Silence is Sacred

When you are walking down a city street and fall on your left buttock after slipping down a blue ramp and get up as quickly as possible while looking for your ride.

When you realize you missed a meeting due to your own error after making a second trip through winding roads to La Paz.

When you are happy for the success of a first meeting rescheduled from earlier in the week after showing up with the right paperwork at the inicial meeting and the system finds there are two of you in their system. You must eliminate one in order to move on. Original citizenship documents are required to prove, you are you.

When you walk down the Malecon and marvel at the tents, stands, and festivities being prepared for Mardi Gras.

When you are happy to be there even if the water is blocked because you slept well the night before. 

Silence is sacred in the midst of all the sounds that are inherent with life happening.

In conversation with a dear friend once, he asked: Is there such thing as silence?

In the mountains, alone, hiking, I remember silence being the draw. Time to notice the only sounds I heard were my own foot steps. What other sounds did I hear? If all I can hear are my own foot steps, is that silence? Silence between the steps. Silence between the sounds.

In 2012, I started hiking in earnest under the relentless August sun. I had reached a point of no place to turn and nothing to do but walk and be with as much silence as I could organize my life around.

In silence, I learned to listen. 

I was hiking four to six days a week for hours at a time. As my legs got stronger, my clothes felt looser and my mind felt clearer. My heart soared.

In silence, I learned to befriend my own company - this time as a choice - not as a matter of life and death. I enjoy hanging out with myself. 

In a silent retreat one year later, I was told: This is not a vacation.

One week with all our activities and sittings carried out in silence interspersed with Dharma talks. I remember listening with discernment to two published authors and clearly thinking, I am the only author of my inner life. No one outside can tell me what is inside this mind, heart and soul.

I was asked before we settled into silence: Have you done this before? I replied that I had, I was still and silent for hours while on bed rest with Paloma during the last two months of my pregnancy. I had experienced stillness and silence and knew I could be still. 

During the retreat, I experienced deep joy and didn't know what to do with the energy except dive off my stand up paddle board into cold February water during our lunch breaks. Leaps of joy. And diving in. On my drive home and for days afterword, tears streamed down my face and I wondered if this was a normal part of reentry. I was happy to be home. And yet I felt a longing for streaming quiet.

This week, between drives to La Paz, my daughter's every changing busy schedule and my own full schedule, I felt the onset of temporary exhaustion settling in. A headache came and went. And wondered, how much time do I spend in silence during this phase in my life? Knowing that time in solitude and silence is where I replenish my energy sources, I create time every day to recharge. 

I sit in silence next to Javier every morning with our coffee. Until one of us shares. And silence is broken. I sit quietly in meditation. For my personal yoga practice, I silence my phone. Music for practice is rare. I savor silence. When Javier and I hike together, often we walk in silence. Until one of us shares. And the silence is broken. Until we are quiet again together. There is silence throughout the day. And starry night.

The last time I hiked alone was on our ranch. A quiet place with a roof, cobb walls, smooth counters, bright splashes of tile because I was tired of seeing all those painted squares in boxes and what better way to store them than adorned with patchwork walls. Trails and mountains and sky surround plus views of the sea and horizon beyond.

I listen for silence between the sounds of cars and trucks on the road down below. Leaves rustling in trees on a light windy afternoon. Dogs barking next door. The feeling of Ollie sitting on my legs and the sight of her looking over the screen at me, as if to say: What is that thing on your lap and wouldn't you rather hold me? The sounds of my finger tips on the Spanish keyboard. No spell check and the hope my spelling is correct. An ATV puttering by. Plants that need watering make their own sound as all living organisms do. 

And the memory of hiking through trees, over rocks, up, down and around so many trails in the desert. With the knowing of that silence living deep within me. Whenever I need that silence, all I have to do is pause and listen. It is always there. On city streets, in yoga studios, offices, planes, on my back porch, with me wherever I go. In the words of Rumi, "The quieter you become, the more you are able to hear."

