Take it and Run.

That good feeling that just swept through, that impulse of clarity that quietly peaked and then fell…take it and run. Take it and run into its sweet, misty air. Embrace those small lifts when they come. Notice. Notice when you suddenly feel free, or light in your spirit. Take it and run. Lend your attention to it and say yes.

It doesn’t have to relate to anything, it doesn’t have to fit into the larger world of your circumstances. Let it mean nothing in relation to your life, let it be what it is and say “I see you”.

[ In fact, give yourself the greatest gift you may ever know. Feeling good for no reason, on purpose. ‘Is it because my hair looks good today? Is it because the sun is shining? Is it because I love them?’

No, it’s nothing. Let it be nothing. Grab hold of that joy and say, ‘I live you for no reason. I am joy, for no earthly reason. I gift this to myself, I breathe into it to remind myself.’

Remind yourself of what? Nothing. ]

Those moments are the exact moments when your healing, clarity, and life’s wishes are coming to you. That is where those things live, in the feeling of relief. Relief from carrying your ‘circumstances’ along with you wherever you go. Behind those circumstances is a place where all possibility exists, not beholden to your past or your current details of life.

That place sees you as free, creative, and able. It does not hold you to anything, it does not know you as a concept burdened by thousands of other concepts.

It knows you as Free.

And in those moments where you feel joy, unburdened, creative, excited (especially for no reason) you are living in that space that exists without the stories you’ve built. It invites you to speak the new story.

And that story begins with “I am”.

That story begins with that feeling, “Ahh”. Relief. Possibility. Freedom.

I am relief. I am possibility. I am freedom.

I weave my stories from the place of No Constructs. And so, I begin to build.

Let those moments be an invitation to create your life with more ease.

Let those moments come without substance. Without drink, or food, or drug, or intervention. Let them come in empty moments of mediocrity.

And if they come through substance or activity, say “hello, thank you, I know you. can you also come back for no reason and show me that I don’t need anything specific to find you and live you?”

Then, notice.

Eclipsing Light

I had a friend tell me once that I was a lighthouse. I thought it was a nice thing to say, but I didn’t totally understand what that meant. I guess, simply, someone who emits light.

Then, many years later I met someone and thought…that person is a lighthouse. Because at the time, I was in dark, stormy waters. But in their eyes was something familiar. Like someone lighting a match in the middle of a dark room.

I felt like one of those boats, out in choppy waters on a moon-less night, trying to stay afloat. And there, in the distance and through the fog…a light. A light that says, you are not lost, come this way.

I am reminded of a trip my sister and I took to St. Augustine, FL. She was walking and dancing on a wall of stones by the bay, while the lighthouse in the distance flashed its lights in intervals. I stood with my camera, soaking up the night sky and watching her skirt sway in the wind and in rhythm with her dance.

I had to wait for the times when the light would shine in our direction, to be able to get the picture of it illuminating the scene.

And I now sit here feeling in my heart the importance of darkness and the light, and how one seems to follow the other. And even more so, that when the light isn’t shining in one direction, it’s shining somewhere else.

In May of this year, I lost all of my light. I had nothing to give and nothing to shine on anyone. I thought I might die of nothingness, as all I knew was giving.

This came as a result of “healing”. Healing that was unlike anything I’d known before. It twisted me inside out and backwards, it chewed me up, spit me out and chewed me back up again.

I came face to face with the ugliest parts of me and the ugly in others too. And for the first time, I didn’t want to run. I wanted to know what it was like to stand, tall and wide as an oak tree, face to face with everything I’d run from my whole life.

I wanted to know what would happen next.

And that’s when the light turned off.

But now I know, it didn’t turn off…it changed direction.

It lit up the inside, rather than the outside. I thought I would die, not emitting light to the external world.

And in a way, I did. I turned inside out.

And little by little, I started seeing that light emitting from me again.

May we all know what it’s like to be the lighthouse and to be the ship in dark, stormy waters. Remembering that we’re all in this together, even when we’re alone.

In the Meadows

Does Ease still know my name?

Though I wandered in the valleys of doubt

In the shadow of strain

Swam in rivers of anger

In rage and loathing

Does love still know my name?

I toiled in the mines of Ugly

Tearing away at the walls of disease

Does the light still know my name?

They said, go. Unearth yourself.

Be unafraid of what you find.

And I walked through walls of wind

Head down, my whole body

Fighting against the strength of their power

In this, after this,

Does Ease still know my name?

Can I sit in the meadows of life’s beauty once again?

Will it have me?

In the bright yet gentle sunshine-

Knee high grass and wildflowers

Sitting on the seat of the divine,

Will it still have me?

Do my battered limbs and coal-blackened face

Still have a place

In that meadow?

Will it still have me?

Into the Cold

The world became scary
Scary
Cold
And I wanted to run back
To the places I know
Where I feel safe
Those pockets, or streams
Where the world is blocked out
A warm fog of yellows and browns
Carries me,
And the world is distant.


No, stay.


I stayed
In the cold
In the realization of the cold
Briefly, feeling the scary world
Cold and blustering.


I said, Heba stay. Bundle up.
Briefly. Blustery.
I stayed. I felt the cold.
[Time ticks]


And then I came home.
Into the present moment.
And out of my mind.