The challenge becomes to be moved

Nature always moves me.

Walking.
Behind my house.
Up sand and scrub.
Through arroyos and gravel roads.
The sky at my back, stares dark grey,
weighted and waiting to spill.
But only a few sprinkles press my cheeks.
And I walk further still, alone,
than I ever have before.
Past even the lone gates
with security enforced signs.
The heavy slate sky arrests my breath,
I stop to take it in,
before I turn.

Transition to Winter

Above: Snow Clouds in New Mexico

Transition. Life is a transition. Sometimes, I feel more like I'm in a transitory state, but even when I don't feel like I am, I still am. We are always transitioning from one stage to another. Right now, I seem to be pausing in my life and I am trying to wait patiently for knowledge of which way I am meant to turn next. Waiting can be uncomfortable because of the insecurity that uncertainty invites in all too easily.

I don't want to be waiting around wasting energy and creative opportunities. Life is too short. Once again, the best thing to do is take a deep breath and remain aware of the connection to Grace that is always there and to stay in that alignment as much as possible.

It is easy to get discouraged and to question oneself. To question one's abilities and talents of actually finding a sustainable career that one loves and that one can make a living from and still give back. I guess there comes a point to settle down and do that. Is that where I'm moving toward? I trust that I will find work which will allow and challenge me to use my gifts to create beauty in this world...

We can only be at where we are at.

Transition to Winter

Transition. Life is a transition. Sometimes, I feel more like I'm in a transitory state, but even when I don't feel like I am, I still am. We are always transitioning from one stage to another. Right now, I seem to be pausing in my life and I am trying to wait patiently for knowledge of which way I am meant to turn next. Waiting can be uncomfortable because of the insecurity that uncertainty invites in all too easily.

I don't want to be waiting around wasting energy and creative opportunities. Life is too short. Once again, the best thing to do is take a deep breath and remain aware of the connection to Grace that is always there and to stay in that alignment as much as possible.

It is easy to get discouraged and to question oneself. To question one's abilities and talents of actually finding a sustainable career that one loves and that can make a living from and still give back. I guess there comes a point to settle down and do that. Is that where I'm moving toward? I trust that I will find work which will allow and challenge me to use my gifts to create beauty in this world...

We can only be at where we are at.

Notes from the week

I went for a hike with James, Adam and Christina last weekend to the top of Pedernal, that flat-backed mountain portrayed in Georgia O'Keefe paintings. So, so beautiful! We camped out along the chama river the night before. In the morning, James and I woke up earlier than everyone else and visited Christ in the Desert Monastery, driving down the dirt road beside the river and the turning cottonwood trees under blue blue sky. We arrived in time to sit in on 20 minutes of the service, followed by silent meditation. I felt like it was exactly what I needed. We noticed a tarantula migrating on the road on the way back.

Poem from earlier in the week:

I'm back to staring at the yellow walls
that bite me if I touch them.
Release me from the halls
running from one end to the other.
Send me peace of mind
and surprises to discover.
I realize I am restless,
Consuming chips and chocolate.
Close those eyes and go to sleep,
Falling deep below the blips of thought,
The requests to know not what,
Into gratitude for the resting and the letting.

From 10/26:
I dreamt last night. I was fashioning little log float rafts for 20 people. We were going to head out across the ocean for the next 6 weeks. I hid my camera and belongings up in a palm tree. The place of departure was the same place in a dream a few months ago in which a tsunami slammed ashore and I held onto to a tree, underwater, submerged, until it passed.

I just finished the profoundly thought-provoking book, "Love is Stronger than Death" by Cynthia Bourgeault. Its an incredible account of conscious love and the bond that continues to develop beyond the grave. Here are just a few of the many memorable quotes:

"Hence, the core of all spiritual practice lies in teaching us not to identify with our psychological reactions to everything" (107)

"Dying to self...awakening to self: the two paths exist in creative tension within us" (134)

"Soul work with an authentic soul partner can be messy, untidy, frequently turbulent. The beloved holds a key possessed by no on else, which allows him or her to plunge deeper into the other's psychic realms than any other human being, to unlock dungeons that even the beloved cannot open alone" (138)

"True love demands sacrifice because true love is a transforming force and is really the birth pangs of union at a higher level" (147)

"The very intensity of the desire they have to give all to the other will become the bridge on which they cross from passion to compassion" (150)

"I want it because I think it helps him; he wants it because he thinks it helps me. After a while, who gives what or why doesn't matter anymore, only the giving itself matters" (172)

"Love remains and deepens, but its form changes...it renews itself in a different way. What you really do today is to put your lives in the service of love itself: to let the material of your own selves - your hopes and fears, imitations and shadows, your intimate jostling up against each other - become the friction that polishes you both to pure diamonds" (188 - marriage sermon)

"If the way is opening, keep on walking" (209)

I'm in.