In breathing, we connect. 

Words begin to fall away. 

First the spoken words as we close our eyes and focus within. 

Then, slowly and eventually, the internal words 

begin to find space between one another. 

And that is where we meet. 

In the space between the words, 

the shared rhythm of the breath, 

beating of the heart. 

A body and mind at rest. 

A soul at peace. 

(2016)

A Balancing Act

Every week, I choose a theme to think about in my own life, a practice to support this theme for myself and others and let these questions percolate, integrate, assimilate and deepen in my own being.

Oaxaca 2009

The balancing act of living daily is an art form. A moving, breathing, anything but static way of soulful existence. 

Sometimes balance looks like green smoothies packed with fresh orange juice, beets, celery, strawberries, bananas and whatever else I can pack into the blender. Other times is looks like Oreo cookies and coffee. 

I get up every day and share that first cup with Javier. Our quiet and precious alone time together. Then I sit on my cushion in front of an altar and reminders of qualities important to embody as part of my life's message. Sarasvati for creativity. Laskshmi for beauty. Both from New Orleans during last year's Bhaktimmersion. Ganesha from Joshua Tree, the remover of obstacles. The Virgen of Guadalupe and amethyst angel to remind me of feeling protected and guided. A tiny yogi sitting on a square piece of Connemara stone from Ireland with its round center. A crystal from my Reiki teacher. A candle to remind of me of the perpetual light within to guide me along my daily adventures. Buddha was too big for the alter so there are several around the house and yard as a reminder of the Boddhisattva. A reminder of my commitments for life.

Self care before everyone else care is a balancing act. Sometimes I need a hike in the mountains, restorative yoga, a book and cup of tea. To just sit on my porch, listen and be. Other times I need to wear my pj's all day and marry Netflix. Til death do us part. I'm never getting up again. And then I do. 

It can be easy for me to loose sight of all the energy going out to others. Family, pets, work, home, anywhere or everywhere. I love my life and enjoy living. 

Sometimes, I get Grinchy and have grumpy moments of: How many times are we going to celebrate one holiday!? One celebration per holiday is enough, right? Isn't celebrating the fact that we are alive and breathing and healthy celebration enough? I think so. Schools and some cultural traditions beg to differ. As my grandpa Jimmy, born in Texas, lived and loved Baja used to say, "Sweetie, if you can't beat 'em, join 'em."

When I was designing and building, I learned to balance the nature of my work and how to restore. Not to perfection. I still overdid it from time to time. Which was an improvement and evolution from perpetually overdoing. A kind of balance experienced in itself.

In a time and culture where we are encouraged to contantly go bigger, grow bigger, do more, and as I mature, I lean more into: slow down, integrate, deepen and evolve naturally. Nothing stays the same. Even if we try to make it stay. Staying, even if momentarily, is another way of being with the natural flow of life. The rise and fall of the breath. The rustle of the wind in the trees. A wind chime. Bird songs. Sleeping dogs. Creative projects naturally grow, expand, deepen, connect and integrate this ongoing existence on earth.

As I focus on slowing down, life keeps revving, ideas ignite enjoyable and inspiring ways to take my work out into the world. This chapter comes with new learnings on how to balance.

How to balance giving and receiving?

How to be the giver and receiver at once to restore my own energy, health, maintain vitality so I can keep on participating in this life I love to live?

When to reach out and let myself completely be on the receiving end.

The recognition that every day, in some way, I am receiving and giving. Take notice of the subtleties. Be grateful for opportunities. For the spaciousness that is here and available in between each breath. In listening. And being.

Sometimes participation is out there, other times in here. Often it is dance between the two. A balancing act. There are many ways to participate.

At the heart of the matter, there are more questions:

Am I giving enough?

Am I giving back for all I have received?

The recognition that every day, the first words I hear are, "Ya esta el cafe." And the love I feel for that act. Someone I love made me coffee.

