Monthly Archives: September 2011

The Buzz of Adventure

I watched a documentary on Nostradamus tonight. I am a sucker for historical documentaries, and I love a mystery. But it didn’t have the same effect on me as it would have in the past. I was not afraid. I suppose it is easier to believe in death and destruction, to watch the news and chastise each other. But I won’t tonight. I’m not at war with myself anymore. Right now, peace fills my mind. If it takes forever to get it, that’s all it takes to make up this mind.

As we witness to so much fear and insecurity in this world of chaos, we adventure to know ourselves better, to build new life based on truth, not dire warnings and “facts”.

It is spring in the minds of many, who see fall not as end, but beginning.  The rays of the mind’s day keep me warm at night, buzzing with new adventures and life.

There is no war in ourselves, we are safe to explore. No dynasty to pursue. Only what’s true. The traveler’s path is wide. Our knowledge may be thin, but our collective wisdom vast. We must not go it alone, but venture together if we are to find our true path.I feel the heart’s passages in the heart’s mind, written for all time,  just in time, in no time at all.

We are on this path. We wear our backpacks bouncing with promise (and pens!).  We chant hymns. We seek the sky at night. We foresee great adventure and everlasting joy.

This may be an idealist’s story, but my vision is not just my own. It surfaces everywhere in the collective mind. It is the eternal ray of light, not of fire but of Life.

I feel the buzz of New Life crackling out of the old. Whatever has been saved is now mine to hold. Much like with archaeology or ancestry, the old is not forgotten or denied, but something new shines forward. It has to. That is our job now. Our collective cradle if you will. Ironically, it is the most solid stance from which to begin.

We are fortunate to live from this place. To have the permission, the passion, the fire in us that won’t go away. I am stirred to be the one to tell it, sing it, believe in it, shape it and mold it into being. I am grateful to share it with those who want it more than anything that has gone before. To open that door… That is all we are up to. That is all any of us, if we are honest, really wants anymore.

Ahh, to take up permanent residence through the Heart’s door.

Mmmm…… Isn’t it sublime to be You at last?

I Can Only Be Me

Today I have had a bit of a day. You know what I mean? I really can’t say I was happy today, and that bothers me. I have been so conscious lately of my effect on the world – meaning my little family, friends, work, what I can perceive as being around me. I don’t even realize all the ripples that go out beyond that!

No, today I feel like I failed at being me. Does that sound crazy, or what?! But it’s true. When you come in contact with your “best me” it is very hard indeed to fallback into the old patterns of “poor me”.  And it is very hard for others when we fail to deliver the best of what we can be.

All of us are human, and thankfully, that includes me. I have to remember that as I am walking uphill with my dog pulling me very hard from in front. Staggering to catch up with myself, grumpy and  mean, sad even.  I don’t need to explain. You know the feeling.

It doesn’t matter “why” we are sad, mad, very angry or even glad. What matters is that we recognize we are HUMAN after all. We are a SPECTRUM of varying colors and patterns. And although I loath to admit that I might be weaved into some undeniable shape or pattern, it seems to be. I fight it, I try to rework it, I struggle and want to tug and pull and tear it to pieces sometimes. But, it’s me. All of it.

Now, what is this pattern/shape/colour?  Is it real. Is it something to get all worked up about? Are our failings so important? Is our bad day really such a big deal? Or is it all surreal… A cloud over a darkened sky – an inconceivable darkness that just won’t seem to go away – all the while knowing that tomorrow is ‘another day’.

I know it is and will be. I have experienced the colours and shapes of my fabric on life, my ‘take’ that varies from day to day. These variations make it all the more obvious to me that I don’t really have a clear picture at all. That my moods and variations are really a seam, a division, a kind of separation.  I don’t see what is behind me or before me, above me or below  me.

I don’t really see.

This is good news!  Like a giant sleeping in the grass, who doesn’t know how big he is until he stands. All he sees is the tiny grass waving in his hands and the dark and scary night.  He has  no idea that he is surrounded by a tiny world in great need of what he brings. His strength, his power, his gentleness.

the unhappy giant

Yes, even a giant can be kind, though he may appear to be quite grumpy to those running beneath his feet.

Stewing Stupalicious Soup!

I am sitting tonight in a candlelit room my son left behind him as he moved downstairs. It was a coming of age moment long overdue that I resisted, but  now I wonder why I waited so long! Here I am, sitting at this room he lived in as a small boy, staring up at me from the lower bunk bed, afraid of the dark, or upset by bullies, or nervous about a new school, dreaming and talking and asking all kinds of questions.  Now he is grown, answering them for himself and feeling quite proud of his new life and new high school. And I am so proud of him.

But I am proud of me too. Because instead of being sad or feeling at a loss, I have gained too. He told me to go ahead and use his old room to create a nook for myself, put in my own desk, decorate the walls, christen it the new “creativity room”.  And so, here I sit talking to you in the new room as if no time has passed, except it is the future now and I am as open and new as he.

Aaaaah….. Love is sweet. And freedom too. Although four walls still surround me, they are different, and I am too. I love this new me, creating possibility, and enjoying the newness of all the friends I meet, all the plans we create. It is so, so sweet.


Blessing on the World


It’s time to share, all of you, who you are and what you are. There is no time for mundanities, no time for never – too late, or ‘not care’. Just go girl, do man, do what you can.

Rise from the ashes, brush off your hands. Rise to the calling that calls to your Soul, the effer-bud, the ever-ash, the never-ending Call. Who are you? It speaks. It gives you your Name. What are you? It asks, coyly brushing you clean. Do you remember the time when none of these questions toyed with your mind? When you were free?

A friend called me a “Soul Writer” today – I was struck dumb. That was a good Name. I was grateful for her recognition in the moment of what I am. What I can do. I can rise above the ‘I don’t think I can’. When I write, I play with you. I remind you what you are too.