
Fortitude is born of persistence and patience….
The steadfastness to stay the course,
and acceptance as it all unfolds,
no matter how messy it gets.

Fortitude is born of persistence and patience….
The steadfastness to stay the course,
and acceptance as it all unfolds,
no matter how messy it gets.

I stop to touch the tree trunk as I walk by.
My nose perceives the sweetness of bright white clusters of flowers on the horizon and the moistness of the ground beneath me.
I watch as stillness and movement come and go.
I sense the invisible currents of the air
that bring me sounds,
some familiar and many more curious.
This is the work of being on this earth.
Not leaving memories,
but making them.

Take time to rest.
Time to feel.
And time to heal.
In this moment there is nothing more important than
the next breath.
Feel me sitting right there next to you,
in the center of your softly beating heart,
exchanging a wink and a smile, surrounded by light,
knowing that we have loved
and are loved so dearly.

Let it all flow…
Hot and messy
like a volcano.
Root down and rise up,
Stop your feet,
Get low to the ground.
Burst with great force,
triumphantly,
unapologetically,
into the sky
Release the big
and scary
and frustrating.
Shake like a wet dog when you feel stuck or over burdened.
Curl inward and rest until you remember your power.
You are magnificent.
You
are
magnificent.

When I peel away the stories,
When I release the plans I made,
When I drop into this very moment,
I see and feel so clearly
The peace,
The grace,
The love,
And the joy
At the core of my being.
I know this as the truth.
This mountain could not have been built of anything less.
This mountain I now climb provides the vantage point from which I launch into my unboundedness.

I am so powerful that I can command my own suffering to inform change.
I am so creative that I can find solutions to the underlying mysteries of my experiences.
I am so brave that I can step into my full consciousness and awareness with grace.
I am so smart that I can turn to love, kindness, and joy at any moment,
cultivating it within and inspiring it around me,
even in a world focused on being something else.

The air turns cool.
Sound becomes distorted.
Sight goes offline.
Simultaneous smallness and vastness set in.
Swaddled simplicity meets rattled uncertainty.
The compass loses its point of focus,
directionality irrelevant.
Bending and moving through unfamiliar spaces,
offering lessons in courage,
the darkness is only temporary.

In her enormity,
unruliness,
and most unyielding state,
she is soft,
subtle,
clear in her direction,
ever capable of moving,
shifting,
adapting,
aligned,
attuned,
resonate,
in her power
and beauty.
We drink of her,
ride upon her crests,
sink cradled in her stillness,
follow her home,
allow her to absorb our burdens,
as we find peace by her side.
She reflects back to us always
what we need most to see.

The gift of sight is precious.
And the gift of sight quite limiting.
Energy bent,
refracted,
contorted,
to fit the confines of the mind.
Even with eyes closed,
the mind is seeing.
All of it fabricated.
If the image banks once overflowing were purged,
all unseen,
what would remain?
The seer.
The knower behind and beyond the images.
The opportunity to reimagine,
as in dreams,
as in daydreams,
as in reality,
all for the sake of being seen.

The light turns green.
Out of the depot pours the continuous stream of yellow-orange pods.
They move like ants,
single file at first,
jockeying for the lead,
then dispersing.
Like homing pigeons
with seemingly choreographed maneuvers,
they dance across the dashed lines and in between the rows of trees.
They scurry off to their destinations,
one single mission,
primed to transport their precious cargo,
conveyors of potentiality.