I Am Woman

I am woman.

These piercing eyes, cosmic windows,
the light therein the shimmer of distant stars.
If the intensity of my gaze is unsettling, 
do not turn from me.
Open to the winds of change blown in from the farthest reaches of eternity.

Dig deeper into the place where it stirs you.
You will meet your soul’s longing when you find the courage to stand naked in your entirety, 
before its vast revelation
with a silenced mind and open heart, 
even as it slays you in your surrender.

I am woman.

The tears that burn my eyes
and stain my cheeks release
the wailing pain, grief, fear, rejection, suffering, longing to be seen, held, allowed, accepted, witnessed, and revealed, 
of all who have drawn the breath of life.

I am woman.

You call me wife, mother, daughter, sister, friend, teacher, healer, nurse, student, wayfarer, servant, master.
I do not seek.
The pulsing, vibrating, hum
coursing through my feet, legs, loins, belly, heart, chest, throat, and head,
is eternity in its unhurried, unsullied, 
unfurling dance.
I want nothing else.

I am woman.

I honor the responsibility that came
with the gift of my consciousness.
“One who conquers herself is greater than one who conquers a thousand in battle,” he said. 
My skin is not a boundary between me and you. Perception of self-and-other, self-and-divine, 
is self-made, until those mental chains
are Self-laid.

There is no “other” responsible
for righting mankind. 
The righting happens in every inhale, exhale.
It is cultivated in the field of silence within that underlies and births existence. 
It is open to those who surrender distraction and face the fear teeming beneath the surface.
To create a new harmony
requires each of us sing a new song.
Our trembling, bloodied children
plead in silent whispers. 

I am woman.

Witness the unseen in me,
the unseen in you.
Witness my roots extending into
the depths of their source,
my crown open to the heavens.
Feel my beating heart,
my arms for holding, 
compassion, and unconditionality,
even as they tremble in their knowing.
With the gift of my being
I kneel before you in service and surrender,
as my sword one-pointedly slays distortion.

I am woman.

Pause with me for an infinite breath. 
Let us join hands and kneel together
in sacred remembrance, 
in solemn vow to cleanse from our hands the blood of our ancestors, 
now, in this breath.
This is not for tomorrow.
Bring your sadness, grief, pain, fear, anger, hatred, doubt, cynicism, sarcasm, mistrust, misdeeds, disillusionment, denial, projection, assumption—ay, bring your guns, knives, and weapons of every kind. 

Let us place them on the alter of creation,
the crucible of alchemy, of holy remembrance, the silent place we fuel with feathered wings, 
so the unseen can burn it clean.
Our trembling bloodied children
look to us now.

I am woman.

There is a drum beating,
a heart beating,
deep within the belly of mankind.
Let us bow our heads, 
in silent, sacred remembrance
as our flesh reveals itself to us,
and the diamond halls
of quiet that echo in our cells,
beckon in the voice of the ancient.

I am woman.

These eyes that pierce your soul
are cosmic windows through which
winds of change now blow, 
the light therein the shimmer of distant stars.
I am you. You are me.
Our heart and drum no longer beat silently.


     Trust that when it is time for the next step, that foot-place will be illuminated. It is not necessary to see the entirety of the path ahead. Sometimes it is a step of action, of doing. Sometimes the step isn’t a step at all, but a place of gentle abiding in the potent alchemical germination that occurs in the darkness, under the surface. This is a place of great patience, of resting in what may feel like uncertainty. For the seed to become a sprout that becomes a great strong tree, this resting-in, this abiding, is essential. Don’t discount the stand-still or grasp haphazardly in response to the discomfort that not-knowing, or uncertainty, can bring. This can  obscure the guidance. Rest in the unknown like the fertile ground of potential that it is. The medicine is here. Pure abiding presence fertilizes the deep, rich, dark soil. Trust.

