Sunday, December 1, 2013

Autumn into Winter: The Turning


See with every turning day,
how each season wants to make
a child of you again, wants you to become
a seeker after rainfall and birdsong,
watch how it weathers you to a testing
in the tried and true, tells you
with each falling leaf, to leave and slip away,
even from the branch that held you,
to go when you need to, to be courageous,
to be like a last word you’d want to say
before you leave the world.

  David Whyte *

If only I could find such courage, such child-innocence, right now. I do remember how it felt. Aliveness seeping through each pore. Meeting the spectacle of Leaf Flurries and the taste of Fresh Air, upon opening our big front door to step outside. 

Six years old and the entire outdoor world was enchanted! Drenched in early morning sunshine: steamy wisps of mist, rising from the mossy green fields to dance in shimmery golden light. Eucalyptus and Pepper trees. Blue Sky. Birdsong. Vacant lots. Wood Piles. Horses, sheds, and rabbit hutches. Cherishing this solitary wonderland with all my heart and soul. The old wooden bridge over the sandy wash.

While the family still slept in their beds, I vividly remember making those very first, fresh, crunchy foot prints across the crisp sheet of morning frost, that glazed the surface of our yard. And each next step was a brand new breaking of ground--just like the first one--over, and over, again. Starting anew. Stepping through the crust. On my way . . .

" leave and slip away, 
even from the branch that held you, 
to go when you need to, 
to be courageous..."

Something about Life right now, wants to slip away. Wants to let go of the whole tree. Climb down from a bare branch, once full of leaves and sap. Something knows it is time to go. Time to find a hidden courage. To face the Vast Unknown without flinching.

What might that 'last word' be? Before leaving the familiar world behind? What would I want to say? What would want to be expressed through me? I no longer have any idea what 'the tried and true' even means. Certainly, courage seems elusive at best. Clueless is the closest I can come to describing where I am. I feel tested on every level. 

Once, I thought I knew what I wanted (ultimately, anyway), and there was a dream inside, with something stable at the core of it's ever-shapeshifting nature.

It is important to pay attention to the branches: IF we do not know when to let go, LIFE steps in with it's saw, it's ax, and it's purpose. Without asking, LIFE can make swift, determined moves. I am not clinging to anything. Merely peering out the window as leaves turn red, yellow, brown, and flutter to the ground. If I put on my boots, or stepped outside, with my car keys; there would still be the same issue:

How to let go? And then there's the little matter of that 'last word'. But most of all, I have no idea what, where, why, when. There was a time when I did know all of those things. A time of certainty. A time when words never failed me. I don't know anything, anymore.


* Excerpt from ‘Coleman’s Bed’ in ‘River Flow:
New and Selected Poems’
©David Whyte and Many Rivers Press

Monday, November 25, 2013

Connection Threads

What actually happens when we feel excited, afraid, inhibited, or impelled by desire? In any room where there is a power-play going on, or flirting, a dynamic conversation, an argument, or quiet observation: we have a blend of very different fields of energy. If we could turn the picture into a representation of the actual waves, that comprise the people and the objects in the room; if our visual impression were to consist of these waveforms, instead of the solid bodies, present in that space, what would we see?

Have you ever wondered what your own energy field might look like, if it were suddenly revealed to anyone who wanted to see it?

A most interesting array of colors, shapes, and substances would be seen colliding, merging, yielding, expanding, contracting, floating, flying, and continually changing form. Each impulse surfacing from some innate source, would swirl forth like living paint, creating the canvas of Life. But if all these various colors and forms refuse to stay put, they would simply spread, run, blend and bleed, unrestrained and fluid, until the original colors had totally ceased to exist and like a kalidescope, the ever-changing shapes and combinations, would continue to fascinate and compel the observant eye with their shapeshifting dance.

Between any two people who feel connected to one another, there is a chord, which vibrates. Invisible to most (except for those who can see energy fields). These 'connection threads' display the energetic vibrations, which actually pull these individuals together; and release them as they move apart. This thread consists of waves, (strings of light and energy being sent and received). Such waves can be felt, and they do change the shared fields of energy itself. The two separate energy fields will join and there will be a new, third field, created, as well. If we could SEE these chords of connection, they might seem like intertwined threads.

