When you create the space,
when you cease trying to control the movement,
when you refrain from pushing yourself towards an imagined outcome,
only then can you open up and allow the mystery to guide you.

“This. This is how your life can look,” Mystery calls.

And it’s as if the sun had rose, illuminating the earth so that you were able to see clearly. This is what you wanted, what you hoped for; you just didn’t quite know how to make it fit within your life. But it already fit. You already fit. You simply allowed for the natural flow to carry you beyond what you ever could have imagined.

All you need to do is create the space for what you desire, for what you long for. Mystery will graciously walk through the opening and meet you in the expanse.
And then, she will carry you home.

Sun and Water

Love is seeking you out.
Asking to be chosen.
Discovered within the folds of living.
It can be hidden in the seconds that pass almost instantaneously,
in the ones that are so seemingly mundane they almost go
unnoticed,
unseen,
concealed between breath and second chances.
It can be found in those expelled within the bubbling up of frustration and
pleas for silence.
Between the hasty replies,
the scrape of the dinner plates, and
the beat of the heart as it descends into grace.

Look carefully.
Don’t let them pass you by -
those tender offerings of love
disguised as struggle and strife,
as languid motion
and never-ending seasons of uncertainty.
In words softly spoken and barely formed,
asking to be held with temperate delight,
and those awaiting replies.
In words cloaked with wishes
to be heard,
seen
in all of their tenderness and vulnerability.

Have you allowed them to caress your cheek
and open palm?
No?
Then forgive yourself
and start again.
Right now.
In this moment.
In this secret vow to notice,
to hold,
to give.
And remember the time you said yes to love
without hesitation or realization.
I know there were many.
Hold them close as you go in search of those
extraordinary moments of ordinary beauty.
Those tempered with love
that are humbly asking you to
open your heart up
to living your life,
as it is.

“How can I be whole already? My journey’s just begun,” she wondered.

“My dear, you were never broken, you were always whole,” a voice whispered
softly against the tender curve of her ear.

In that moment, she recognized her own magnificence
in the sweet sigh of a familiar voice – the voice of her truest Self.

And just like that she believed.

she believed

cup of devotion

Begin the day with love. Even when you can’t taste the flavor of love on the periphery. Even when it’s the last thing you feel within the tumbled emotions of your being. Just love.

This morning it did not come easily, hiding beneath warm blankets of distortion. But I could feel it wanting. Beating. Wishing. Can you wish love into existence? Can you peel back the surface layer, dipping your fingers into the exposed fissure, and attempt to call it forth? Can you allow the strength of your will to slowly, but resolutely crack your aching heart open wider than you ever thought possible, as you grasp the pulsing edges that have worn thin? Is it worth the fight? Perhaps. But maybe, just maybe, there is a better way.

Instead of attempting to bring love to light with the flesh of hand, you can find something real to grasp onto to. Because love – she is always there, asking to be held, offering herself up to share. Even when you feel that she is a distant memory and that you will never cross paths in the moment, she is there. Simply reach. Knowingly reach out to her with faith and trust. Grasp onto any flicker that scorches your wanting touch and embody the familiar, the truth. Because the truth is, she has never deserted you. She lies buried under the deception that clouds your waking mind. When you finally unearth her, deep within the center of your breath, allow that single flame to create the spark you need to begin with love. Begin with love. Always begin the day with love.

Your love will light the way.

dawn

For it is the soft moments of the dawn when I can fully embody love -
as I sink gracefully within the breath of awakening.

yes,
to those which cling to the edge, stoically fighting to stay hidden
and those that whisper with hesitation, coyly wishing to be heard
to those that start small, hardly recognizable, but soon explode into view
say yes

to those that want too much and hope for just enough
and those desperately panting without shame, eager to touch the light
to those that bury themselves deeply beneath layers of guise
say yes

to those that allow the breath to flow
and those that accelerate your heart
to those that seem difficult, but come so easily
say yes

art journal

devotion touchstones

 

Devotion is soft, like the faint drizzle
of rain upon a leaf.
It is leaning in and slowing down,
giving you time to notice,
to sink in,
and allow the moments of your dedication to spread
through your veins,
thick like the honey
sweetening the delicious sensuality
that already delights the palate.

Devotion is a passionate embrace
that makes coming alive
rich with goodness and adoration.
To devote your time and focus to something
is to pour yourself into it,
giving all of your love,
attention, and care to that which makes you feel
whole,
as if you could shed tears of
sustenance that will continue to satiate you
long after each drop has stained your face
and dried,
frozen to the
supple skin of desire.

 Devotion is a pause,
in the moment,
with the ritual homecoming of the beauty
that takes your quickening breath away.
It is all of your senses
deepening, strengthening,
as they wrap themselves around
your pulsing heart
craving more -
more of this act
of devout care
and tender nourishment.

 Devotion.
Devotion.
A silent whisper from deep within the folds
of your soul, pulling you closer,
bringing you face to face
with original
pleasure,
stripped down to the
transcendent act of offering
quiet faith
to your purest
Self.

