Gods Know Where

Here I am on top of a mountain, in the wilds of Southern Humboldt (and if you think "wilds" is an exaggeration, you have not been to Southern Humboldt). Okay- it’s a ridge, not a mountain, but for the sake of effect- because it sure feels like a mountain, I'm just gonna call it one.

It’s fantastic to be in the same place for more than....oh, 4 hours. 6 whole weeks of parkedness. I'm already feeling a little twitchy!

Nah- not really. Actually, part of me wishes this were my place. I'm envious and inspired and also pretty sad at times. That sounds weird until I tell you that I used to live on a mountain not far from here. I can see it across the river valley in fact. I did not leave it on good terms, hence the sad. But let’s not skip the middle parts....

This here homestead I'm sitting on is exactly the dream I had with my (ex)husband at one time. Yes, someone actually married me and got me to stay in one place and have sex with only them for 10 years or so. It’s hard to believe from where you’re sitting, but I was not always this freewheeling, party animal, nomadic, confirmed bachelor you see sitting before you today....

I lived on 10 acres in the forest, without phone, electicity, indoor plumbing and visible neighbors. Until then, I’d never lived anywhere longer than 2 years (I mean, in the same house; I'd live in the same city for decades at a time) and I’d never owned my own place. I’d never been married like that and I'd sure as hell never had a joint checking account.

It was another lifetime. Leave it to Beaver-meets-Grizzly Adams.

Looking Over at My Old Stomping Grounds

I was content- I was in love, I loved my business and was making decent money, the sex was good, he was my best friend, I finally could have dogs and I loved the quirky little community we’d landed in.

Then I got sick with Lyme and slowly but surely, everything fell apart. It was the most difficult time of my life as an adult. I had long known that by the time I was 40, a lot of things in my life would be in “order”. And I was right. I just didn't realize they would only be in “order” for a few years.

After health went, career went, performing career went, spouse wanted to not be married anymore, bankruptcy was filed, I finally had to leave my land and I had to find a new home for my dogs- no one, but NO ONE would rent to me with dogs (in many ways that was the most painful part). I was in hell of grief and betrayal combined with intense physical pain and profound exhaustion.

The community I'm now visiting in as a house sitter was not there for me. I know I didn't make it easy, but still- some of those people specialized in dealing with people on the edge, difficult, messed up, people in pain. I was one of the people that helped others in bad situations until I hit one of my own. Then suddenly no one was around. I was extremely hurt by that.

Meanwhile, I was going through some profound feelings of betrayal in general. I didn't realize it until later, but I was having a spiritual crisis. I'd gotten used to things working a certain way in my life, in my relationship with god and the circumstances I found myself in weren’t part of the deal. I was stunned. Angry. Bereft of everything, even my cool, laid back, buddy relationship with god.

I did a lot of crazy, destructive stuff in that space, including two attempted suicides and some compulsive gambling. It was not pretty.

There came a time, long after I finally left my little spot on the mountain across the way, that I realized I'd been settling and I didn't even know it. I was eventually grateful that I'd been “forced" off that mountain by circumstances seemingly beyond my control. There were things waiting for me that I could not have even imagined.

Here’s the thing- I almost always find that if I get everything on my list, just as I've laid it out, I would be selling myself short. The universe actually has much better things in store for me most of the time. But if I won't let go of my own plan, then it sometimes does me the favor of yanking the rug out from under those plans so that I'm open for the better road.

If only I could always be aware of that at the time I'm flying through the air to land painfully on my ass.

So here I am. I'm sad. And happy. I figure it’s a great opportunity to make peace with my history here. And in the meantime, I get to enjoy this brief time out on a gorgeous mountain top.

I was running laps around the driveway today (it’s a very looooooong, country driveway), looking out over the mountains. The pad this place is on is just about level with the surrounding mountain tops. I was imagining that I was running, bounding, leaping across them.