I hope that the actions of my own life mirror the kindess, love and generosity I have been blessed to receive.

Yogi Bhajan wrote, 

"If you want to learn something, read about it. 

If you want to understand something, write about it. 

If you want to master something, teach it."

The great rejuvenator.

This balancing act is a way of life. An art form.
Each version of balance is as unique and beautiful as the artist themself.

The Art of Listening Deeply

Last weekend I booked plane tickets to New Orleans. Palo and I participated in Bhaktimmersion last spring. I attended the year of my fortieth birthday knowing I would return someday with my musical child. There are many styles of yoga. Bhakti is yoga of the heart. Devotion. Poetry, art, singing, music, chanting. One of my favorite styles of yoga. Their yoga for sure. 

Architecture is one of this life's songs. A rhythm I can feel, create and see. A silent song stirred by the imagination to shelter a body, nurture the soul. Painting has served to express at various intervals in my life. Writing is the glue binding all experiences into one ongoing story. Until I began teaching yoga, my art was silent. I was comfortable in that space of creativity and expression. 

Creating audible sound through chanting and attempting to play the harmonion felt jarring at first. Too much sound in a room coming from where I sat. A shock to the senses. 

Where do we learn to be quiet and keep our thoughts to ourselves? 

When is silence the best course of action? 

When is speaking up a necessity?

What if what you have to say has already been said?

Say it anyway. In your own unique way.

Teaching yoga has taught me how to speak and share with a group of people. One reason Bhaktimmersion calls me back: practice in honing my voice. Practice in clearing space so I can say what I need say. Moment to moment, day by day. Clearly and with as much compassion as possible. Inclusion. Hopefully with connection and duration.

Last summer I was sitting on the back porch with my morning coffee, listening to the sounds around me when I wrote this poem:

I know I am here

When I can feel the rise and fall of life flowing through me,
When I can hear my own breathing
In concert with the sounds around me
Birds, the multitude
Of songs, wings flapping
A cow in the distance
The soft rustle of leaves
In the trees
Sheltering doves
Cooing
Cows mooing
When I can see
Light sparkling
Through branches
Onto stone and brick,
A chosen place for
The cat to lay on
His side and curl one paw
As he too listens to
The sound of birds
Singing, flapping wings
A dog barking in the distance
Purple flowers moving,
Bobbing in the breeze
Clouds in light gray
Hovering over bright
Morning sunlight peeking
Through palm fronds
Reminding me
The warmth of day
Motivated me to get out
Of bed to enjoy this
Cool window and when
The sun shines down
It will be time
To move
Knowing, appreciating
This time
Gifted for the dust
Of my mind to settle
Waking with vivid dreams
And mundane things
Concerns and wonderings
The murk, the inner
Gray clouds
And light to shine
On sparkling gems
Found
Along sandy pathways
Of a beloved mind lived with
Breathed with
Everywhere I go
Knowing, remembering:
I am here.

June 2, 2019

Listen to your heart. Be who you are. 

Speak and live your truth. 

Authenticity is sustainable.

Be kind to your self and others. 

Peace begets peace.

We all walk on the same earth and breathe the same air. One person’s way of life is no more or less than another’s. Just diversity. Our backgrounds may differ, belief systems, socioeconomic status, sexual orientation, gender identity, insides and outsides on the physical level as well as the mental, emotional, spiritual - all levels. We are all human and sharing this crazy adventure of being alive on the same earth, near and far. Open mind. Open heart. Equality. Unity. 

Everything I write to you is really the writing to do for myself. Rumi said it well, "I was you and never knew it". These questions I ask myself. These reminders I integrate within. In writing, I share a conversation within my own mind. A conversation that may offer a meeting of the minds. A meeting at the heart of our shared humanity.