Being linked by touch, or through any of our senses, each individual will actually experience a sensation of 'the other' running through their being. We've all known how it feels to hear something another person tells us and immediately have a jolt of excitement, fear, aversion, or love, course through our body. Our entire being registers it, much like the voltage current that moves through electrical cords. There is power behind the energy of existing.

Such 'connection' can happen from across the room. It can occur as a result of a gaze from eye-to-eye; a tone that vibrates after someone speaks--or even more strongly and inexplicably, as a heartache or a memory that elicits hormones, which rush through our blood stream and tingle along our nerve tracks.

Whenever this happens there are no longer merely 2 separate, distinct individuals. There are 3 entities now: the energetic field of connection itself is a force field. It is created out of the interaction. In a room where the connection occurs, the 2 people can walk out of the room, yet, those who are sensitive, may walk into the room afterward, and FEEL the energy that remains: the third thing, which was created by the merging of two separate fields of energy. IT can affect the room and those nearby, as the vibrations of the recent interaction hang in the air.

This is not imaginary. It is scientific fact. Simply because not all people can SEE energy fields, does not negate their existence. Those who are well aware of the power inherent in any connection, also strongly realize the importance of choosing which sort of energy one is willing to experience. This insight affects everything from choice of workplace, housemates, partners, and places, that one is willing (or not willing) to inhabit. A place carries an innate energy. A room may have it's basic energy level temporarily affected by someone who had an angry outburst there. A moment of tenderness and compassion can fill a room with soothing vibes, with an actual real and detectable impact on any occupants.

The more aware we become of such factors, the more conscious we grow about our own ability--and choice--to remain open to the energy, wherever we find ourselves, or to intentionally protect ourselves from unhealthy forces. It would be an entirely new and complex topic to explore what sort of options and approaches exist toward such self-preservation.

Even if this is not something we have directly considered, there is an innate, unconscious tendency to monitor energy fields and readjust our own way of relating or behaving, in order to feel balanced and safe. There is the matter of 'giving & receiving', which plays a big part, as well. The more individuals we have in one space, the more complex the interplay of energetic fields will become. We often see this in a group where a strong advocate tries to protect someone who is being bullied or coerced by a more powerful or dominant individual.

If we could see the actual waves in a room, where people are busy interacting, with a wide range of 'types' and a mixture of harmony and disharmony--it would be quite a colorful and perhaps chaotic canvas of shapes and form.

Friday, October 18, 2013

Pressing the PANIC Button

Have you ever wondered whether or not you would press it? If you were seized with panic, and you saw one of these, what would you do? If you did push it, what might happen? What sort of response would you expect?

Relieved to Wake Up, this morning, I opened my eyes from a dream, where I'd been gripped by a sense of panic (and I don't recall any reason for it). Along with the powerful effect of this emotion--in my dream--I'd been staring at a Panic Button on the wall. 

I was standing there deliberating over whether, or not, to go ahead and push the button. I was trying to gauge the extent of panic I felt; wondering if it was actually severe enough to set off this alarm? But I couldn't make up my mind what to do. That's when I woke up. 

Immediately, I went online to find the exact button, that I'd seen in my dream. Row after row, of different panic alarms were featured. I asked my husband which one he liked best. 

"I don't like any of those because they don't look like they would work." he said, eliminating a series of rows with the sweep of his finger, "I'll take this one." He finally said, stopping at the one that's illustrated, above. I love his pragmatism. It never occurred to me that it might not work!

I am fascinated by the difference in our perspective: I wondered if I should actually push the button at all, and he wondered if it would work when he did push it. Neither of us said anything at all about WHAT we expected to happen, IF we did set off the alarm. But there was an underlying presumption that if it worked, then some sort of response would follow.

The most interesting thing about my dream, however, is what ended it. It was my serious deliberation about actually pushing that panic button, which jolted me AWAKE. When we ask for help, it doesn't really matter what form our 'asking' takes. Our plea is heard because we asked. On the verge of non-specific panic, I was rescued from dreamland. 