Then suddenly I was crying (and still running- the timer was on dude...). I asked god, why can't I have this??? and god said, not for you this time. I let that sink in (still crying, wiping the snot off my face with my sweatshirt sleeve, dodging puddles and rocks- running in the mountians, even on a driveway, is a whole other animal than flat land running). I was feeling the loss of that time around 40 when it seemed I had all the big questions answered, it felt like I’d arrived and life was good. Good enough anyway.

Then god said, not exactly like this anyway. You don't get to hide out up on mountaintops this lifetime. Sometimes, yeah- but I need you to be in the world.

I said- FUCK! *heavy sigh* The world is so awful right now. And people are HARD.

Yeah, god said. I know (if god had eyeballs, they would have been looking pointedly in my direction, cocked eyebrows and all).

I just smiled, sniffled and kept on runnin over mountaintops, going god knows where, but knowing, sad mad glad ‘n’ all, I'm heading in the right direction.



PS: fyi, my dogs ended up in an amazing place in the country, with a wonderful woman on some acres. That's right- they even got to stay together. I’ve had the chance to visit them, even house sit for her once and spend the whole weekend. It was really was the best outcome, other than having them with me forever of course. But that’s okay. I get to do a lot of cool traveling and non-dog-friendly stuff. I miss them all the time. This is how it is when we love people. Even dog people. In every hello is a goodbye and vice versa. I sometimes think I'm gonna escape it, but the only way to do that is never say hello. But then your life is just one giant empty goodbye with no hellos to make it worthwhile.

I'm stopping now or the postscript is gonna need it’s own blog post.

Radical Gratitude

Thankfulness brings you to the place where the Beloved lives. ~Rumi

I'm often surprised by how people are surprised by my level of gratitude. Even when the proverbial shit is hitting the fan, I'm usually experiencing and expressing some degree of gratitude. There was a time even I might have looked at me now and been surprised. But these days it's become such a part of my outlook, I'm often like: what? Big deal. Yeah I'm grateful AND I'm crushed, scared, unsure, angry, and lost. And grateful. All at once. Neato, huh?

I credit this to years of daily gratitude practice. One of my first teachers used to have me do this when I was feeling sorry for myself: open the refrigerator door, stand there and say, "Thank you for the mayonnaise. Thank you for the apples. Thank you for the eggs. Thank you for the soy sauce. Thank you for the bell pepper (but I'm allergic! Say it anyway...). Thank you for the moldy bread."  Okay, maybe not the moldy bread. But then again, maybe. It's all in how you look at it. There was a time I was so hungry, I would've eaten that fuzzy semi-sentient mass in the corner (seriously- you don't even wanna know!). But now, I am blessed with such an abundance, I can just throw it on the compost pile and resolve to not let it get moldy next time.

Later, other pain in the ass teachers had me do things like make gratitude lists, thank people for teaching me through adversity, look for gifts in every wound, yadda yadda yadda. It's sometimes tedious when I'm just getting a good run of suffering going to toss some gratitude in the soup, but it always helps loosen things up a bit, balance things out some. After all, there's rarely ALL curses or ALL blessings happening at any given time.

This may sound like a lotta silly frilly nonsense, but it works. Go ahead, keep shying away because you're too cool. You can hang onto your victimhood as long as you like. If that mojo is still workin for you, keep at it. Me, I got tired.

And I tell you this- this kind of silly frilly shit has saved my life over and over again. The simple little magics that I thought were ridiculous and silly and way, waaaaay beneath me; these things have been my salvation. I was finally so tired that I didn't have the energy to be too cool for anything. I got smarter, way more foolish and a helluva lot more alive and okayish.

Ye Olde Gratitude Onion

These are the ways of radical trust and gratitude. This is the kind of gratitude practice that takes it far beyond Polly Anna style "everything's groovy and I'm gonna plaster a smile on my face". This is gratitude that coexists quite nicely next to terror, pain and full on raging rebellion. Yes, I will have it all, thank you very much.



