When you own your own story, you get to write the ending.
I don’t pretend to know all of what is happening in this life, what is burbling just below the surface, but I have a strong sense of it. I believe in the infinite mystery and order that means everything is unfolding as it should and, ultimately, all will be okay.
I’m inspired by the rise of the sun each day, the weight of the ocean, the wisdom of the forest and the cycle of the seasons. I’m inspired by people who wake up, their hearts full of gratitude, the people who know to hold on when they contend with darkness and throw their arms and hearts open when they are connected with the deep well of love that is the universe.
It’s slowness and simplicity that excite me this winter. I am drawn to shed complications. I require that my nervous system be at rest. I recall reading a famous chef say “I refuse to eat anything that doesn’t taste good.” Likewise, I strive to nourish my spirit with what feels good, a practice humans seemed to move away from really early in our evolution, and not just due to necessity. Communal by nature, at some point we began to place more emphasis on the external message. We forgot to take notice of what is happening internally and we lost the ability to listen for our internal guidance. We lost the generational teaching of how to listen to ourselves and so many other things. We lost the wisdom that survived thousands of years, the knowledge that transcends time and place, and we are suffering for it. Thankfully, we can recover. We can remember. It is intentional and conscious action that strengthens our connection to what is most important. It is a knowing of when to let go and what to hold onto. It is the practice of being in profound stillness and quiet that we aren’t really used to anymore. It’s glorious and restful and exhilarating and excruciating all at the same time. But it’s important. Because just under the surface is the good stuff, the really soul satisfying part of life that also reveals just how much more there is to reach out for. As much and as far as you can imagine, all of it just waiting.