the ocean luminous (ebb and flow)

Five days on the river. Step by step moving into the open land, away from the sparse population of houses and cars, until I climb up onto the mesa and see the specks of what remains vanishing over my shoulder. We left the back way, meaning through the back of the land to the river, never needing to set foot on the roads at all.

For five days I have been in the next level of my education.
Spirit is revealing so much to me; layer by layer I am infused with this teaching, until I crack open, shed my skin and in this new body watch and listen anew. And again. And again. And again. And again.

Serpent swallowing it's tail is what this time and space is. I spiral into myself and spiral out to dive deep into the chocolate pools of the Gila nestled in the canyons.

These footpaths become faint at times, hidden in the willow, banks and river crossings. This land has welcomed me and invited me deeper, deeper, deeper.
The old people of this place have a great presence still. Their caves still bear the black of their fires on the ceilings, their handholds for drilling those fires lay among the stones; their pottery is here, their saved corn seeds are here.

I'm learning that healing comes with the asking, and relations with the plants through courtship. Fear draws energy out and disperses it. Trust is patiently blowing on the embers with a steadfast focus; tending the fire.
And humility. All this is me only as much as it flows though me. When we are open and willing to walk the path of the gifts given to us, all benefits. The way opens before me when I am fully accepting what is mine to live.

Song to the rattlesnake I sing, I chant for the faith I have in the medicines of this Earth. For the fears of loss and falling that I lay down again and again. For the trust that this is all a great lesson and gift. For my intention to walk through it all. Body and spirit and heart and mind.

Red dock, chapparal, turpentine bush, the wild artemesia, rabbitbush, cypress, white sage and pitch. I cut my thumb deeply with my knife, the most severe injury I have ever incurred, an injury not warranted by just cutting wool. Any more, and I would have much less thumb. Any less, and I don't think I could have seen what I did about fear and faith in the abundance and care the earth provides. In the modern world we have now I would have needed a lot of stitches. These plants, astringent and hemostatic and antimicrobial are walking with me. My blood gushed out onto the ground. I was afraid. A day's walk of steady walking away from "medical care" my mind spun "what if, what if, what if..."

These plants offered their protection; I asked. There has been no swelling, there is no open gash. It is much trickier to type and I have to take care in all my activities to allow this healing. Wrapped in purple cloth I am hitchhiking through the desert, in the river, hitchhiking everywhere. Or I was, until today when it feels fine to have my thumb hang downward.

On the other side, two dear friends of mine who have chosen to walk steadily in simplicity had to go to the hospital this week to deliver their baby that would not come otherwise, then accept heavy medication for fatally dangerous arterial clotting. If not for western medicine, would they be alive and recovering now? Have we known how to treat the most acute and serious cases before but forgotten the way?

We are magic, we are as limitless as we allow ourselves, and we are masters of manifestation. I truly believe we are capable of anything. And, mastery comes with practice, devotion and balance. Holding our highest vision in one hand and allowing what is in the other. I find I cannot evolve and transform if I do not hold space for myself in the places I would rather not be. We can keep our hearts soft and allow what we feel, experience, and have available to us. Love it, care for it, shape it, learn from it.

For all this unfolding and flight on the wings of dream, and for all who walk with me I give honor and thanks.

This week and yesterday

Being here is so wonderful.
I am spending a lot of time with myself: letting go, opening, breathing, meditating.

The hills started to burn a few days ago, the sun scorching the land to the point that dry underbrush catches fire. The horizons were smudged with a smoky haze that trapped the heat down against the valley in a sort of dry-humid way. Then on the 4th the first rain came, hard and long. I was at a party when it finally began after hours of dark clouds churning and strong, dust-whipping winds. The energy of the group was frenetic and excited as it all came pouring down.

I am so grateful to be living in practice and play with Samuel and Kate:
my sweet rockstar superhero friends, who are also human and sometimes bicker and get snappy with each other. I get an up-close view here, sharing life so intimately with them.
This is very timely as I have been reflecting on my own relationship and the ways we can be less than our greatest.

I am continually perplexed to see that we are the most easily irritated and hurtful towards the people closest to us. Those we love the most get to experience our darkest aspects, as we witness theirs. This exchange, though painful and challenging as it may be, is one of the most powerful opportunities for transformation I have encountered. Add awareness and inquiry to the equation, and what an invitation this is into greater consciousness. Let us exorcise the demons!

That which is to give light must endure burning

Walking through the fire
here,
where all rises to the surface quickly.

Reaction, imbalance, irritation,
This heat brings everything up for us to look at.

Some days I’ve battled wanting to know
Wanting to know where my home is
Where it is that I can root down, build, grow and play

Walking through the fire,
I practice patience, stillness, and presence.



The monsoons are coming
The river will rise

I sit silent under the moon
Barn owls fly overhead
Not only at night but in the day too
Crying their cries of flight and sky

One lights in branches above me
I beneath her
Feeling this earth below me

How I know myself and still forget sometimes,
Then remember again
Is how I am learning to fly

I am

Loving here,
this dry desert land ancient and majestic

I am
Engulfed nightly in the expanse of this southern sky backlit
by the brilliance of the sinking sun

All 360 degrees wide open and
Thirty seven thousand hues of blue to violet to crimson:
radiant

I am
Loving, loving, loving myself

I am
practicing all the yogic ninja training tricks I know
in the morning cool

I am
understanding siesta: jumping in the water,
wrapping myself in a wet shawl,
reading, writing, crafting, napping

I am
Feeling my body, strong and alive
Pulsing alive for this place and time

In my dreaming I had a song stick

I cannot tell you much more about it
I had a stick
And it had song

It was powerful, magic, and beautiful

But I was afraid to use it
I was afraid to be seen

And the song stick withered, broken


From deep down inside me my soul spoke

I wish to sing as if no one were listening
I wish to dance as if no one was watching

Do not be afraid to be seen
Do not be afraid to be heard

Have no fear
Spirit dwell in me