and humility. i thought about what is coming and what no longer is.

as this new year begins, i am without many plans and outward ambitions. i find myself still taking form in surrender, in letting-go, in allowing slowness and service to prevail. i want to laugh more. i want to spend time daily in nature. i want to know myself as a guide and a healer, but first to myself.

i want to continue to explore the relationship to what captures us –wind, water, humanity and howling. i want to know vitality and vulgarity, where the rough spots wear down to reveal something alluring and elegant. i want to tell the truth of these things, in imagery and with honesty.

i believe that light prevails. even though each and every one of us will wind up in the most senseless of dramas where the smallest parts of our brains, and the arrested parts of our hearts, will make decisions that wound and hurt, i still have to believe that light will prevail. my prayer for 2013 is that i may know this light as a home that i may always return to– in my body, in my relationship, in my service, and in the world. a home in which i may feel settled and rooted. a home that is a sanctuary and a foundational place to return to for respite and nourishment.

as the mountains rise and the rivers run, may we all remember this home that we share. the one where the light does not dim, and where there is peace waiting at the threshold.
i will meet you there.

I open the window and snow has fallen in a
steep drift, against the pane, I
look up, into it,
a wall of cold crystals, silent
and glistening, I quietly call to you
and you come and hold my hand and I say
I cannot see beyond it. I cannot see beyond it.
~Sharon Olds, from the poem True Love

eventually it will come. the righteous darkness, seeking redemption and revenge. how dare we be happy? even in our flawed humanity? even with apology and remorse?

the way i see it, we always have a choice. to know our shadow. to tell it or to withold it. to use it as ammunition or to protect it. to twist it, to churn it, to allow it to rise. to transcend or to fall in.

i was born with the ability to see. i understand the vulnerable and wounded. i understand the crazy and the broken. i understand the contradictions and the shades of grey. i understand how we can defy our own goodness, how we can act to destroy the precious, because we do not believe we are worthy of it.

there is burden for the one who understands. how i have wished at times that i could see it all in harsh polarities and to place blame in absolutes.
but my strength is in my capacity for expanded viewpoints. my freedom is in knowing what is beyond.
and it is from here that i will respond when an arrow is shot at me.
it is from here that i will remember what is real.
it is from here that i will continue to choose love, and all that is holy.

Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.
Ideas, language, even the phrase “each other” doesn’t make any sense.
~Rumi