The path I came to embrace (when I wasn't running screaming from it) is one of radical inclusion, radical living, radical showing up for every nuance of what's actually there, as much as possible. No pretending. Sometimes a little acting for the purpose of practice, but acting is not lying to oneself or anyone else- acting is conscious, honest playing. Not the same thing as faking with the intention of fooling.

So, here I am-  In my worst moments, I'm grateful I have a heart to break, 'cause there was a time I could feel almost nothing and walked around in a daze of foggy numbed out survivitude wondering what the point was. I'm so so so grateful for a fully functioning emotional life, that I can feel a range of things on a daily basis and that I have language for those things and people who speak it with me.

I'm still living with this Lyme disease thing, in pain most days, exhausted almost every day and still grateful. I can be mad and whiny and hurting and still be grateful.In my worst moments, I'm grateful for the ability to walk, even though it hurts like hell- at least I'm off the couch and I still have this body to maneuver. We're in bodies such a short time. Even a hurting body is better than no body, which will come soon enough. Though honestly, at some of my worster times I have not thought a hurting body was better and I just wanted out, but that was while ago, and a rare and especially horrible time- a time for which I am now grateful. It taught me a lot, but mostly I'm  just grateful not to be there right now. This pain is just a nuisance, but it's also a precious, if fierce, teacher.

There's more. Oh, so much more. I don't even know what I'm expressing gratitude TO. And it doesn't matter. The benefits are mine and undeniable. That's what counts in my world. Does it work? Meaning, does it bring me closer to where I want to be in terms of my living and feeling and being? Then I don't care how silly it may seem. If it helps me, I'm in.

Here's my gratitude list for today:

I have a bed to sleep in.
I have awesome new jeans and don't have to shop again for another six months. Woot!
I am fed and warm (but not too warm).
I have coffee and the means to make me some.
I have time to write and I'm using it.

I have things to say and I'm willing to be a fool and say them. Out loud. Where people can hear me.

I have so very very much love in my life. I'm grateful to be able to explore the many facets of those loves without having to consider the affects on someone else. For this reason and others, it's really amazingly wonderful to be single.

I'm grateful for the state of homelessness at this point in my life, as it affords me profound freedom.

I'm profoundly grateful for all the people that say, "don't leave", "stay as long as you like", "come back soon", when for years all I heard was "get. the. fuck. out." and "lose my number". I was a mess. Jeeze- I love that mess I was, but it's so wonderful to be cherished and fought over. There was a time I thought the day would never come and I'm still regularly stunned to be wanted in such a way. Thank you, thank you, thank you.

and dark in the light.... 

I am grateful for a heart that breaks, a body that aches, a soul that longs, dreams that are as long and deep as the ocean, that will never ever be fully satisfied in one lifetime. Boredom? Really?!?!


I'm grateful for brown eyes that make me forget what I was going to say when I look into them. I'm grateful that this can still amaze and humble me (I wonder if you will read this and I will be yet further humbled...).

I'm glad to be so easily amused, entertained, moved and awed. I see magic everywhere.

I'm grateful for the people who made me make silly gratitude lists, as a way to remind me to keep balanced in the midst of challenge. They taught me to see the whole truth, which isn't just about what's hard (or denying that), but also what's working, what's beautiful. They taught me that it's all lifey and that's what it's all about- showing up for the real. I'm grateful for my own willingness to do silly things, to be teachable.

There's a woman in a group I admin on Facebook who's regularly posting snippets of gratitude. It's been a beautiful reminder. Thank you Cari. I'm grateful for your new found friendship and the way your living ripples out and affects mine in such a beautiful way. You are the inspiration for this post.

The Daddy Shirt 

Thank you for the peanut butter.
Thank you for my car and my sleeping bag.
Thank you for vitamins.
Thank you for puppy smell.
Thank you for the Daddy shirt that makes me smile.
Thank you for my son and his lovely love.









I'm grateful for all of you and this amazing connection we share. Thanks for being part of my universe and letting me co-create in yours. We pretty much rock.

Monster Love

Can you spot the monster in this picture?