Loving Kindness and Mother Earth

After traveling to Barcelona in 2007, Javier and I were sitting in our rocking chairs on the roof with  coffees and watching a beautiful Baja sunrise. That trip ignited a spark and led to wondering how we could pool our resources and do something about the visible litter around town. We are surrounded by beauty. The bright night sky, colorful transitions from day to night and back to daylight. Clear water. Jumping mantarays. Moutain ranges. Magic of the desert.

We decided to create a grass roots organization offering education and participation with our main focus being Environmental Awareness. We organized town clean ups, hired dump trucks, got permission to work with children ages Kindergarten, Elementry School and Junior High. Talking, walking, working with and listening to the kids at school, one thing became very clear: It all starts at home, under each individual roof. In the words of Mother Theresa, "If you want to change the world, go home and love your family."

It all starts at home. Our familial environment plays an imperative part in our outlook on life, how we treat ourselves, each other and the planet. 

Deeper still, how we live within our only home on earth, our bodies, affects how we see and treat the earth. When I see everything around me as an extension and reflection of my own heart, body, mind and soul, then I can see the connection between how I live my day to day and how that affects the ground I walk on and air I breathe, the family and pets I live with, community I am part of. When I care for my own mental and emotional health and take resonsibility for its upkeeping, then I can see the consequences of my actions.  How I do one thing is how I do everything. The benefits as well as the damage is cumulative. Everything I do adds up. When I feel good, I want to do good. 

November 14, 2013 marked the opening of Healing Winds Holistic Center, four years after opening the yoga studio. We pressed pause on town clean ups. Yes, the town was and is cleaner. And, the town's first recylcing organization was formed and sheltered by the umbrella of UVERDE for it's first years. There was progress. Kids had big ideas. But I was still seeing kids and adults throwing trash out their car windows. How do we go beyond when the basics haven't settled in. I felt like we were  moving trash from one place to another. From roadside to landfill. Talking in circles. I did feel good about litter removed from arroyos and keeping any amount from drifting int the sea. I felt like we weren't making the long term change I longed to see. I wanted to work at a deeper level. At home. 

Through the practice of yoga and care of healing arts, I have changed my lifestyle, one that slowly continues to evolve so I may feel a sustainable best, keeping a perpetual creative fire lit beneath the heart, aiming to maintain clarity of mind, strength and flexibility in this body. My home on earth. The best that I humanly can. One day at a time. By slowing down, I have the time to look inside my refrigerator and notice what there is to eat, prepare healthy meals. Food rarely goes to waste because I am not working so many hours that I can't keep up with the basics, the first reason to work: to sustain a life, feed a family, put a roof over our heads. 

2008-09

Where creative ideas come from is often a mystery combined with a series of events. The beauty of Antoni Gaudi's architecture in Barcelona and his inspiratation drawn from the wisdom of nature clearly inspired both creative endevors above: UVERDE, A.C. and Healing Winds. 

This body is my first skin, the second skin being the dwelling I live and sleep in, the place I work with myself and others. The home we all have in common is our shared humanity and Mother Earth. We all have a heart, body, mind and soul. Regardless of our beliefs, conditioning, cultural or socioeconomic backgrounds, lifestyles, we are all connected to each other, the ground we walk on, air we breathe. Sky above, earth below. The more we recogize this interconnection, the more motivated we may be to care for own health and wellbeing. Kindness begets kindness. Peace begets peace. When I care for my own health, I am caring for the wellbeing of my family so I can offer the support and presence I wish to offer them, the creative projects I undertake, my part in a growing community and care for Mother Earth.

 "You must be the change you wish to see in the world." Gandhi
UVERDE, A.C. 2008 at the local Elementry School

In the practice of Loving Kindness, Metta or Maitri, there is a three part aspiration, borrowed from Pema Chodron's book: The Places That Scare You. This practice is a reminder of starting at home and then extending acts of generosity into the world. Loving Kindness is good for the heart and can inspire happiness.

May I enjoy happiness and the root of happiness.

May you enjoy happiness and the root of happiness.

May all beings enjoy happiness and the root of happiness.

