Monday, March 28, 2011
Cutest cover EVER!!! Thanks for posting this, Tubi! I can't get enough of it.
Think I know what to learn next on the uku ;) Happy Monday, friends. 4 days til our grand adventure... Keeping this message close....
Friday, March 25, 2011
Brian's cleared it all.
I'm grasping for survival. The survival of what's about to be lost. This moment, and now this one, and now this one. This home, in this community, in this time and place.
Never before has home tasted so healthy or cooperated so lovingly. In this home, Brian and I decided we wanted to spend the rest of our lives together. In this home, I planted my first garden. In this home, I learned how to grow my leg hair and cut my hair-hair and simply said, not care about how I look. In this home, I learned how to mop the floors and cook without animal products and eat quinoa and brussel sprouts and kale and popcorn on the stove. In this home, I learned how to not isolate myself when I'm feeling terribly sad, how to love the strengths of others, how to appreciate a good bath, slowing down, comfy slippers and lazy days. In this home I had beautiful orgasms, cried cathartic tears, smelled the natural odor of my armpits and ate frozen fruit. In this home we danced while doing dishes and sighed while sitting side-by-side.
In this home I let out my whole self.
In this home I felt loved for showing true.
In this home I found truth.
It's no wonder I'm grasping..
But there's truth to find here, too. And I'm still home. And I'm still seeking.
And I am so, so, SO thankful. And so, so terribly sad. And doing my best not to isolate myself. And standing in awe, eyes wide open, jaw dropped, before the monumental journey that we're facing. We are really doing this, leaving this, headed to that unknown destination. It feels utterly insane and completely irrational now, but I know there is a truth deeper than reason that's hiding on the other end. I just have to go to it, be in it, acknowledge that it's there. It is there where I am home to the always present home--the home of my own soul.
What's the casing of your home these days, loves? What feeding is your soul asking for?
Tuesday, March 22, 2011
1. Trust your intuition
2. Sing this song, or this one, or this one... or this one
3. Ask yourself what's really important
4. Ask yourself when you lie to yourself
5. Walk barefoot in the grass
6. Cry and tell stories and laugh and drink water
7. Call on help from people who are scared too
8. Be brave together
9. Because everything feels easier in courageous company
10. Whisper the truth
11. Then write it in big letters
12. Then paste it to your forehead and have everyone you walk past read it to you
13. Do the impossible
14. Jump off the roof
15. Onto a trampoline
16. Roll over laughing at the silliness of it all
17. Declare the truth
18. Let out a big "hip hip HOORAY!" like they taught you in grade school
19. Breathe deeply
20. Be right here...right here, right now
21. Aaahhhh, yes
Saturday, March 19, 2011
I spent this morning with my two best friends. Judy laid on her bed as we held up her clothes one by one. "Yes." "No." "Ummm, nah." We tossed the future into different piles, letting keepers tell the story of who we're becoming: a tall tree grounded to the beauty of existence; slender power revolving into an indistinguishable knowing; puddling eyes drizzled with sunlit freedom.
Bri & I are down to two weeks until departure for our grand bicycle adventure. My dresser was sold for $20 on Craig's List and the little clothing I kept is resting on Brian's recently cleared bookshelf. In boxes by the door, my art supplies wait their turn. New seeds are being born under florescent lights on the stove. There's a clearing here. There's room for new life.
I pick up my ukulele and play the song that Jodi and I wrote about the comfy red couch, about the coffee from the local shop, about choosing to be together. I walk barefoot through the front yard garden, watching the wine glass path glisten in the sun. I breathe in pollen and car exhaust and sky blue spring time and songs sung by birds.
I read my twitter feed and give all the attention in my bones to the truth of what's happening in the world. I look up and give all the attention in my bones to the truth of what's happening in this room. I pick up my new iPhone and smile at pictures of a long-held dream made manifest; the movements spreading with fiery force.
This is where the stories meet, I think.
This is where everything exists together.
This is where I get down on my knees and kiss the earth and choke up in gratitude and silently scream with my tears.
This is where I am.
Exactly where I want to be.
Thursday, March 3, 2011
|I keep hoping to have my heart cracked open. Do I really know what I'm hoping for? If I did, would I really want it? Yes. I want it all. Somehow. Truly.|
I bought myself a huge hard-covered sketch book like I had in 12th grade. I'm sketching and writing in big fancy letters and feeling inspired to let it all out. I'm reconnecting in serious ways to the bare bottom of my inspiration. And I'm feeling so hopeful that all this reconnecting will help me show you the real me. I'm so committed to that--to showing up fully as I am. But sometimes it's not easy to figure out how to do that in this space when I'm such a verbal, visual person. The answer, I suppose, is more obvious than I think. Be verbal. Be visual. Be true. Just be true.
A list of things that are inspiring the ba-jesus outta me:
This incredible folk opera and the beautiful woman behind it. If this is coming to a venue near you, GO SEE IT. It will not disappoint.
Playing my $26 dollar ukulele like there's no tomorrow.
This inspiring post by Kristin Noelle, and all of her beautiful sketches.
Riding my bike. Even up hills.
Being with my love.
Baring witness to a dear friend letting go of her powerlessness.
Flowers from post-Valentines Day dumpsters scattered all through the house.
Revolution against dictators.
This woman's heart-wrenching account of her family's experience with cancer.
Training to become an incredible coach.
Receiving a typewriter letter on neon green paper from a dear old friend.
Being with my parents.
Driving around with my dad, just being with the way he is and loving him for every bit of it.
Laying in the bath, blowing bubbles under the water.
This old post about love.
And this one about hope.
What's inspiring you these days? How do you reconnect to the bare bottom of what brings you joy?
I'd love to know.