    The illumination is the step that pulls your heart toward it, the one that inspires you, has your being feeling a whole body yes. It isn’t the one that leaves you feeling contracted within. The sharper the awareness, the louder and clearer the intuition, or illumination. The cleaner and more-tended the temple of the body, the more apparent the illumination. This is simply how it is. That guiding inner compass is there. Visualize a path in a dense forest on a dark night. When it is time for the next step, that foot-place will illumine itself if one is in attendance.

    The trusting, the patiently abiding in the unknown, the uncertainty, that is the invitation. The inquiry. The practice. Go deep within. It is from there that the what-is and what’s-to-be emerges. 

Feeling Adrift

At times the intensity of our emotional and felt experience is such that we have the sense of being adrift. The sense of being in a lifeboat alone in unchartered waters without a rudder to steer us, or even any sense of where we’d go if we had a rudder for steering. During times like this there is a substantive question mark planted squarely over our hearts that says, “huh?” with regard to where we are and where we’re headed. To say it feels uncomfortable is putting it mildly. We squirm in our skin. We often feel foreign to ourselves, wondering where the ever-sturdy, clear-hearted version of ourselves went.

If we check in with ourselves, we might sense thick feelings or sensations in our chest, our heart center, or our belly. It might feel like an ache or a contraction. If we sense more deeply into these sensations—a gentle, quiet return—we might realize that there is deep sadness or grief therein, that when met with the gentle return of the light of our awareness, bring tears of release.

Fear not. This is a powerful place to be that calls for showing up differently. When the old M.O. fails to serve us, a vaster intelligence is at work. Thank goodness this intelligence is encoded in our DNA. It vibrates in our cells. It informs our hearts. It is, in fact, all that ever was, is, or will be. It has the power to stop us dead in our tracks, which is ultimately for our benefit, though it can, at times, feel like an evisceration.

What do we do when we find ourselves feeling adrift? We hang tight, gently and quietly. We give ourselves the space we need in our lives to accommodate our unfolding, which may mean permission not to make plans or show up for others like we usually do. Being selfish is a great act of self-love that is absolutely warranted and needs no permission save that which we give ourselves to tend to the garden of our being. We let go of ways that keep us tethered into the old M.O. … ways of avoiding our experience that include binge-watching episodes, social media, internet, cell phone, and reliance on others for our validation and sense of direction. We rise in the unknown of our experience.

It’s like being in a chrysalis. Transformation happens to the extent that we show up for it. A wise man once said that if you turn a light on in a dark room the darkness must go away. Lucky for us our exquisite awareness—that which is in continuum with all of eternity—is the only light we ever needed for this journey. When we cultivate it, we can use it for our benefit, for our growth. We bring it gently within to that which feels painful, contracted. Maybe to the areas in the heart center, the chest, the belly, or wherever they may be. We show up with this exquisite light with which we were gifted without any labels or story. That means dropping whatever we think we know about the experience despite how convincing or seductive it seems. We show up with just the purity of our awareness.

We leave behind any story that suggests that the pain, grief, sadness, doubt, or uncertainty is caused by ourselves, a situation, or a person. We let any sense of self-doubt that arises because of these feelings just be. We leave behind the old pattern that has us feeling less-than, damaged, or as if “something is wrong with me” because of the feelings. We stop trying to plan because being in the chrysalis is so uncomfortable that we spin our wheels in attempt to be elsewhere.

We simply show up with the powerful light of our awareness, of our being. We bring it to the painful parts. We breathe into them, making our breaths deeper and longer such that they reach the depths of the belly. We stop talking and let ourselves have the experience of that which feels staggeringly uncomfortable. Maybe we gently move our bodies if our deepest intelligence calls for it. We keep returning to the experience when we realize that the light of our exquisite awareness—the only balm we ever needed—is drawn back into story about the experience, spinning our wheels in self-doubt or planning ourselves out of it. We do these things not because we’re trying to change ourselves, but because that is what is warranted. A mother doesn’t hold and rock an infant because she is supposed to, needs to, or because she wishes the child be different. It is simply called for.