Monster love is kicking my ass lately. I mean, really? I went from months of no- or very little- romance or physical intimacy ( I guess I could've just said SEX), then a few months ago I kind of gently put it out to the universe that I was maybe ready to start dating again. Within 4 weeks I was seeing two new people and seeing relationships from afar deepen in ways I hadn't previously imagined. It's a little like being flushed down a toilet (and no, I am NOT being dramatic!!!) to a magical, alien world where little is familiar and even that is twisted just enough as to be unsettling. And effluvia- always with the effluvia! Sheese.


One of the most up-front-and-center things about the romantic relationships I'm currently engaged in is that uncertainty is blatantly, in-my-face built in, complete with flashing neon signs and fog horns. HERE BE MONSTERS- leave your silly, pointless armor at the door, go deep or go home. It's so obvious that it can't be ignored, I can't lie to myself, even a little teensy bit. There is sweetness, comfort, love songs and fantastic sex (oy!), but there are also communication snafus, disappointments, delayed gratification and the kind of letting go, over and over and over, that comes with everyone getting to take care of themselves in the best way they can; accepting gifts from each other, but not demanding or obligated. It's a trip. How the hell did I get here? Where's my map? aaack!

I Monster: beauty and beast divine.

And somehow every time I really stop and face the Monster, I end up looking into a mirror of such clarity that it aches and shimmers, moans and sings in the bell of my being. It often seems what I'm learning to love truly, is myself, through you. *sigh* Some days you're the monster, some days you're the bug(s bunny).







On an intellectual level, I'm well aware that uncertainty is built into everything. Everything but EVERYTHING is temporary; some things are just more temporary than others. But historically (from my 20s on, more or less) I would place myself in romantic situations where I could at least pretend or hope (usually hope was the gas that fueled my engine) that this could be a permanent thing, a thing I could count on come hell or high water, someone who would finally, once and for all and forever, have my back. In other words, I could hope I'd finally found the parent I never had and always wanted. Better yet, I had found GOD incarnate and god would be mind all mine. Oh yes. MINE. Forever. I would then proceed to direct a huge amount of energy towards making that person and relationship fit the bill. You can imagine where that got me. My poor partners! Anyway...

Love it and squeeze it and name it...MINE!

I got better at picking people who fit my "bill of certainty" a little more as the years went on, also better at boxing up, tamping down, hiding pieces of myself in exchange for their faithfulness. Which, let me say here, isn't what I'm doing now, but that doesn't mean it was a mistake then. Each of those relationships taught me an plethora (sexy word alert) of things about love, communication, myself and most importantly, why it wasn't worth it to box up, tamp down, hide pieces of myself in exchange for an all too brief dream of security. It never worked. When my marriage ended 3 years ago, I hit bottom with the security addiction. I had done ALL the "right" things damnit and it ended anyway, for no clear reason. When I saw that much of my rage and betrayed feeling was about how much "I have given up for this! How well I've behaved!"- well, the subconscious deal I'd been running with the Love Gods began to be exposed and unraveled. It was a very painful wake up call.

Since then I have been on a path of consciously experiencing love with less bullshit, less rules, less measuring of the certainty factor. My desire for assurances and specific outcomes have not gone away, but it's not the boss o' me no more. Most of the time. Every relationship ends in death or dissolution. So, what was I trading away my spark, my juice, my intensity, my living-out-loudness for? Why was I avoiding my polyamorous tendencies? Why was I settling for less than the sexiest, most passionate, intimate sex ever? Why was I hiding out in 'safe' relationships (and lifestyles) that weren't even really safe at all? 

