She Woke Up Different

Hello resilient being of beauty and magic,

I deeply appreciate you.

Even if I have never witnessed the map of your face, or had the pleasure of hearing the song of your voice, I want you to know I appreciate you.

I appreciate your courage, your tenacity, the fierce and tender beauty you show in the face of every single upside down and backward moment this marvelous, upheaval, amazement called Life as a human-being on planet Earth brings your way.

I deeply appreciate your contribution to the Whole. We would not be who we are without you.

Even if you don’t believe you are – all that. I do.

I know. Because you are still here. Breathing. Doing you. Being. Becoming more of you.

No. Small. Thing.

So before you keep reading – perhaps take a moment or three to simply open and receive appreciation.

Gently and quietly breathe in and…

Allow this heartfelt appreciation from me to you to land. To generate within you whatever is most needed in this moment.

To welcome any feelings that arise to sweep you clean. To flow. To simply move.

I deeply appreciate you.

I appreciate –

All that you are. All that you share. All that you do.

I. Appreciate. You.

And now a little story….

I am transitioning from the beautiful nest that has solidly held and tended me since the Spring Equinox in March to a new one in Taos.

What was to be eight nights in March turned into six months almost to the day. My plan to return to my watery home in my beloved PNW islands in early April turned into an extended stay in a beautiful tree-filled canyon just north of Santa Fe, NM.

Like so many of you, my life has taken some very unexpected turns and twists these last many months. We are – every one of us – in the midst of a global initiatory experience. A true heroine’s or hero’s journey. This, my friend is so NOT business as usual, is it?

We have found or deepened ways of coming back to center. Of flowing with and surrendering to the river of Life. Of slowing down, self tending. Of showing up in greater service and support for the kind of world we want to live in. Of becoming more human.

Journaling has always been an avenue of self-discovery, of comfort, a way of getting through, of fortifying the relationship and conversation with myself, of honing my voice since I was twelve years old. That practice has deepened and widened to become not just a catch all for whatever is coming to the surface and working itself through, of what is inspiring me, the chronicle of a life, it became a truer reflection of myself, of my spirit and soul speaking to and through me.

Word-filled volumes have given way to color-smeared pages, images torn from magazines, collages, found detritus, bits and pieces, phrases that arrest me. The oceans, rivers and streams of words are still present, now they are simply tucked in underneath – as though what is most important has nothing at all to do with words or ideas.

My journals have become magic books for me. Soothing. Reassuring. A touchstone I am able to come back to, to take in with new eyes every time I pick one up and thumb through. A fascinating portal of time and place.

There have been many phrases and images that have supported and nourished me this half-year. Have urged me to drop deeper. To trust my own inner directive even more strongly. To stay with “myself” and the process of unfolding even – especially – when it made no sense. Some of the words just dropped in. Some came in conversations. Some came from other amazing humans.

Some became mantras quietly rolling through my being – not unlike a smooth stone carried in a pocket, a hand reaching for it over and over again – for comfort, for reassurance, for fortification.

These images tell a story. A story of dissolution, contraction and expansion. A story of transformation and embodiment. A heroine’s tale.

Our subconscious – the aspects below our everyday conscious awareness – speak to us in images. They connect with the spirit and soul, to the archetypal qualities alive and available to each of us. They work with us in mysterious ways, seeping into crevices, softening our hard edges, transporting us into a fuller, more inclusive Life lived.

I’m sharing a few photos and pages taken from my journal with you today, the sacred container of my own journey these last six months – during which time I have been taken deep within, died and been reborn.

Perhaps you will find them nourishing. Useful. Generative. Perhaps they will speak to you in unseen ways, supporting you as you traverse your own hero or heroine’s journey during this time of great change. May they serve you in whatever way will sustain you most fully.

If you like these little bits I will share more in future.

I am told my handwriting is often difficult to read, so I have added a translation below each image. All typos and misspellings are absolutely mine alone. 🙂

Each of the pages from my journal except for the one with the poem above (written by the extraordinary Kim Stafford, former poet laureate of Oregon), is down-loadable as a pdf – just click on the photo itself. They are messy, imperfect and have flaws – just like being human. Just like this messy and glorious Life.