Each morning the sun rises
and shines whether we can
view her radiance or not.
She rises up to begin,
to mark the dawn of a
new day.
She shines,
illuminating the world with
her magnificence.
She rises because she can,
because it’s her duty, her course,
her offering to the world.
She rises up above the fog,
above the clouds,
above the storms and the turmoil
and stands strong,
owning the sky,
her purpose
and the light she emits.
It doesn’t matter if she is seen,
or worshipped,
she doesn’t falter if
others view her as
bothersome or too strong.
She lights the way.
Her own way.
And brings her light down
on the earth
and all who inhabit it.
Because to extinguish her light
is out of the question.
To doubt her power
is unthinkable.
It is her job bring us out of
the dark,
to keep the light burning,
so that it may shower others with
her warmth,
no matter how diminished it
may be from the chaos
that surrounds her.

DSC_0933

We sit here in the morning light, side by side at the dining room table both lost in our thoughts, in our own version of this world. Hot oatmeal nourishes our bodies as we begin the day, but that’s where the semblance of this moment ends. My attention is drawn towards the large windows before me, his to the dinosaurs roaming around on the television. I see two crows soar across the sky in the distance.  Their flight pulling me back, back into the not-so-distant past.  As I lift my teacup up to my lips, I wish for the songbirds to let their familiar melodies pour out across the field to fill this silence with the sweetness of their sound.  The ache from their absence appears intermittently during this month of cooling temperatures and long, dark nights.  Soon our breakfast bowls echo with emptiness, and we both bring our attention back to each other.  A request arises for me to play, to set down this moment with tender grace so that I may follow his lead. Gently, I attempt to give myself over to building blocks and incredible design as our two worlds merge once again back into simple routine.  Into the quiet folds of a day that is just beginning.

DSC_0941

 

DSC_0942

 

DSC_0948

DSC_0964
Revisiting Christina Rosalie’s 5×5 Challenge

 

beauty in this space

There is beauty in the space that you are in right now -
in this moment in time.
In the peace and in the struggle,
in the uncertainty, in the shifting,
in the awakening that is happening along the edges of your knowing.
There is beauty to be found in the most ordinary of moments within the gentle folds of your life.
This life,
your life,
is beautiful.
All of it.
Even the parts that seemingly wear you down and challenge your resolve.
Because each moment you have survived
paired with the moments you have thrived,
has led you to this.
To you.
To who you are,
and to all the wisdom that you hold within the container of your being.
Remember that you are a vessel,
encompassing all of the tender, joyful moments that your eyes have been privy to,
while tenderly caressing all of those which felt as if they were chipping away your Self
piece by tenuous piece.
Maybe, just maybe, they weren’t chipping away the pieces,
but in actuality they were peeling away the layers,
exposing you to your truth,
to the person you always were inside,
but were never fully acquainted with.
And in that unveiling,
is the beauty of your own unique perspective that you bring into this world.
Your own flavor of enlightenment,
and you are embodying it for all to see
in this moment.
In this moment of pure beauty.

window

this week has been a kaleidoscope of thoughts and feelings,
emotions that are too big to contain, too real to hide.
this week has been like whiplash for the soul,
as each moment shifts and changes direction before I can even catch my breath.

this week was absorbing stories,
allowing them to consume me so that I could hear their cries
and hold space for their desperation,
and then –
only then,
could I embrace each one so that they felt heard,
loved and accepted
before continuing on without the fear of drowning amongst them,
carrying on in spite of them,
as they now followed my lead.

this week was chocolate cake baked tenderly for my Self,
slicing it, tearing into it piece by piece,
consuming it however I damn well please –
sans icing, knowing the cake is the most delectable part.
It was sliver after sliver of celebration
devoured and enjoyed in a quiet sort of acknowledgement
for a step towards being heard.

snowphoto credit: mamascout 

this week was pulling myself out of the vortex of comparison
before I tripped and fell deeper,
spiraling out of control.
it was feeling and showing genuine gratitude for the experience
exactly as it presented itself,
without compare,
without judgment,
with appreciation for what was -
an expansion, a risk, an allowing.

this week was a little less careful,
a little less perfection,
a little more spontaneous combustion.

 this week was sinking into the season,
streaming lights that twinkle,
brandishing flames of warmth,
mixing, combining, blending ingredients
with the anticipation of nourishment
and delight.
it was creating lists of words to come
that echo this warmth
and are wrapped delicately
with comforting intentions for the days ahead.

tea and bread

this week was not wanting what I want.
of wishing that the ideas, the thoughts, the questions
didn’t pull my attention this way and that,
bending me beyond recognition,
urging me to create,
to design a life.
this week was maddening thoughts,
pulling me further from where I am
so that I am able to construct what I only dream of,
it was the plea to keep all of these thoughts to myself,
not daring to let them out into the light
because they don’t come fast enough,
fast enough to quiet the noise and satiate the desire.

 this week was looking up,
lifting up,
melting into,
and exhaling with relief.
it was being led by the errant wind,
coming face to face with youthful sorrow,
being held
and stumbling forward.

 this week was a gathering,
the rhythm of the earth,
a circle of women,
an unearthing of fire
connection
beckoning my Self to come forward
and once again be seen
as only I can be seen.

drum circle