Isn't it similar in waking life? Whenever we avoid panic, or anxiety, or pain, it festers. As soon as we face it and begin to pay serious attention (however this might manifest), the pattern begins to shift. The tightly wound fist in our chest begins to loosen and the fingers begin to relax and open. This allows the issue, itself, to breathe, and our feelings can gradually expand into the space that is created. Whether 'the issue' is visible or invisible, infusing space into any dilemma allows perspective to expand. It 'clears' the air.

The panic button offers us a way to officially acknowledge--and validate--the seriousness of our circumstance, or impulse. Contraction can only have power over us if there is no way for the tightly held energy to relax and release. It does not matter whether the perception of danger is real or not. The importance lies in our response. 

Opening to what's terrifying us, in the first place, is the starting point. Peeking behind the veil of our panic is the only way to do this. Our sense of curiosity may be utterly stifled by our terror. This can make it seem that we are powerless with no way out. When we feel helpless to take steps on our own, then naturally we look outward for assistance. 

A hand held out to take hold of ours, in return, can offer permission to explore even the most paralyzing fear imaginable. That's why Panic Buttons exist. They simply take a more human form, when we turn to each other--being there to care, to reach out, and to connect.

Perhaps its not about how the button looks, OR 'if the button works'. Maybe the very idea of a panic button, is simply a way to give ourselves permission to NEED something. Or someone. And to admit this is to press the invisible button with the force of our yearning...

Such permission is always just a push of the 'button' away!

Sunday, October 13, 2013


"Obsession by potentiality."

BUSTED! I've been almost drunk on 'potential', on the verge of losing myself in fantasies of 'what might be' for a month now. My island getaway on Whidbey Island is just a week away and I don't want to ruin it by riding the runaway horse of Imagination. Today I saw an astrology column that said this:
There's such a strong sense of potential in the air, 
it's a bit difficult to stay on track 
with current reality. 
The mind and heart continue 
to want to live in the possibilities that lie ahead." 

Pam Youngans

But how can you not be excited? Or not have images flash through your mind? I have dreamed of going here for years. My aunt is in an Extended Living center in Seattle. I'm going to visit her, while having this getaway as my homebase. Why not? Sometimes I wonder if the 'real vacation' is this time I've spent longing and imagining it all. I have done so many things and gone to so many places. I have inhabited my downstairs unit and it wasn't even raining in my fantasies (although it probably will be during the time of my actual visit!!!).

We've all had the anti-climatic experience of building something up so much that it's a huge let down when the real thing arrives.

But I'm good with whatever it might be. This whole adventure (going off by myself, to 'places unknown' and discovering whatever I discover) IS THE TRIP. So it's not about what I find when I arrive--as if THAT might bestow happiness. It's marveling at the moment-by-moment wonder AS Deep Presence saturates every instant of the journey itself. 

By being each moment (something I'm learning to do in life anyway) there's no horizon ahead and no wake behind. It's all just 'this wave cresting'. And what an amazing moment each one of them IS, from such a vantage point!

I am keenly aware that this 'problem' doesn't actually exist, anyway, since there can be no 'future that might be ruined, nor any 'dreams come true' that might unfold. There is only and always this one single, infinite and irreplaceable moment. And IT carries no charge whatsoever--to the extent that we fully experience it (fully ARE it). 

Fully showing up for this 'one & only' moment means being so totally IN and OF it--that any evaluation or measurement, any proclamation of worth, can only occur before/after the actual instant. Because the actual instant is uniquely, simply, & exclusively WHATEVER IT IS. 

Being such Deep Presence, eclipses the tendency to 'lose our self' into identification with whatever's going on. This does not imply a self-immersed stance that becomes polarized, nor distanced, in any way. It's just the opposite. We become THE FLOW itself, rather than somebody who is focused upon 'the particulars' or 'the predicament'.

Trusting this--because it's what I find to be true throughout the moments of each day--eliminates concern, anxiety, and energy spent falling into the temptation of fantasy OR reverie, whenever it offers its allure of promised reward.

Wednesday, October 2, 2013


If I don’t ‘pick up’ the scripts that say 
I need to judge something, 
or feel bad/good about it, 
problems fall away at an alarming rate!