Perpetual Creative Fire

Fire is always moving and changing. Fire is a threshold element offering heat to burn off old patterns that hold us back creating space for new beginnings, ways of thinking, wording, actions, habits and values  to serve and support our daily unfolding and interconnected lives. We move through thresholds every day, in between and into the darkness of every night. Sunrise is a reminder of movement, thresholds, opportunities. We can always begin again. 

Some thresholds are thicker than others. The threshold in my work life, a transition from architecture to wellness was built within eight intensely walked years, one foot as I designed and built spaces and the other foot in wellness. Along this path, I learned new ways of creating space. In the words of Frank Lloyd Wright, "Space is the breath of art." Daily living included moving between the poles and integrating their sameness within and without. Mentally and emotionally, recognizing the similarities  of creating space to live our lives, whether within a dwelling - indoor or out of doors - or this physical container that has faithfully moved with me around the world and provided a home for my beating heart and eyes to take it all in.

As our community continues to grow, I find it imperative to remember that we live in a developing country and growing community. While I cannot control what is happening around me, I can notice how those changes affect me and inquire within. I can change my own thinking, wording, habits. When I was pregnant with Paloma and on bed rest for the final two months of her gestation - and she was still a month premature! - several homes were being built in our neighborhood. The beeping of unloading dumptrucks and sound of vehicles driving by our corner lot started in the morning and continued through the day. Add medication causing tachycardia and my heartbeating like a hummingbird flapping its tiny wings. Learning to remain calm in the middle of all I could not control, a restless baby ready to move into the world too soon for her own wellbeing, plus the construction around me. I realized I had a choice, let the stress of it all possibly cause premature birth or learn to breathe and accept all that was, knowing it would pass, as all things do. That time also was a balance of precious calm looking out my window, admiring flowers, rain falling from the sky, the comings and goings of Dylan and Javier. That experience was my introduction to being still and letting go. A crash course in the art of being, meditating, all several years before I stepped foot in a yoga class or listened to a Dharma talk. Life is the greatest teacher.

I believe each one of us is an artist of our days. Creators in our own ways. I believe that the continuation of learning equals improved health of mind, body and spirit and everything learned informs another realm within the individual heart, body, mind and soul. Integration is a path to wholeness, sending our attention and love into every knook and cranny of our own being.

Like others, I mastered the art of burning the candle at both ends. An intense longing to create, maintain employment for myself and team, earn, learn and grow have often driven me over the edge,  resulting in adrenal fatigue, frustration and extreme exhaustion. I learned that patience, deep rest, healing arts and familial support were imperative to recovering my health and restoring my energy. In repeatedly overcommitting and recovering, I realized this way of being wasn't sustainable. I was burning the candle at both ends, which ultimately results in the fire burning out.

A few years after that bed rest time with Paloma growing in my belly, I found a practice that slowly offered me an opportunity to focus within. Tools to slow down my breathing. Calm my mind and listen to my hearth. Strengthen my body. Create space for health and sustainable wellbeing. Before my thirty seventh birthday, Javier asked me what I wanted as a gift. I replied: I want the time and space to care for own health and wellbeing. I was always last on my own list. Constantly recovering from exhaustion in the midst of gratitude and amazment that I could experience a beautiful family, home, creative work and see these buildings manifested side by side, not only an amazing team, but wonderful clients who over the years, became our friends.

On April 14th of 2012, I made a promise, one that transformed a way of experiencing life on every level. In the beginning, those changes where internal. Over time, that promise manifested externally, part of a driving force, changing careers in the middle of my life. In the words of Paolo Coelho, "And, when you want something, all the universe conspires in helping you achieve it." My greatest longings in this world, whether it has been to create a home and family, a career, or other, I feel the universe has conspired. Part of that conspiring has been a series of obstacles - occurances unimagined - obstacles that ranged from unconfortable, humbling to deeply painful or costly. An openness to experience, feel and focus within has led to the strength within my own being to transmute discomfort or pain into learning, understanding, empathy, compassion and wisdom that offers connection with self and others. Deep healing. That universal conspiring has also brought rewards, gifts and divine blessings, also unimagined. For all of them, I am grateful because I am here and who I am because of everywhere I have been, within and without.