We keep returning. One of the single greatest gifts of being human is the ability to begin again, in any now in which we find ourselves. We always have the choice to begin anew, which isn’t something we should take lightly. It is profound. We can choose to gently and quietly return to that which has us feeling adrift and be with ourselves in a new way. We can be with ourselves in such a way that we no longer doubt ourselves and kick-and-scream when we feel the intense pain or discomfort of sadness, grief, anger, or uncertainty. That was the old M.O. We can instead usher in acceptance, allowance, and radical self-love for the entirety of our experience, which ultimately allows for our unfoldment, our transformation in the chrysalis of being. We are absolutely stronger than we think.

There is always a choice, however it requires slowing down and greater care. It requires time alone, and cultivation. It requires finding the legs to stand squarely in the face of self-doubt and beam the brightness of our being, our awareness, deep within the shadows of our nooks and crannies. We are fortunate that we were equipped with all that we ever needed for this at-times difficult journey. Giving ourselves what we need for our chrysalis-time is imperative. Rest assured that if you hang in there and tend to the chrysalis, a time will come when you look back and realize that you were never adrift. You were being given the opportunity to dig deeper and cultivate trust in unchartered waters. Growth is rarely comfortable.

Your thoughts, comments, questions, or musings are welcomed in the comments...


The Inner Landscape

The inner landscape is the vastest and most mysterious of them all. Some of it is bathed in light so bright it is blinding. Some of it is enshrouded in darkness impenetrable to untrained eyes. There are parts worn soft and smooth over time by sacred awareness, or presence, and other parts ragged, sharp, and steep.

There are meadows and valleys, canyons and chasms, through which tears flow and cosmic winds blow. Every inhale and exhale a wave from the grandest of oceans, continually bathing the shore of being. The yearning to know this land is an unnameable longing, a silent call from the depths. To know our infinite nature, we must turn our eyes inward...and be willing to be blinded by our light, and cut by that which is sharp within.

It is a journey that brings us to our knees and gives us wings to soar. That which we seek flourishes from the compost of our terrain. The single most sacred pilgrimage you will ever make is the one right where you are.


Nothing to Figure Out


    All that ever exists is this present moment. Right now. In this present moment there is nothing to figure out. The present needs no justification, no tweaking, and no explanation. If we’re able to settle into this present moment fully, information that is called for in any given situation can organically arise to meet it, thereby eliminating the need for stressful face-contorting-analysis that keeps us weighted and contracted. We can rest in situations with a fluidity and ease that is not present when we are trying so hard to “figure it all out.” Trying so hard to figure it out keeps us tethered to a future that doesn’t ever exist. If we can’t meet the present moment as it is, we’re missing out on the nectar, the balm, the clarity we’re trying so hard to invoke. Opening to the brilliant fluid dynamism that is now allows outrageous possibilities we never could have conjured up on our own. It requires trust and a willingness to stay. Don’t let the dead-end of discomfort with not-knowing—with uncertainty—be a barrier to this magnificence.


Happy Father's Day


Happy Father’s day, Fathers. 

May your strength, support, power, courage, generosity of spirit, compassion, wisdom, and vast capacity for love help us breathe into creation the world of unconditional kindness that teeter’s on the verge of existence.

The world where we move more slowly to pause and look deeply into the eyes of other, experiencing there our own eternal nature. 

The world where we care more deeply about one another, because we’ve blown through the self-limiting beliefs about ourselves, other, the world, and existence that keep our hearts chained to the notion of separate, and actualized our Oneness. 

The world where we See. Each. Other. 

The world where our hearts and hands extend willingly to the disenfranchised and to those reeling from the grief of fear-based brutality that their people endure/ed in the name of our freedom. 

The world where that generations-old fear no longer causes us to distrust and dislike one another, instead of sitting down and speaking to one another like the human family that we are.

The world where we perceive Mother Earth and all of her creatures as the exquisitely wise teachers that they are. 

May you not only help teach our children this, but teach us as well. May the support of the ancestors protect and guide your powerful unconditional hearts. Our survival depends on it.

Happy Father’s Day, indeed.

With love and reverence,