It’s been a year since I retired
A sort of easy relaxed acceptance of my laissez-faire existence is settling over me. It doesn’t feel good or bad. It’s just how it is. It is a relief to simply admit that I am content with life as it is. YES, of course--in a perfect world--there are things I would change if the push of a button could make it so, but since it won't, I’m good with it all: AS IS. Whew--can it really be this simple!

I do not live my life by typical standards. Rarely have I done so, if ever. Even as a kid, I harbored secret fears that I might be “found out” if anyone really ever knew what my days were like, my family, my heart, my thoughts, or my dreams. But how many of us actually DO live our lives by 'typical standards? Is there really any such thing as 'typical'? 

What if 'typical' is just a scare-tactic word, created by an insecure society hoping to reign in those who dare to question the status quo, rattle the cages, or break familiar molds?

Solitary time has always been my refuge. I grew up in an atmosphere of turmoil at home, and crisp order at Catholic school. FREE OPEN SPACE was what felt REAL to me. It was the territory where I thrived. It was wide open and utterly lacking in judgment or demand—like the acre of land we bought when I was 6 years old.  

Growing up in the company of Eucalyptus trees, like a grateful weed, roaming vacant lots, my brother and I were wild and every day was an adventure. You could still see the purple mountains in the San Fernando Valley because Smog wasn't a word in our vocabulary yet. (see Eucalyptus Days for a peek into that world!) After 40 years in the work force (and I count 40 hours a week at school as part of 'work force') having a couple decades to do whatever one likes--seems fair. I am relishing retiement! 

Next month I'm flying to the San Juan Islands to fulfill a life-long fantasy of escaping to a  place of solitude and freedom. I can do whatever I want with the 'money & time' that I've saved up. WOW. There are no more standards to cage me in. I'm home again...Look our Werld: Here I come!!!!

Monday, September 2, 2013

FRIENDSHIP & ROMANCE: Flirting with Quicksand

The closer we get to our true nature,
~ the pure essence of Being, the source of the current ~
The FULLNESS of what we are, 
potential becomes actual.  
As unfoldment occurs
the current glows
 more luminous, 
more radiant, 
more alive. 

A.H. Alamaas  **

What would we do without each other?? Nothing rivals the thrill of finding a new friend and tumbling into the glow of getting to know one another! Typically, we think of friendship, as being platonic. Sometimes 'friendship love' turns into 'romantic love'. Sometimes romance becomes platonic. Sometimes they are one and the same.


Most friendships are 'safe' because such lines are clear and obvious. But we never know if there's a sinkhole, unless the ground beneath us suddenly turns to quicksand.

Being friends, means being free. No need to monitor, nor hide, any facet of self-expression. Making a new friend means stepping out into the open ‘as you are’, feeling safe and experiencing 'home', no matter what. Each person is allowed to be exactly himself/herself. There is wonderment at each new revelation. Delight springs from a sense of merging with the very current of unfoldment, itself. 

Friends bypass labels and attributes. Age, gender, lifestyle, relationship status, and different world views, become irrelevant. The whole idea of 'friend' implies a bond, way more vast—and all inclusive—than romance. It means trust, and an openness that won't backfire on either one of you. Friends don’t hold each other to the scrutiny of boundaries like lovers often tend to do.


True Friendship means that nothing can stand in the way. An open ticket to be exactly as you are, is part of the deal. Romance can impact friendship precisely because it obliterates the open ticket. No matter how 'evolved' one might be: the possibility exists, that a beautiful friendship can be hijacked by romantic energy. If so, how will good friends weather the prospect of failed (or successful!) romance? 

What sort of mixed signals might arise when heart-energy no longer aligns with the current 'operative plan'? When something shifts somehow, do we resist or explore this? Do we take it personally? Do we want to understand? Are we willing to dance with shifting energies? What if it hurts or scares us? It's all just LOVE anyway.

The essence of that first blush!

Being vulnerable with our new friend--is all about THE MYSTERY !  