Coffee with a before dawn fire. In all my years living here, this is a first. Grateful for the warmth of hearth. This home, family, to live in this special place on earth. To do the work I get to. Enjoy the friendships with kindred souls. My husband. To remember the temporary nature of life that is. We are all just passing through. Sometimes I wonder if there is a part of me that would stop time if I could. The growing teenager and grown young man in this dwelling remind me daily with their presence: time does not stand still. Enjoy and appreciate every moment. Because this precious moment is exactly what we have.

Pause, be still

focus within

and listen.

An impulse

a quickening

your hearts desire

a need to

see an imagining

a longing 

to experience

your creative fire.

Revolved Half Moon Pose Parivrtta Ardha Chandrasana. 

Rotations of the spine, pausing and stillness offer time for digestion of food, thoughts, emotions, experience and creative ideas. Moving in, the belly is compressed, breathing is available expanding the ribcage. Moving out, the abdominal organs are bathed with fresh nutrient and oxygen carrying blood to all the lifelong companions that are the digestive organs. Revolved half moon pose shown here also improves balance and focus, strengthens and lengthens the muscles, opens the chest creating space for heart and lungs, can help alignment of the spine, result in calming the nervous system and mind.

Within the human body and in the practice of yoga, the inner fire is located above the navel and below the sternum: the solar plexus. Just above the center of creativity and fluidity and below infinite qualities of the heart. Imaginings of the mind, cultivated thoughts and feelings that have time to clarify and focus by drawing the attention inward require will, confidence, discipline, self esteem and creative fire to carry through to fruition. In the words of John O'Donohue, "All human creativity issues from the urgency of longing." 

What do you long to create in your life at this time? This question is a lifelong companion just as creativity is a lifelong expression in a multitude of manifestations. One creative experience and endevour informs another, no experience or expression stands alone. What will I you next? Keep putting the pieces together and continually step back to see the whole and evolving picture, this in itself is an exciting and insightful creative project. 

"Love is the creative fire, the inspiration that keeps the torch of progress aflame." Wilferd Peterson

Water, Fluidity, Calling, Currents and Creativity

Watercolor by Tehroma Lask: Indigo

What currents remind you of the dynamic vital life force that flows within you and makes you every cell of your being feel alive?

How creative is your relationship with movement and stillness, silence and sound, the inhale and exhale, visitation and absence, appearance and disappearance, your relationship with work and rest, friendship and family, day and night, time and the changing seasons?

What calls you to create and connect?

Are you a spectator watching the flow of life go by? Or, are you immersed in the everchanging current of life? Somewhere in between? One foot in, one foot out? Both feet in, whole heart immersed?

In my own life, I find this relationship to be a fluid dance --- at times more and less graceful than others ---  dynamic and anything but static. Moving in and out. Spaces in between. Observing, imagining, jumping in, creating, stepping out and drying off. Reflecting. Assimilating. Integrating. Sometimes ruminating. Overanylizing. Hesitancy. At time, fear moves in. Grateful when I remember: Where there is fear, may there be awareness, and faith. Where there is faith, there is love and where there is love, faith and courage: Wholeheartedness.

When I hold back, creativity is stalled. When I step in with both feet, my imaginings have a chance to come to life. I have an opportunity to see, feel, learn, connect and grow. Sometimes thrive. Other times, fall on my face. I have a scar on my upper lip from falling face first on a jagged bolder during an afternoon hike. I fell down, felt the light knocked out of me, the earth beneath my body, saw the bright blue sky, clouds moving by, found my way to standing and kept walking.  The scar is a reminder of resiliency and humanity. On an inner level, wisdom earned from many different ways of falling.