Silly Bunny

It's been an interesting 3 years. Now here I am, madly in love in three relationships that are not certain in ways that are too obvious to allow me to fool myself (and that's just the romantic loves. One of the deepest relationships in my life is a non-romantic, non-sexual one and she's moving away soon. *oooowieeeee*). There is a part of me that frequently wants to run, from all and sundry. It rants at me sometimes: are you FUCKING CRAZY!?!?! and I say, yes- that's quite likely. But the me that is the witness to all the ranting, panicking, gibbering terror, the witness that sees how really perfect this is for me, my path, and I trust, theirs too- that part keeps making the choice to lean in deeper, to open more, to see what's there when there are no guarantees, even of the obvious in the moment, "I will be there for you tomorrow" kind. The realest part of me knows that I am, in fact, going sane.

Some people ask me "Why? Why open more when you know it's likely you'll get hurt?" This reminds me of the 'keep it simple, marry a nice girl, get a good job with benefits, have a couple kids and settle down in the country' talk. I mean, if that's your shtick, then I support you. I have found, the more honest I get with myself, that it's not so much my thing. Parts of me wish it was. But my bent for adventure is an inherent source of aliveness for me. Even if I did settle down in anything that looked like the scenario above, look deeper and you would see me pushing the edges, dialoguing with the darkness, telling the hard truths over Sunday coffee in bed or after some lovely ass play or a flogging session; you would see me crying and laughing like a maniac at times, dancing nekkid under the moon and/or talking to god, who answers. Cuz that's just how I roll.

Gossamer goes metrosexual?

So I keep showing up because it feels right. When I question it myself (and I do, believe me) I get a steady, firm YES. I do it because my heart is stretching, bursting, I'm feeling more love from more directions that I ever thought possible. At times I lose track of specific sources and just feel, be, know LOVE. I suspect that herein lies the security I have always hungered for- in a universal experience of a tribal love that's SO huge, so powerful and so far beyond 'this person at this time in this way' that it will answer all the questions for, by and about love that I have ever had. It's a love so omniscient that it cannot be taken away, I cannot lose it because I AM it. And it is me. This is the tribe that always has my back- it's just bigger and less localized than I thought it was. This is the reality that cannot be undone by departure of a particular "one". This is the heart that cannot be broken, because, like the Dude, it abides.

These people are embodying it for me right now and I honor that, I'm attached to these bodies, but I know on a deeper level, that our embodiments will part someday in some fashion, but the love- the magic we're creating right now and here, the ways we're growing, singing each other bigger, breaking each other open and exposing our hurt, nasty bits, this love we make- this is ours forever and ever. That is how it's always been, no matter what story I've been telling myself about "contentedly-ever-after". This is the truth and I want it. I've known it forever, but I'm getting to experience it now through this dinged and scratched human lens. I have somehow grown the balls to actually LIVE it. I'm frequently terrified, often ecstatic, swept up in a libidinous frenzy I have never know, then peaceful and easy. Often in complete, utter awe of the process and our beauty as we do the dance together. I'm am in love. I'm beginning to know what that really means; just beginning. It's killing a lot of my old notions which makes lovely compost for what grows in the ashes.

I do it because it feels right, because it's making me a better person. I do it because these people I love are simply, stunningly amazing creatures that fascinate me endlessly and I can't seem to stay away from them even when fear wants me to. I do it because it's incredibly interesting. I do it because the sexiness is rich and moves me like nothing else I know. I do it because it brings me joy and life flows through its every channel. I do it because they want it, it makes them richer too, in ways I only begin to comprehend. I do it because it's part of what's propelling me to the next level of my evolution. Like any trip through a birth canal, it's uncomfortable, painful, exciting, powerful, inexorable and infused with mystery- I have no idea where it's taking me really. Really. No fucking idea. But I'm here for the journey and, when all is said and done, that's all there is.

It ain't too pretty or pop-song romantic. This is monster love- it's messy, honest, painful, thrilling, undefinable (though trying is fun!), unpredictable, and free; both devouring and creating. This is the void where anything and everything is possible. Mystery rules. Lean in... lean in... lean in....I'll see you inside....


(Thanks to Luke and Marc for inspiring the Gossamer additions. Such an innnnnteresting monster....)

For Love

Yes lover, for you. 