The novelty of someone 'brand new' tantalizes, like an irresistible gift-wrapped package. The art of seeking, revealing, and reciprocating, is not limited to humans. This ancient adventure is at the heart of LIFE itself! It is impossible to distinguish Lifeforce from the 10,000 things it creates!


Have you ever gotten to know a dog? They tend to be utterly unguarded and they carry their part of the conversation with overwhelming eagerness. Dogs aren't called "man's best friend" for nothing! I think if we use our dog-friendship's as the template, we'll do just fine. They NEVER stop being there for you. And they never feel threatened by any lack of attention on your part. 

Rather than view others as 'competition', (or mope and feel neglected) dogs become excited. They only ask to be right in the middle of the interaction along with everyone else! Their innocence may well contain the key to any potential dilemma. 

Dogs only have one agenda: connection. Whether or not it happens, where it might go, and what sort of outcome it has--are not even considered. This impulse to connect is available to one and all. Dogs grasp the fact that we exist for the sheer exhilaration of merging energy fields. Even a split-second will do. There are no strings and there is always and only this one sacred moment.


The more we know about someone, the less curiosity we have. As we accumulate 'information' it becomes far too easy to put each other in a box, thinking that if I know stuff about you, then I know you! (Not to minimize the stuff!  Such tidbits highlight the THRILL of discovery, itself!) But the real question is, How well do we ever really 'know each other'? 

It is easy to project our own images, dreams and fears onto one another--but friendship sees through all of that, more deeply than romance does. Friends allow 'the stuff' to be there. Trust endures almost any hurdle. The 'best' & the 'worse' are understood to be momentary flare ups within a vast continuum of genuine appreciation. Depth of understanding embraces idiidiosyncrasy, and dissolves misunderstanding.

Recently, at a social gathering, with people, whom I am still just getting to know, I responded to many of their questions quite frankly (as I generally tend to do with people) but afterwards I wondered if that was such a good thing. Perhaps this makes it to easy for others to think they know what box I belong in. And there is so much more they don’t know. 


The 'information stuff' we share, between each other (that makes us different, or alike) can give false impressions about connection.

There is equal risk, however, in holding out or standing back. If we wait too long, or fail to reach out in some personal way--it might make us seem aloof, superior, or utterly lacking any interest. Being unapproachable is just as dangerous as coming on too strong.  

Romance is not just for lovers. Any friendship 'worth its salt' is peppered with romance throughout the duration! I have always erred on the side of too much love. Being 'an indiscriminate lover of what is,'*** I tend to fall in love with trees, dogs, bridges, sunsets, and people, all the time. I highly recommend this!

From that 'first blush' of meeting, until the final farewell at the end of a long happy life of staying in touch and making a huge difference--friendship offers us infinite opportunity to spice up life. To play. To court. To applaud. To surprise. And yes, to grieve... 

** Quote by AH Almaas (Potential of Unfoldment) -- I took the liberty of rearranging the order of this quote for 'poetic effect'

**** Adyashanti (3 minute video: "an indiscriminate lover of what is")

Monday, July 15, 2013

What have you done with The Garden?

Whatever gets in the way 
of the connection to 
our own soul
 may need 
to go. 


The wind, one brilliant day, called
to my soul with an odor of jasmine.

“In return for this jasmine odor,
I’d like all the odor of your roses.”
“I have no roses; I have no flowers left now
in my garden… all are dead.”
“Then, I’ll take the waters of the fountains,
and the yellow leaves and the dried-up petals."
The wind left… I wept. I said to myself:
“What have you done with the garden entrusted to you?”

by Antonio Machado  (Robert Bly Translation)

Suddenly, this poem feels all too real. Standing on my porch, this morning--I heard my soul say the words out loud, at last:

  The garden, entrusted to me, is DEAD.

With deep heart-sorrow, I can no longer remain silent about what is happening. Dry, yellow weeds have replaced the lush lawn, and the verdant foliage. It was once a wonderland, inhabited by Life and Love. Now, this Entrusted Garden (of house and grounds), feels like a Wasteland. 

When we moved here 20 years ago--a hopeful young family of three--we were thrilled to find this lovely home 'For Sale' in the mountains. It would be our first home that wasn't a rental. Our son liked living on a dead-end street, with hiking trails that led up into the 'sand hills' (a very special ecosystem that once lay at the bottom of the ocean--back before some radical tectonic plate activity!). 