Today, I worked at the dressage stable, as I have now for the past month. As always, I enjoy being near the horses. The work fits perfectly for where I am right now, in transition. In the most peaceful, accepting beautiful transition through the unknown that I have ever experienced in my life. Gone is the doubt, anxiety, restlessness that seemed to be lurking behind closed closets of my mind. It took a lot of closet cleaning during this past summers' spiritual retreat to sweep out the uncertainty - or a lot of the future anxiousness anyway. I learned that as long as I maintain awareness and live my life in as conscious a connection to Source/God/Sprit as I can, all is well and will continue to be well.

Two months ago, I was in the midst of exploring Alaska and the Pacific Northwest. Now, I'm living in the best house in my favorite little city of Santa Fe, with the most amazing house mates. I'm working part-time with horses and part time with design. Eventually, the design work will grow, but I'm happily enjoying the free time right now.

Tonight, I went to a Santa Fe business/networking meeting with the owner of KLA Concepts whom I do some contract work for. I met  a nice writer lady. As we were talking about poetry, she said, "Oh, there's a reading at Collected Works [bookstore] right now. Michael Dickman. Want to go?" I really did, so I headed over there with her and I'm glad I went. Now, as I often do after listening to someone pour out poetry aloud, I feel inspired to write in my journal.

Tonight, I caught up with my housemate, C. We joke that we always have a daily update. But we've missed the past few days, so we were so excited to see each other in the house at 7:30 pm, with no one else about, so we could catch up on life. Over the best bluebell ice-cream flavor of course: banana pudding, complete with vanilla wafers. A boy nicknamed her hot pants. I told her she should call him hot dish, since he is from Minnesota. Soon, there will be a hot dish/hot pants birthday party for him!

I myself am in love! For only the 2nd time in my life (the first time was a year and a half ago in Taiwan) It is the most beautiful feeling in the world, isn't it? I was completely unprepared to meet anyone I would fall in love with in Santa Fe. And now it is happening. Isn't that how it works?

My heart somersaulted when I got a text from him a few moments ago: "I am in love with you." Perhaps its that poetry reading that guides my response: "I'm in. I'm in love. I'm in love with you. You."

I am listening to Andrew Bird now. On this listen, for the first time, I realize how similar this band is to another of my favorites, Breathe Owl Breathe. All of my 4 house mates are home now, in the kitchen. I smell pizza. My room is cozy and warm from the space heater. I am overwhelmed with gratitude for life. This love I feel transcends all, wraps itself around my feet, making it easy to walk on clouds, on water, on parched earth, on dirty floors. I imagine the mist of it enveloping others - friends, strangers - and lifting them a little too. Someday, if I'm really lucky, I will feel this love for everyone.

Kindling

Imagine, two hummingbirds,
Building a fire together,
Delicately selecting kindling
of straw and spider web
and horse hair, and those
nearly translucent aspen leaves,
creating that base,
attentively adding the logs,
the breath of their wing beats
igniting the flame,
that leaps, alighting, ahead
into ruby-throated blaze.

Slumber awake

Cream curtains draped in light. Its morning. As I look closer, I notice tiny creases and window pane shadows on fabric. The curtain length lingers on the floor, too long to hang completely. I've woken up on a soft leather couch, quieter and warmer than usual, at my friend's house. We had a girl's slumber party, eating salad, cucumber sandwiches, cake, drinking ginger and watermelon elixirs prepared by Sarah, talking until 2am. No one else is awake. I cannot sleep later than 8:30. Not with the energizing sun streaming hello through blank slate curtains, as if saying today is open to possibilities and whims of the imagination, to hiking in the mountain magic of snow and aspens, to reading with tea near a fireplace, to taking some time for journaling, to talking to my sister.

The girls are up now, murmuring in a bedroom. The dogs too, barking playfully in the back yard. Already, so much joy in the day.

I woke up feeling officially settled back in to Santa Fe, a month after moving back. A cohesian of friends and social time, work and creative pursuits. Funny how it takes a while to develop that rhythm that determines the quality of fitting in a place, of belonging.