Today, I honor all of the resistance I've had all my life, to showing up to interact with people. I honor a sensitivity in me that perceived a world disconnected and blind. I honor a part of me that wanted to shield myself from a society that was doing a lot on the surface to keep up with appearances and latest trends, but felt devoid of substance or meaning. I honor the part of me that wondered why nothing was ever really being said, when so much air space was being taken up by words. I honor the part of me that was afraid of what I couldn't find or feel--of a surface love that felt so fleeting and dangerous. I honor the part of me that was always seeking something deeper within interactions--a love that didn't feel marketed, a connection that didn't feel contrived. I honor the part of me that has been intent on digging deeper with people, creating a safe space to share much more of ourselves and our experiences, to feel our relationships deepen through this. I honor t

'Nothing grows without attention and love. Likewise, nothing remains the same when offered love and attention.' Tama Keeves I am sitting here with some time to write. I am showing up to nurture something that I keep going back to day after day-- my writing . Sometimes writing feels like it is the only time I get to really be all of me. I come home to it, after a long day, or days, and I get to come back to a process, which has really been the only thing that has helped me, since the day that life, or the meaning of it, came under greater scrutiny in my experience. It has been the only thing which has given me any real inkling of  how to begin navigating this whole crazy too long or too short (I can't decide) moment in the body. And yet, writing is also my greatest pain.  It used to be parenting, but everything is different there (*pause for applause--shit, lets give that one a bigger pause, because if truth be told, I would have never believed parenting could become

There is a softness I walk upon.  I can't see too far ahead,. I don't want to. There are shapes and symbols all around me, but I can't make sense of any of them. It doesn't matter though. Some part of me reads them just fine. In fact, I don't have to do much these days. Seems something is driving me where I need to go, in every moment. I am enjoying so much more ease of movement--so much more flow. The other day I found myself playing by new rules. In a moment when I would have normally felt on guard, I felt myself smiling, rather dumbly, completely oblivious to the daggers being thrown at me by way of the eyes. It was only a few minutes later when I walked away, that I realized I had been 'in trouble'. But there was no squirming. The daggers had no target. They lost trajectory in the air and dropped flaccid on the pavement. I had literally forgotten the rules, been rule-less , for a moment. I could not sense that I was in trouble, because there was nothing

I've been sitting with a lot lately--not quite ready to blog about it all. So much has happened behind the scenes since I left Wild Road . I really arrived somewhere. I can hardly understand it. I'm not sure how to put it into words, or even if I need to. I thought it was just in the Blogosphere that I was settling down to a new locale, but it was to be an arrival that bled into outer life. I'm still baffled. Baffled is good. My mind short-circuits on the baffled setting. Then the real power generator kicks in. If you'd asked me a year ago what my passion was, I would have said to help people break free from their chains. Now, I am beginning to see things so differently. I am seeing people as not needing me quite so much. Mother of the World,  redefined. I began my journey determined to see the world as not so broken. I just never imagined that it would actually happen, on more than an intellectual or emotional level, that is. Seems now that I can just sit back and wat

You've always told me that I wasn't enough. I've always been on the defense. What am I protecting? The one thing I know is that you are wrong about me. You've always been wrong about me. I've let you police my soul. I've let you lead me down paths that had no meaning. I've let your words leave scars. You almost had me. You almost watched me die. But I declare in this moment, that if I do nothing in this life to bring myself any glory, there is one thing I will continue to do for the rest of my days. I will wake myself up. I will laugh at how you almost got me, yet again-- at how I was this close to punishing myself eternally, at how I was almost left ragged and full of holes-- the ones made by your judgement and criticism boring into me. I will feel myself come back together then. I will feel it a close call. And if we ever meet up again, and you are the prisoner and I am the jailer, I promise you from the depths of my being, that I will let you go free.

Okay, I don't know where to begin, so, I am just beginning somewhere. I thought I completely understood what turning the lights out on Wild Road meant, and what arriving here on this blog was about. I didn't. I tried to put it in a box. It wouldn't fit. I am opening up the box and stepping out of it. What wants to be expressed here, doesn't want to be wrangled or corralled. I surrender. I am listening to a voice that says show up and create in the moment. Let this be the plot that unfolds. Let it run in torrents. Let it trickle. Let it  unfold with each melody. Let it embrace form when it wants to, let it defy it at times. Let it feel stuck if need be. Let it need rules, and then abandon them just for fun.  Just do your best to keep it wide open, aware of the workings of a mind that would try to box it in, define, artificially fabricate.  Trust what you've presented already, but feel into the freedom that birthed this whole operation, and step outside the box-- bet

Some say shadows are windows into another reality. Here is a shadow for you, an entry place into my soul-- but do not suppose that it is dark there. It takes light to produce the shadow, and I've just noticed what wasn't being illuminated, what was shadow. I've just begun to explore a world opened up by the absence of light. It began deep in meditation, the kind where your body has become so heavy with relaxation, you feel sure that you will never be able to move again, and that you must be asleep. But you have the amazing sensation that a part of you remains awake. It was during this time away from every day consciousness, a couple dozen months ago, that I had the strangest image come to me. Along my house there is a bed of roses, and the image was of me crouching there among the roses, planted in my own garden. And like those unfortunate roses, I was devoid of vital nutrients and enough water, seeking crooked paths to the sun, out of the jungle, due to lack of tending. Ro