We live in a destination location, one often referred to seasonally as: High and low season. Several years ago, I began taking notice to this reference. Our winter is known as "high season". Making summer "slow season". Energetically and in cooler climates, winter is a slow season. A time for introspection. Reflection. Quiet. It became and is important to my life, living in a location year round, to create space to experience the four seasons and feelings of the year: Winter, Spring, Summer and Fall.

Throughout the seasons, I feel: Life is experienced sometimes as an observer, others as a participator and often a fluid dance between the two. There is value is moving into the water then back to shore. Move with and observe the natural ebb and flow of the tides. What if remembering: The fluid breath that carries vital life force into your body is also the vital life force that flows into this heart, body, mind and soul, the ocean, plants in your yard, my yard, our mutual barking dogs, stove that sizzles, boils and simmers in each of our kitchens, and water that flows from faucets and hoses everywhere --- on water days, of course ---  then, I recognize: I am always two feet immersed in the current that flows within us all. There is no separation between spectator and participator. 

Whatever we call the seasons, in recognizing transitions and the constant flow of changes, we are noticing the same thing: We all come and go, ebb and flow in some way. All ways of viewing, moving and being are equally valuable, when seen with the heart just as all ways of breathing are equally valuable around the globe. There may be many that are difficult to comprehend and I believe all are capable of change. Peace begets peace. 

The kidneys move water. Hip opening poses in Yin yoga stimulate the kidney meridian. Jing is stored in the kidneys. Jing is also known as "essence", soul on the ineffable level and body on the tangible level.

"It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye."
Antoine de Saint-Exupery

The Sea of Cortez, living by the water called me here like it called many to appreciate and step into it's serene beauty. Wind and waves of winter and summer further south offered me connection and reminder of oneness, a feeling I embody, a spark I feel when I see kites in the air above the deep blue and white capped rolling swells. Lines in my mind of design have called me to move them on paper and screen to develop a dwelling, a space, inside or out. Words that string themselves together, ocurrences of the mind, create a communication within that calls to be shared without. Desert trails, trees that sprout leaves after rain, bolders, moutains and the vast blue sky call me to walk amongst them with gratitude for their existence. Kindred souls met along the way, a spark to meet up and share conversation, a meal, walk, time and space. Nature, creativity, art, work, recreation, friendship, my dear family and honoring these callings, the time to appear and disappear with reverence for a deep connection I feel with the ever changing current of life that flows within me and the life force that flows within you. However that fluidity, calling, current and creativity manifests in each one of us is unique, beautiful and life expressed in a its own equally valuable way. 

Water is a wonderful reminder of fluidity, callings, currents, creativity and change, as well as, a relationship with these occurences of the mind. 

In the words of Deng Ming-Dao: 
"The essence of life shall never be known by a human being as long as that person seeks to observe life like a viewer and subject. The absolutely essential nature of life can only be comprehended by merging fully with the flow of life, so that one is utterly a part of it. "

Homecoming

Landing. Rooting. Grounding. Belonging...

Traveling away from home between Christmas and New Year's Eve was a treat, a chance to touch base with my Oregon roots, walk amongst the trees, reconnect with an old friend, bring people together, share meals, time and space. A time for Javier and I to walk and talk about our past, present and our future. Current landings in our lives, personal and work, our son graduated from college and generating income, Javier's grown son in his early thirties, a grown daughter a few years younger with her hardworking husband and their three beautiful kiddos, our daughter dreaming daily and lighting up our lives with her spark and creative energy. Mothers and mothers in law, his sisters and brother, nieces, nephews, cousins galore. My lifelong friend and family, an extension of my own. Family in Eastern, Oregon. Ancestors who traveled from Russia to Lithuania, Poland, Germany and the US. From Ireland and Scotland. Spain and France. Our current family, tribe, our sense of belonging. Time away from home to see our homelife with a fresh perspective. Remembering a conversation ten years earlier while in Oaxaca and the goal to simplify our lives. The decade it took to root those steps, to ground together and walk into the threshold of this chapter in our lives together.

