Skip to main content


Showing posts from September, 2009

Pink Gook

Most of the time, we feel that if we were to let go of control, our lives and the lives of those around us would go up in flames. What if we could just let go and trust that it was all happening as it should? One night, meditating, I had the chance to experience this profound letting go and trust on a deeper level. While I was meditating I had some interesting images coming to me. I imagined myself floating on top of the Sea of Awareness, where exists all of the wisdom of the universe, from which all is manifest. I existed within this vastness as this kind of dense, formless, hot pink (I don't know why it appeared pink), rubbery, gook that had coagulated on the top of the water, and could not mix with with the Sea. I just floated on top and stayed together as painfully compact as I could in this dense, rubbery, waterproof form. I imagined the ocean that I floated upon as the release, the expansion, the gentle undulating that I was aware of around me, but with which I couldn't m

Taming Chocolate

This is an experimental post. Its purpose is to help me work through an issue that I've been having. Here is my issue: chocolate, dreamy, creamy, decadent, sinful, chocolate-- but periodically it can be narrowed down to anything sweet. I am completely baffled by my experience and my crazy addiction to the stuff, so, I decide to spar with it tonight. So here are my thoughts: Round 1: I love chocolate. I have always loved chocolate. I have always enjoyed where I am more if there was chocolate. I have enjoyed my friends and family more with chocolate. My life is greatly enriched by this wonderful drug. Round 2: Since, I have always felt a little out of sorts in the physical realm, here in my physical body, chocolate has taken on even greater significance. It has become somewhat of a security blanket. I can take it out when I ain't feelin ' so good. The insight: So chocolate is there to enhance the good, to ease the pain of the bad. There is one given: when I give it to my body

Getting Down With a Cold!

Painting by Julia Fehrenbacher This is going to sound crazy, but I got down with a cold this weekend! And I am ever so thankful. Really. Here's why...I forgot how hard it is to stay connected when you don't feel good; when the only thing you can tune into is your aching body, and stuffy head. I had forgotten. It'd been so long since I'd been sick. This weekend, I was reminded, and I had the opportunity to do it differently. I decided to flow with my sneezing, my running eyes, and my body aches--as an experiment. I decided to look at my cold from another angle, and to use it as a practice. I kept asking myself the entire time, what I could learn, and how I could break free from my mind that wanted to throw myself a pity-party. I was looking for something profound, but in my state, the main message I was getting, was slow down . I figured I had two choices. I could abandon all routine, or keep it going, but feel very bad in the process. I decided that I was going to embr


Photo by Lyn Move me, oh universe, let your quiet force take me softly outside of all illusion, outside of every assumption, beyond even the tiniest fear. Let me fall into you. Let me walk this path never touching the ground, and let those who witness say that there can be no other explanation for how she traveled so far and so wide, except that she was taken up on wings of a power so great, as if to spiral inside and outside of it all, bridging heaven and earth, turning all hearts homeward, and all this in great, crashing, waves of joy. Faith is me standing outside of all it, and then, with no hesitation, taking big, gaping, sloppy, steps into the eye of the storm. Faith is feeling the wind ripping at my body and surrendering to it, and letting it carry me, wondrously awaiting where I will land. Faith is living from my heart, and settling for nothing less than this; tenderly coaxing it out into the open, and watching it beat brave and strong. Faith is feeling the magnificent electrom

No Pollyanna

I feel like I need to ground some of this a bit. I want to say that it isn't always easy to see the beauty, that there are moments when things would be much more desirable if they came at me in another way. It would be much easier if I could just have the answers and not have to have so much faith. Sometimes it takes every part of me to squeeze the beauty and insight out of a situation. I feel frustration, pain, anger, and sadness. The only difference is that I try to see past it to what it might have to show me. I am committed to new vision, because I want to be free. But I am no different than any other human being, even if I funnel all of the beauteous parts into this blog. I am no different than any mother, having moments when I am driven crazy by my girls, like tonight when we played a board game (which is actually pretty rare--I don't particularly enjoy playing with young kids. I get bored quickly and become overwhelmed by the lack of predictability). My youngest was boun

Soul Harvest

Oh, the bounties of the earth! Is it me, or does it seem that there is so much possibility in the air, so much love, so much peace, just ripe for the taking. I couldn't help but feel it as I opened my front door today and found a box of delicious jewels of the earth left to me anonymously! I couldn't help but feel it after my treasured friend tracked me down with a dozen eggs from her personality-plus chickens. Recently my friend brought me grapes from her garden and some fresh halibut that her husband had caught. Perhaps these gifts seem small to some, but to me they are a gigantic part of my manifesting well-being in my life. I take notice of the small things, because together they become great. By sharing their gifts, these friends have given me a little piece of magic for my kitchen, put me back in touch with where my food comes from. There is a richness in knowing the origins of my food, in knowing that someone lovingly cultivated the fruit and vegetables for me, gathered