Now our son is a grown man; his father is planning to retire soon, and I have been retired for nearly a year now. Where did the time go? Somehow, there was never enough time 'left over' to tend to the Garden.

The yards, the infrastructure of house and decking, and the dynamic of interrelatedness itself--have all deteriorated. I've lived too long with my head in the sand and now its time to reckon with Reality.

Over the busy years of working, homeschooling our young son, then seeing him through high school and college, the fabric of Life--like any comfortable, old T-shirt, got ragged around the edges. Remaining sparks of old dreams, flickered out. Eventually, 'The Parents' had very little in common with each other. Our personal interests had diverged--but the one thing that the 3 of us have always done well together, is FAMILY!

The luster of dreams can so easily be swallowed up by tedious tasks, and inevitable misunderstandings. Struggling through a 35 year marriage, my husband and I tried various approaches. Being good friends who lived separately from time to time, seemed to work best for us, however financial need, keeps conspiring to bring us back under the same roof, in this house, that we are still 'mortgaged to'.

Our son lived on his own, after studying film in college. He and his roomates networked to share jobs and contacts for work in their field, until the ecomony collapsed and the free-lance job market dried up. Finally, he ended up back home, too--a camera man for local TV news, doing a scaled down version of the film work he studied for. Each one of us has our own separate living area, within the house. This way, we manage to coexist pretty well, while sharing a common space. I often hear of others, who are doing the same sort of thing now-a-days.

 You must be willing to give up 
the smallness of your story
 for the vastness of your true essence. 
Every moment you have a choice

Debbie Ford
 ~ ~ ~

An inner fountain flows at the heart of every growing thing, but when we ignore these living waters, and fail to tap into their bounty--then Life itself, tatters at the edges.

It's easy to lose heart, when our 'outer world' dis-integrates and transforms into something different. We can choose to shift with the energy, or resist it. It's not always easy. But, I find that shifting with change, does open new options. Time and circumstance have their own ideas. I have done my share of arguing with Life; lamenting outcomes, and resisting the pain that disappointment can bring.

I notice, however, that whenever I acknowledge pain, and meet it--rather than resisting--something softens. It becomes much easier to embrace disappointment, and open up to Life's Adventure. Doing so, presents the perpetual mystery of The Great Unknown!

Machado wrote this poem about Wind and Gardens, from a state of deep grief, upon the death of his new bride at the tender age of 18, from Tuberculosis. Bly points out that Machado's poem "...starts with his personal garden (small "g"), but at the end, he's speaking to his soul about a greater Spiritual  Garden (capital "G")."

There is a sense of stability I live by, which is always seeking to follow the river's course. My world is rich with natural wonders right outside our doorstep, a broad circle of fantastic friends whose own unique worlds overlap with mine, and a dynamic community of kindred spirits, whose vibrant energy brings precious joy

Once a week I volunteer to work at a spiritual organization, which actively supports acknowledging things 'AS THEY ARE'. I notice how doing this makes a beautiful difference for those who dare to drop the mindspin, and labels, we tend to add on top of whatever simply happens. This 'volunteer day' is the highlight of my week. As I drive 'over the hill', it feels ironic to be taking the very same commute I once took to my former workplace--at a large county hospital--before my retirement. But instead of arriving at a tense, demanding, high-tech environment, I enter into a calm, sweet atmosphere--filled with awesome individuals, who are becoming dear friends. 

So, the garden nourishes me, as I nourish it. It's a cycle that reciprocates. I did finally water the front yard last nite. I'll water the back yard today. But it will only mean having green weeds, instead of straw-colored weeds! I make continual choices about where my energy will go and what activities take the highest priority. The impetus for deciding is based upon Aliveness, and Meeting what LIFE presents, without abdicating my own authority.

Bly emphasizes that quite often, ". . . confessional poetry fails to achieve psychic weight (IF) it stays in the personal garden. Psychic weight does not require catastrophe. But it needs to point less to our ego and more to a cosmic sense of our true Self." 