Yet more still- for Love

Unfettered, 

On a scale larger

Than youth's dreams could ever hold. 

They shatter-

I bleed terror and delight, 

And expand beyond....

Unbound

From that small, lonely dock

I once pinned my heart on. 

Swing, glide, rock n roll wild, 

At sea on possibility. 

Singing, sweet harmony-

And Love's echoes sing back from everywhere, 

But most from the depths within.

Not IN it; I AM it. 

I cannot be unmoored, 

For this Love is my dock 

And my ocean. 

This Love is my boat

And my sail. 

Love- the very soul alight within me! 

I, this shard of god

That fell to earth. 

The dream of exile,

I slowly rub from my mind's sleepy eye, 

And awaken to the truth of ubiquitous power, 

No prodigal to anything but my self, 

I find I am abundantly home. 

Say not my love or yours, 

But only Love, miraculous and terrible. 

This is my home. 

This is my self. 

Our selves-

Love. 

We cannot lose what we are. 

Or win it. 

Only see true.

I weary of battles with mirror ghosts, 

I Lay down arms, 

Release-

Into the aweful beauty that is the only guarantee....

For now, love. For you. 

But yet more, 

And always, 

For Love. 

copyright 2010 Calleaghn Kinnamon

(I don't know who to credit for the photo. If you do, please tell me so I can add it!)

Super Art Freak Saves the World! Erm....right?

It seems like this world just gets crazier and crazier, right? Corruption, violence, poverty, disease, political shenanigans, animal and child abuse- the list goes on and on. I've had a personal moratorium on news for several months now. No newspapers, TV news, radio reports. It's something I need to do from time to time as it seems my psychic boundaries get so permeable that I have no decent shield against the horror of it all. If I let it come in indiscriminately, it overwhelms and shuts me down completely. I hear the highlights, no worries. It's not like I'm living in a cacoon of denial. I just won't open up for the whole shebang, every detail. There are times when begin fully informed is useful as part of acts of power, redemption, creativity, cycling mass pain, etc and there are times when it's absolutely counter productive to anything...well, productive.

It's always especially challenging to be present in a world gone mad, when we as individuals are working to be less defensive, brittle, protected. Some of us are working to open more fully, to be more permeable. One aspect of this as I see it, is that one source of humanity's current madness is our inability to face the difficult stuff in ourselves, our lives (and I'm speaking general here). To the degree we're unable or unwilling to meet, feel and love the things that make us uncomfortable about ourselves and our lives (self-abandonment is rampant), to this degree are we able, even eager to abandon, abuse and cause harm to others. In this sense, inner work is a radical, powerful act that ripples out from us to our families, friends, communities, the world. This I've known for some time. 

In terms of activism, I've done my share of marching, petitioning, voting, letter writing, donations of time, money and talent. One thing that's been a strong consistent desire in my adult life is being of service. That started shifting years ago when I got sick. I just didn't have the energy to show up out in the world like I used to. My path took me inward, closer to home (which was one of the gifts of illness, as it turned out. I'm not sure what else could've gotten my attention in the same way) and, inevitably probably, to creative work, which has been a part of my life always. 

(artwork: Picasso Wonder Woman by Mike Esparza)

This is the struggle now: Does making art serve the world? In particular, art that isn't explicitly revolutionary in any obvious sense. I know I'm not alone in having a pretty insistent inner critic that tells me, "Art is self-indulgent, ridiculous, and pointless. How can you waste time making silly things when so many are suffering, when things are falling apart around you? And beside, you're crap at it *sneer*". Why do we do it? Besides those of us that just have to and because it's sometimes actually fun, occasionally even satisfying. What's the point when Rome is burning around us? How is this process being in service? 

What do you think and feel about it? Does it help anything, anywhere? Is art essential for a healthy world culture? I've read what some of the "experts" have to say. I want to hear from you. What do you know about it? Do you wonder about this and  how do you answer that critic that says it's just another symptom of being spoiled, to spend time telling stories, painting, singing, sculpting, dancing....? How can we justify it in the face of so much social dis-ease? 

