WANDERER, there is no path.

Wanderer, your footsteps are
the road, and nothing more;
wanderer, there is no road,
the way is made by walking.

—Antonio Machado

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We are called into the fullness of living, which can be
manifested in a multitude of ways.

We have to listen closely for what is truly life-giving
and there lies the struggle.

We resist trusting ourselves.

We tell ourselves stories about why we should stay stuck where we are.

 

Just got off the phone with a lovely friend who understands my soul, though hundred of miles away. I’m feeling so sad as of late, overwhelmed with the weight of indecision and caught up in my hope of perpetual ideals. I’m trying to figure out the next best thing, but I am continually caught up on what “the plan” should be and how will I know if this is the right decision. My friend reminded me that my path is right because it is my path, unlike any other. There is no right or wrong because my journey is my own.

There is so much truth there. I know it.
Surely, we will arrive where we are going. We simply must keep walking.

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Left foot. Right foot. Breathe.

Discomfort of Newness

“Anxiety is the dizziness of freedom.” -Kierkegaard

“Every fresh experience has the dizziness of freedom. Every time we reach beyond what is familiar, there is this necessary acclimation to what is new. It is the doorway to all learning. We needn’t be afraid of it or give it too much power. We simply have to keep leaning into what we are learning.”
Mark Nepo from “Book of Awakening” Entry: September 11

there is always pain in change. embrace it.

At the heart of mystery

Why should we have more faith
in an amaryllis bulb
than in ourselves?
We know, perhaps,
that the amaryllis lives
by an inner law
with which we have lost touch
in ourselves.

The blossom dies;
with rest and darkness,
another bloom will come
we know, next year…

When we listen to the amaryllis,
resonate with its silence,
its eternal stillness,

we find ourselves
at the heart of the mystery

—Marion Woodman, Coming Home to Myself

i say yes & so does God

i painted my nails today for the first time in years as a sort of
celebration and definitely as a proclamation:::

today is the day i made the promise to myself to live more from intention and less from habit.

i realized that i have been responding to the circumstances around me out of my habitual fear and anxiety and i am tired of it. the truth is: i am not who i was & i do not need to continue responding to life like she is beating me up. this is also true: i am responsible for my own feelings. i am responsible for my own responses.

{everything else is out of my hands}

i’ve been feeling weary and weepy and far too alone inside myself wondering “How long will this last?” & “When will he realize I’m too much?” and all the while, continually waiting for the storm to come. I am tired from all the fear and holding back. I don’t want to edit myself or my story, but instead,
I want to embrace who I am now and who I want to be.

So today I decided to let go of some guilt and shame and be ok with me.
even when i mess up, it doesn’t change who i am.

–it’s amazing what happens when i release the grip—

i do believe that every second is a second chance, for we continually are deciding
who we are & what we value. i choose to accept all my second chances
as new beginnings.

and because today i feel like being colorful and girly, i say yes to the bright
red polish & yes to taking care of myself.

I asked God if it was okay to be melodramatic
and she said yes
I asked her if it was okay to be short
and she said it sure is
I asked her if I could wear nail polish
or not wear nail polish
and she said honey
she calls me that sometimes
she said you can do just exactly
what you want to
Thanks God I said
And is it even okay if I don’t paragraph
my letters
Sweetcakes God said
who knows where she picked that up
what I’m telling you is
Yes Yes Yes

“God says yes to me” by Kaylin Haught from The Palm of your Hand, 1995


everything changes.

a very busy travel weekend: 5 cities in 3 different states within 3 days.

oOooh, the joy of the road…


“You meet a new person, you go with him and suddenly you get a
whole new city…you go down new streets, you see houses you
never saw before, pass places you didn’t even know were there.
Everything changes.”  ― Samuel R. Delany, Dhalgren

 

 

this mess Of me

The snow has finally made its way to our neighborhood this week, blanketing the once green grass and hiding the bright blue skies that make me feel so fine. It’s cooold here now and somehow in the midst of the chill, on most days, I feel a sort of warmth glowing inside me.

  

I am not entirely ignorant to recognize that this warmth inside may or may not (though it probably is ‘may’) have to do with a certain handsome man who has recently caught my attention. He is an old friend who has slowly revealed depths of feelings that he has kept hidden for years & while it is unnerving, is it also..amazing….exciting….terrifying..

Ingrid Michaelson is playing now and I am sitting in the midst of several piles I have arranged on my bedroom floor in an attempt to “organize” my things and create a sense of home. Only 6 short months ago, I rearranged this space in hopes to free my mind from the love that once lived here too…I thought that maybe by placing my art table where the bed once had been, perhaps then I would too, be able to place something or someone else in the hole in my heart where he once had been.

I am still learning, but I know more now that these ideas of ‘letting go’ and ‘moving on’ do not mean getting rid of the memory of the feelings and moments that I cherished together with him. Just in the way we come to our fullness not in spite of our darkness, but in the embrace of it, so too must we come to our newness not in spite of our pasts, but in the acceptance of it as part of our story.

As I’m sitting here now in the mess of  this still-yet-to-be-organized room, I am suddenly more aware of the mess still inside of me, the mess of who I am, what with all the bruises, the scars, the broken and repairing heart. I can’t help but wonder if my attempts to organize my room are somehow mystically connected with the seemingly never ending desire in me to be ok the way I think everyone else is ok. I often still hear his words, saying I need to “get my shit together,” and while I know that I am better now, more whole, there is an unrelentless fear that lingers, often unbeknownst to the now strong parts of me…until days like this..

Like now..

Like now when there is the opportunity of new love and new discovery before me. I feel a surge in me to love again and I want to grab hold of it and let it take me away, but…here it is…

I AM SCARED.

I am scared that if I show him my true self and all of me and my mess, he won’t like me anymore…and yet, even more than that, I am afraid that when he does see more of me, he will continue to choose to stay.

The thing is, I know how to do difficult. I know how to do tension and heavy breathing. But I am unpracticed in the field of unconditional love, the love that says yes to me, just as I am.

I catch myself continually trying to cover up the parts of myself that I don’t accept…like my messy room, my unruly hair, my blemished face, and my thick thighs…oh, the worries of thighs…

Why do I keep this up?

This bewilders me.

If I want to be accepted and loved as is, I must accept and embrace these parts of me that I often consider “too lumpy” or “too small” or “too messy, too quiet,  too much, too strange.” As Sabrina Ward Harrison has written, “I must ask myself, ‘What am I trying to be that I already am?’ If I don’t love those parts of me, the tucked in, sucked in, silent parts, I think it will be a very sad journey. and a pathetic waste of time.”

The truth is, it’s been a long and difficult year and this place I’m in now is one of repair and new growth, which is to say a season of tension and birth. And should I allow all this newness to be birthed in me, I must welcome the mess that comes along with…

I can’t control when I heal, but I can watch what happens
and try to be ever so gentle with the ache that comes
while I’m sitting cross-legged in my pajamas on the floor,
admits piles of papers and books and tears stuck too far down.
I know this healing is a process that is still moving, like the water, and I must only allow myself to be moved by it as it flows. 

& just like always, it’s going to be ok.

All in all, I believe that every moment is an opportunity to choose love over fear.
I want to open these trembling hands and say “yes” to love, though I am so afraid. I’m a mess, but I am beautiful. (and I am enough.)

 

This is the beginning of something…