What have you done with the garden entrusted to you?

 “It always seems impossible until it’s done."
~ Nelson Mandela ~ 

Wednesday, July 10, 2013

Blue Shoes for the Wedding !!

Each Present was carefully wrapped
& tucked into the splashy bag
'Fresh Produce'
(love those lively colors!)
The wedding is still a few days away. My dear friend's son, & his girlfriend, will be married at a place called The Family Farm, in the hills of Woodside. It was such fun picking out their presents at the ZEN store in Capitola, then wrapping them in pinks & blues (with old-fashion crinkly paper ribbon that you curl with scissors). Layed out beside my clothes on the bed, are the perfect pair of matching shoes! I found them at "Bunny's" on Pacific Avenue!!

. . . time to tuck away . . . 
. . . this happy array . . . 
 . . . of fanfare . . . 
. . . go to bed . . . 
 . . . fall asleep at last . . . 
. . . dreaming . . .
. . . of lovely promise . . . 

What is it about weddings? Why do they offer such delight and hope? How do they tug at our heartstrings so strongly? Even if we have a hard time conjuring up images of truly happy couples (married or not), there is a sacred twinge that one feels at a wedding ceremony. Is it the refusal of our human spirit to give up dreaming? To hold onto hope and delight? To keep wanting to believe in something beautiful? No matter what . . .

I set out to find a 'classy', elegant yet simple, 'nice & normal', wedding present (preferably one single vase--or something like that). I found an elegant silver-shimmery picture frame but it wasn't enough. Then, a candle in a frosty jar with a thick glass lid, and a wax-like-seal on top (but made of silver). And three really important toys: a refrigerator magnet with something sappy for newly weds, a bottle of bubbles with the plastic bubble blower inside, and a jigsaw puzzle. 

But this puzzle is different. Instead of painted cardboard, it's made from one of those plastic pictures kids love to look at: that substance, which gives the impression of action or movement when you angle it, slightly from side to side in your hand: material that gives a sort of 'view-finder effect' changing the picture you see, as the angle shifts. What ARE those things called???

Weddings are all about angles: setting the stage for 'dreams come true'. Photographs. The right pose, stance, flowers, gown, hairstyle, vows, music, food, and feeling. About the guests (the audience/witnessing) and pumping energy into the happy couple. Dancing, celebrating. A ceremony to look back upon and show your friends and maybe your kids, someday.

Maybe that last irresistible 'gag' puzzle-gift, was actually the most significant of all. It is so hard for me to just do the 'proper simple thing'. Toys are extremely important. They keep us young. I can see the two of them at a table while it's raining, putting the jigsaw pieces in place TOGETHER 40 years from now. They just didn't have any vases that were good enough.

But its really all about the shoes!!! Blue shoes to match my new blue skirt. Did you notice them?

Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Beyond the bounds of what we 'KNOW'

(10000 Awake)

As long as I can remember, I've felt drawn to 'get to the bottom of things'. To reach beyond initial impressions. There have been moments when 'beyond' took me all the way through (and into) the boundless territory, of The Unknown.

On such occasions--much like 'Alice in Wonderland'--I've discovered a surprising 'place', with no words and no dimension. The following video snippet, is me trying to put words to it anyway! 

~ ~ ~

 Maurissa Afanador has produced a series of video-interviews where folks describe their own transformative experience of profound insight, or gradual realization. She captures the unique flavor of each individual encounter--as it embraces a common thread--something I imagine you might also recognize in yourself.
10000 Awake is a lovely site where these stories are available to enjoy. You may have something to add--or simply be curious to view some of these homologous, yet uniquely personal, experiences. 

Saturday, June 1, 2013

Invitation to BE

"...Making ourselves visible 
arranges for a different kind 
of disappearance 
 into the work, the task, the audience, 
the life that opens up, where the fearful one 
who first dreamt 
is burned away by anticipation 
and a living contact with a future 
we might want to call our own…
making ourselves visible enables us 
firstly to be found 
and then invited in, 
by the world we desire..."   
 David Whyte 
Adapted from
Crossing the Unknown Sea:
Work as a Pilgrimage of Identity.
Riverhead © David Whyte