What do you know?  Even if you don't have answers, per se, is this something you can relate to and how do you work through it? If you do. 

Excuse me, I have a critic to gag while I get some work done.... 

Big Bang Beginnings

Not really. It's just a blog. But I guess one person's "just a blog" is another person's "Big Bang", at least potentially. Maybe we should ask the bangee. Ermmm...nevermind. It's my universe.

This is a mission statement of sorts. The challenge (as is often the case in my case) is to find that point on the graph where accuracy and simplicity meet. There’s a lot going on here and I’m likely to write about any of it on any given day. I’m an adventurer- spiritually, mentally, emotionally and physically (not so much of the bungee-jumping, sky-diving variety as the traveling, sexual exploration, playing with the pain/pleasure/insight boundaries). There’s an ebb and flow to everything, a natural rhythm and for the past few years I’ve been in an intense FLOW period with teensy, tinsy, much needed ebbs here and there. Lots and lots of edges are getting pushed in the tiny universe that is mine-for-now. So expect anything!

Though this is not a place for humans who are still legally children, kids of all ages over 18 are most welcome! I promise it’ll be personal, even graphic at times. There will be generous portions of foul language and tons of irreverence. I’m going to go deep. That’s what I do. You might be uncomfortable at times if you‘re hanging out with me. I am. Why not you? As a teacher told me many years ago: discomfort lets you know you’re in new territory. If growth is the aim, then we would do well to get more comfortable with discomfort. I tell you what- it’s never, ever boring, this growth thing Occasionally peaceful, relaxing and easeful, but boring- never.

Of course, we each have our limits with discomfort, how much, what kind, different tolerance on different days. Maybe this isn’t the place for you. There are other places to visit, other words to read, a myriad of voices all talking about the same thing in different ways. Find the song that touches your heart. If you decide to hang with me, my hope is that you will find something of yourself, for yourself- that bits of my experience will reflect some part of your own journey or process, of your own search, that we can help each other along the way. I invite you to share your reactions, relate similarities, disagree, suggest. I ask that you do so respectfully. So often it’s not what we say, but how we say it that determines how it’s received. Please keep that in mind and I will too.

Ultimately, what I’m talking about here is LOVE. Not the Harlequin Romance variety (though even that is not excluded *grin*), but the big god-flavored love that is both tender and merciless; love of the deep and wide kind that both holds and pushes, that wounds and feeds, sometimes simultaneously.  Terrible, beautiful love that asks from us everything we have, everything we think we are in order that we might be more than we ever knew.

Everything is sacred, everything is god, everything is love: rainbows, music, dishes, mosquitoes, temples, dirty diapers, death, sex, pancakes and earthquakes. Everything.
There will be generous portions of irreverence for all.

So, everything we do is in some sense a step in our dance with this great reality. We move toward or away, we embrace or deny in some measure. As with all intimacies, often the process of embracing is more a process of dismantling what stands in the way- usually some form or fear or behaviors stemming from same. My intention is that my living be as conscious a dance as possible. So much of the first half of my life was a bumbling, knee-jerk, survival dance. I was resourceful and it got me here- I honor that time deeply, but now I know better. I began to wake up to myself and something larger that I’m a part of about 25 years ago and here I am, still bumbling along, but eyes wide open. I want to be as awake as I can be, be aware of my choices in how I’m relating to everything in each moment. Whatever I’m doing and whatever I’m writing about it at the moment, at it’s core it’s all about this- this rich, fascinating dance we’re in with life, love, each other, the gods, the force that informs the whole gorgeous mess- including our beautiful, bumbling selves.

This then, is another avenue for yet another discussion with god: in me, in you, in everything. Knowing there is really only one of us here, yet knowing too that while we’re in bodies we have a unique (and oh-so-brief!) opportunity to know our-self better through this illusion of separation and sharing what we see. Thanks for sharing this space with me.  I'm excited to see what happens next…..