Space

The sky is gray.  So gray.  Seagulls flock on my daily walks in the mud.  So much mud.  Rain pours down the windows.  I love it!  Something about the land, my body here, the general consciousness in interaction, is very very happy.  I believe it is a sense of the sacred.  In my journey, I feel home: not home as in where I grew up, but home in my own self, home in this temple of bones, as if I have been erased and am just a lovely pure thought coming into form again.  Exquisite.

My village is three blocks long.  In these three blocks there rests a church from the 12th century, four pubs, a playground, an art gallery, some mud and brick structures and a handful of well designed homes.  It is perfect.  So perfect.  Commerce at an ebb, bells through the day, birds at every glimpse, space to breathe.  Hu~

Quiet

I'd like to be silent for awhile, still.  I'd like to sleep for a long long time.  I'd like to cry until I have no more tears left, and just be tiny, quiet.  And so I will.  With a furnace in my heart, resting in my own new space, close to nature, shhhhh.  I am laughing when I cry these days =)  We are here.

Dream Big

"What happened to the boy who suddenly got everything he ever wanted?" asked Wonka.  "I don't know," responded Charlie. "He lived happily ever after," smiled the great candy weaver.  

It's time to light the lighthouse beams =)  This year, oh this fantabulous on our doorstep rabbit year, I DESIRE, I long for with that deep grief based longing, I pour into the universal boomerang, the seedlings of my heart!

Dancing, working through my body, Performing, Healing with my hands and feet and sweat.  Huna Raindrop into the lake of being.
International travel to simply be with kindred spirits of my heart.  Working, praying, loving, singing bridges into manifestation.  And maybe sleeping in quite a bit too.
Writing writing writing Books, stepping stones to later become articles, and first precious drafts of the eventual PhD document.  Hu.
Reading everything I desire...autobiographies, textbooks, movement books, joyous funky words, on a brand new kindle. Yo.
Children children singing children dancing children playing music from their very hearts children laughing children cuddling children resting in the peace and safety of my arms.
Teaching.  Polarity.  Ho.
Prosperity and Fellowship that fully supports my work and DESIRE and very incarnation in the world on all the Machiavellian levels so that I am free to just do it.
And deeper longings yet unspoken on the public space of a blog.  For the soul is a diamond of multiplicity and prisms...what we see is only a fraction of reflection pointing towards the inner world.

Dream with me, weave with me, the beauty that we are.  
Huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu!!

Blessings

 

The picture is blurry but I think you get the idea :)

At The Sir Francis on Weston in San Fransisco.

Such treasures!  Happy New Year. 

Epiphany

Epiphany rests at the door of Imbolc and is the traditional end to the twelve days of Christmas.  It is truly the birth...the darkest hour has passed, the sun and moon have risen together, certain light continues to build momentum towards peace, new dreams take shape.  

This epiphany my children and I will land at London Heathrow, new dreams in hands and hearts.  It has been joyous, desperate, awful, terrific, intense, filled with song, and heart wrenching.  I never lost hope, that wonderful human quality which so defines our holistic condition.  May this continue.  May the love and friendship which has so bountifully supported that hope continue to thrive.  May prosperity bless all whom this circle touches.  Ho.

Though my body will be flying through the air in two days time, my feet are firmly emblazoned with mud and vines and thorny scratches.  It feels good, being grounded, as I take off!  Hu. 

~Much Love~

Gateway

Tonight we walk through the gateway of the East.  A full lunar eclipse graces evening skies with a coppery red moon.  Frosty winter breath blows silence across the land. Many of us lay in snow, swim in rain, allow wind to caress our cheeks; we feel the first impulse of sweet spring sap in the marrow of cold.  Holiday time, family tensions, family clearings, new birth, new structure.  Structure which will support seedlings in rooftop gardens and songbird melodies on the breeze.  The new earth may be but an impulse deep within lava flows, but she is here!  Oh she is here!!!  Welcome. xxxxxxxx

Santiago

Sometime ago I read The Pilgrim by Paulo Cohelo.  In this adventure the protagonist walks a mountain path which is an ancient pilgrimage to the town of Santiago in northern Spain.  During the course of his journey he faces his fears in the form of a vicious dog, he buries himself alive under a tree at night, he learns to accept help from the most unlikely of angels.  A beautiful weaving of an inner journey, it parallels the journey I said YES to when I chose the path of the whirling dervish.  I said yes. And I pass through the fire.

The fire burns all.  It is a consuming love which hurts as much as it portions out ecstasies.  I have come to notice, this past eleven months, that my supreme ecstasies often precede a harsh blow.... we are given these to fortify us for the next high pass.

When I lived in the Sierra Nevada Mountains for a summer, 16 years ago, I hiked 27 miles in one day.  I was several months pregnant, and I took nothing but water with me.  I loved to do this back then!  Foraging berries, resting on rocks in the sun, an occasional swim in the small icy lakes, it was bliss.  And hard work.

This journey I am on, it is testing me.  Living with family is not easy.  Every pattern that wove my childhood coping skills is on display for me to see, and unwind.  And of course, there is much resistance to that.  Everyday, we walk the firewalk.  With patience, strength, and dignity, the blazes atop my mountains will simply grow in munificence.  Warming, generous fires of Love.  Big Love.  Real Love. 


Hu.