Wide Open painting by Julia Fehrenbacher Yesterday I found out that a teacher at my daughter's school isn't there because she was diagnosed with breast cancer and over the past few months had undergone a double mastectomy, painful reconstructive surgery, and of course, chemo. Everyone is rallying around this young woman, and painfully afraid of what will happen to her two young daughters. This woman is the picture of health, beautiful, charismatic, and certainly the unlikeliest of candidates to ever have to fight cancer, as if the victim should hold a certain profile. I was surprised yesterday, when I found out, however, that I wasn't feeling pain in the same way as the others around me. I was taking in the story, but my old way of processing information wasn't there. I wasn't weighed down by the news for the rest of the day, waiting for time to dull the ache of something that I didn't understand, that felt so unjust and so insane. My heart wasn't aching a

Sweet Silence

I am tired at the moment, very tired. My eyelids are heavy as I write this. I am quiet. My mind is quiet. I feel myself wanting to retreat into the world of the spirit after a busy day. I sink into the silence. I let go of expectations of what I must leave here, trusting that the act of sharing has its own alchemy. I send out tiny ripples and set them free with no need to see if they are far reaching. I sit with a quiet heart, a content heart; here by myself, I know that I am not alone. I feel no wanting, no needing. Wait, a subtle pang: my girls sleep at their dad's tonight. I can't go and kiss their sweet sleeping faces, feel comforted by their rhythmic breathing, or take in their delicious scents, in the flesh that is--but this pang is easily dispelled by my heart, which finds itself much more open, with much more faith in things unseen, and much more aware of what is real. Instead of thinking about what I don't have, I notice what I do; the beautiful silence of this mom

Beyond Illusion Part II: A Return to Me...and You

Sharing a Moment another painting by Julia Fehrenbacher So, how do we begin this journey back to our hearts? Every journey is different, but all paths lead to peace. I can only tell you mine, and hope that it will speak to the truth within you, and that you will find your way, or confirm it within your own experience. My journey begins with a little protection from the outside. This might sound rather harsh, but the first thing that I did, that would have a significant impact on my life, was to turn the tv/media off. Your Soul has to speak loudly to compete with the myriad of voices and interpretations of reality, and it often isn't heard above the noise, not to mention that when we are engaged in watching most of what is on tv, we spend our time in an altered state, no longer aware of our surroundings and our relationships. Yes, completely off. Oh, I didn't go cold turkey. I eased out of it. This was many years ago now. I remember the days of waiting for the titillating next

Beyond Illusion Part I: A New Way of Being

Breaking Free, acrylic painting by my dear friend Julia Fehrenbacher (Thank you so much for reading and for your emails and comments, connecting with my words and finding a little of yourselves contained within. It is both validating and inspiring). I am fascinated with perception. I am fascinated by the fact that there can be so many viewing angles of a situation, and each of them equally valid, or not. Unfortunately, once you get outside of the realm of judgement, the sky is the limit as far as possibilities for right or wrong. It can twist the mind into a knot, but the spirit always has access to the wisdom and clarity in any given situation. There is no one-size fits all with the spirit. The workings with our innate knowledge and intuition always feel open and loving to the self and others. It calms, it soothes, and it heals. There is always a peaceful solution. My mother called me yesterday, saying, that she didn't know what was wrong, that she had so much to do in her house,

Finding the Face of God

This morning I had a dentist appointment for a cleaning. My initial thoughts when I woke up? Ugh, it is today already? I have this sacred time with myself, while my kids are in school, and I have to spend it in the dentist's chair? Not even something efficient like getting groceries, or organizing the office. Then my thoughts shot around to my brushing habits, and I could feel myself making the ever empty promise, that I would start brushing as well as my soon to be x-husband, who never had an ounce of build up, so, my visits would be as short as his were. So, after I dropped the girls at school, I made my way to my appointment, doing my best to allow all of the constricted thoughts about how my time was being spent, and at the same time find the appreciation in knowing that I was taking care of my physical body, and that it was just as significant as communing with my spirit. Little did I know, the beautiful way I would be shown, that the gifts of the spirit are ever contained in

A Little Day Dream

This morning, I am setting intentions about how I want to use my precious time. I can no longer believe in the ideas that speak to my fear, and would have me limit myself to the imaginary fences around me. So, I must daydream now. If this time with myself could look like anything, with absolutely no template in place... I soar high through the sky in my creativity, letting the currents take me where they will, my eyes closed, my heart open, and trust keeping me airborne. I return to a quieter time in the distant recesses of my mind, the earth warm beneath my feet, carrying what grows up out of the earth in my hands, hearing all of it speaking to me; cradling life within and outside of me, the sun at my back, the rain on my face; a time when my breath is deeper and my spirit is grounded with a knowledge of things unseen. No expectations. No right way. Not a passive time, however, a time of joy and working together, in harmony, for the betterment of all. I uplift you, you uplift me. I a