In spite of our traquil intentions, twenty twenty got off to a bumpy start. Challenges in homecoming. "Stranded" in the middle, between Portland, Oregon and Los Barriles, Baja California Sur. Javier and I landed in Los Angeles, moved as quickly as we could to find a monitor, our connecting flight and saw the word canceled. Like any homeward bound and hopeful travelers, we did the next natural thing. Run to another monitor in the hopeless endevour of finding our flight anything but canceled.  New Year's Eve away from our kids for the first time ever. So close to home yet so far away. We got our vouchers for hotel and food and gloomily walked towards the exit to find a shuttle after messaging home: We'll be home tomorrow, as maturely as possible. Javier's message was the most emoji full and emotional I've ever seen: sad faces, tear faces, mad faces. Paloma wrote back: Go have a nice dinner! So, we did. When you are "stuck" at a nice hotel with delicious food and a warm bed, it is wise to remember as quickly as possible: This is a first world problem. We are safe, our kids are safe. Stay put, breathe and be where you are.

Landing in Baja the after with more delayed flights, our ride home asking us to wait one more hour while he waited for another couple to land. Our flight was late, the next one was early. Again, here we are in the middle - so close to home yet so far away - with the back of a van popped open, lemonade, chips and guacamole. I sent a picture home to the kids with the caption: Airport Beach!

Riding along the unusually green lined highway, we heard a loud noise, looked to left and watched in horror as a white truck veered off the road, into the desert and kept on going. Going and going and I prayed it would stop before tragedy when I watched it lift off and flip. Healing energy, more prayers and ambulance sirens and police trucks coming towards the accident. Please let the driver be safe, let his or her body be whole and healthy and let us land at home, safe and sound. 

"The body is a sacrament. The old, traditional definition of sacrament captures this beautifully. A sacrament is a visible sign of invisible grace. In that definition there is a fine acknowledgement of how the unseen world comes to expression in the visible world. This desire for expression lies deep at the heart of the invisible world. All our inner life and intimacy of soul longs to find an outer mirror. It longs for a form in which it can be seen, felt, and touched. The body is the mirror where the secret world of soul comes to expression. The body is a sacred threshold; and it deserves to be respected, minded, and understood in its spiritual nature."

John O'Donohue

Arriving at our gate with our bodies in tact, our minds frazzled and tired, our hearts and souls grateful to hear the sound of our dogs annouce our arrival, Dylan and Paloma come out to greet us, happy together, in one piece and not a day later. Rain fell on New Year's Day, Javier made a fire, we got pizza and opened a bottle of red wine.  

Landing. Rooting. Grounding. Belonging. The call to come home being an elemental piece of this daily adventure called life. Coming home to my own body, heart, mind and soul. Feeling my feet connect with the ground. Putting one foot in front of the other. Practicing the art of accepting myself and others, as we are; the art of simplicity, patience and compassion; the art of being and living fully. All to the best of my imperfect abilities. One breath at a time, minute to minute, day by day.

No matter where I am, whether it is in our family home, or far away from this dwelling, the call to come home to myself, to land, root, ground and belong, remember my ancestors and husband's ancestors, those came who came before and will come after, to stay put, breathe and be  where I am with gratitude for all the beauty and abundance are at the core and heart of this existence. 

“When you go out into the woods, and you look at trees, you see all these different trees. And some of them are bent, and some of them are straight, and some of them are evergreens, and some of them are whatever. And you look at the tree and you allow it. You see why it is the way it is. You sort of understand that it didn’t get enough light, and so it turned that way. And you don’t get all emotional about it. You just allow it. You appreciate the tree.

The minute you get near humans, you lose all that. And you are constantly saying ‘You are too this, or I’m too this.’ That judgment mind comes in. And so I practice turning people into trees. Which means appreciating them just the way they are.”

Ram Dass