I miss you. 

(Us.) 

(Me in the Light of You.)

Though, let’s be honest, I’ve enjoyed the space, too. 

But, also, I’ve missed you. 

In the space that’s Become I’ve found myself tripping on the outlines of organization, direction, floundering between the page and the pen, between typing and Now What and where does it all go? No more clear commitment, no point A – B  box to check or sign that says This Is What You Do.

fumbling fingers on 

an imaginary ball, 

move like honey – 

whirlwind – 

move like honey – 

whirlwind – 

move like honey – 

flexible – 

honey. 

(It doesn’t matter. – I’ll sort through it later – Just get it out – It doesn’t matter – I’ll sort through it later – just get it out – It doesn’t matter How – I’ll sort through it all Later – It doesn’t matter How, Just Get It Out)

Dilapidating moments twister

and my spine twists deeper, too. 

(Yoga…)

I bend because resistance will not change the course. 

Curve balls and puzzle pieces moving here. Transitions beginning / have already begun. Little by little the picture changes…Little by little it morphs….melts…transforms into something else, like snow…

I know it’s only been a few days, but I’ve missed you.

It’s dumping here. Chest high up on the mountain for 6 foot dudes, knee high below as I wade through powder to take out the trash. I hit the snow with a shovel and POOF. Powder. The white is welcomed after spring-like days.The heat made it starkly obvious how much I don’t want to be in warm climate; Everything in me said No.

Bonobo Stay The Same on repeat; Return To by #1 Dads, too. Thoughts on growth, attachment, desire. Woman. Mantra moments of No expectations, No expectations, No expectations. Centering on it not to settle but to accept. To better receive what’s given. Seeking the Highest Nature, and then bowing humbly to what comes. No expectations…

Energetic body and cells vibrating to Infinity. The figure eight circles my body during savasana. Third eye, full-system coursing. Quick. Both directions. Flowing.

Re-connecting to my practice in ways I haven’t felt in months. Deeply grateful for that. 

Unexpected but not surprising tears at simply being on the line with Jackie. “I think there’s just a lot of emotions inside”, I said. When I was a kid there were days my mom would just cry. I’d ask what was wrong, and she wouldn’t always know what to say. “Are you just full of tears today?”, I’d say. She’d smile and say yes, she was just full of tears…We say that to each other still sometimes, on days when it’s just that way…today it not one of those days, but I do come from her well, Oh, Yes, I do come from her well.

Pictures of my nephew sent from my brother-in-law. Again and again I melt. 

I made an insane and massive Orange Cake for Candice’s birthday. Logan and I teamed up and the whole process was a beautiful, long symphony of patience, love and simplicity. The recipe was crazy, calling for oozy glazed layers and candied orange skins, fresh juice and zest and one ingredient at a time… Her Nana use to make orange cake for her when she was a kid. She said she couldn’t remember the last time someone baked her a cake, that she’d never seen one like this before. Smile Wide Eyes Big, Delight, She said she’ll remember that cake until the day she dies and something about her voice made me believe her; a fleeting vision of Seeing the pin point of The Moment rippling out into her stream… All the way to the end… “Until the day I die”… Funny what we say without really realizing it. 

Massaging arches, massaging feet; palms, ankles, calves, shoulders, shoulders, chest. Side braids and Nepalese incense; orange light humming from the heater, bodies curled in, sweetness. Waves and Sweetness.

It feels good to write to you again.

30 days did something. 

Gave Voice a different Way. 

Maybe it just made me 

Look Closer.