Super Hero

The other day my arm was sore, and I noticed that I had some kind of red bump. I guessed that it must be a spider bite, and the first thought that came to my mind, is cool, maybe it will give me super powers or something. That was the most random thought, but symbolic of how open I am becoming to the idea that our thoughts literally create reality, and that anything is possible. After you have been examining the foundation of your mind for a while, it is as if you can see a blue print of it, and the less than perfect infrastructure of your conditioning; in essence, how you became you. If you walk around the perimeter, you can see how every brick was laid just a little unevenly, cracks in the mortar, loose siding, leaking gutters-- I was very surprised to find that no materials used to build my mind were anywhere near economical, not to mention environmentally friendly. Not one appliance was energy efficient! No, it was more like, let's slap together a shoddy apartment with a horri

Sacred Space

Dear, sweet moments, all alone with you, let me recognize this sacred space. My children are in the hands of wonderful teachers right now, in the perfect place for them, and I am alone to cherish these moments of ease and flow, without disruption. Let me practice flowing when it is the easiest. This is my gift to my children, and to me, to practice flowing, presence, inner peace, healed perception... I am grateful for this moment. I know what beauty it holds. I recognize the gift. In this moment, all is possible. Let me flow with it, and miss none of the beauty.

Get Ready, Get Set, Go! Find That Bliss!

Two little girls who know how to play. My teachers in following my bliss! Most mornings, I wake up with something that resembles homesickness, but for a place that I can't pinpoint. There is a little tinge of sadness and perhaps some anxiety. Today I can't blame it on the kids, because they are with their dad, although their fighting can make the feeling much more pronounced. No, right now it is silent, and peaceful, but my heart is feeling a little unsteady. So, I write through it. I sit very still, and I begin to notice my breath. It feels a little shallow. I try to define the uncomfortable sensations; feels something like guilt. As if I ran away from home, and can't find my way back, and that I should have been home long ago. I breathe more deeply, because I recognize that I am being thought , just as I am being breathed. I have no more control over my thinking than I do over my breathing. However, I do have control over which thoughts I choose do identify with. And a


Heartspace The clock pushes 2am We giggle Our bodies sinking into the softness of the bed ready to welcome sleep that is unreachable, even at this witching hour He reads Pema Chodron to me and I snuggle him from behind feeling his warmth Our minds buzzing, opening to the possibilities I feel Christmas wounds closing Illusions of reality resting peacefully in shallow graves until next year when I hope their haunting will be laughable He reaches his book toward the lamp seeking the light like a plant reaching its leaves to the sun to complete its photosynthesis He says he's a closet believer and I know he is I feel it when he puts his hand on my thigh to steady me as I read him my words streaming with love for a life and a family, for a word that at the moment I wear inside 'believe' I feel it as we look out onto the horizon together and take in the breathtaking view of the valley sprinkled by sugary snow I feel it as we hope that no one will ever destroy this beauty before u

Dear Darling Soul

Photo by Lyn I don't know your name, but your story is familiar, and I am so glad that our paths crossed tonight. I am so glad that there in the beauty supply shop, where we all go hoping that our beauty will be supplied, I met you. I had no idea that you were dying inside. You smiled as you talked about the war with your gray hairs, coming on much too early. "I am right there with you!" I said. And then with a serious smile, you talked about how painful it was for you to be so ugly, (which you weren't). You said you almost wanted to go home and commit suicide. You laughed, but I knew it wasn't funny. You had parked your car at the curb, just to run in quickly, because you didn't have the strength to unstrap your little ones and bring them into the store. You had to find your sanity, hoping that it might be contained in a little tube of hair color. You apologized, admonishing your mothering, and that you shouldn't be out in public anyway, looking like yo

For You, Dad...

Something I wrote a while back, that I enjoyed becoming reacquainted with... How do I link arms with you after all these years and walk down the long gravel road lit by the bright summer moon, the Snake River rushing by. You implored me to always remember that night; my tiny hand, a miniature of yours, snuggled tightly in your grasp as we stargazed, as you spoke from your heart to mine. Perhaps you were planting a tiny seed from your soul for later on, for a time when age was on our faces, on our graceful, long-fingered hands, in our beautiful tangled minds; when you might need a kindred soul to show you your reflection with warmth... When my ear had sprung a telephone and my world had shrunk, you took the time to neatly cut out that newspaper cartoon and tape it to my bedroom door; the one with the father who tells the Encyclopedia salesman that he has no need for any, because he has a teenage daughter who knows everything. You believed we were worlds apart, coexisting on time-lines