20 September 2016
I'm back on the east coast for a few weeks before I head west again. My time in Chicago flew by - lost in the studio - in stillness. It wasn't the trip I thought it would be it allowed the slowness - space - silence that I needed for opening up for what will come next. One of my last days in Chicago I took a studio break and drove north to a prairie grove.
Lately, I have really wanted a house - a place of my own - a sanctuary. I want to stay in a place and learn all it's details and secrets. Despite my want it just isn't the time. I'm living out of my backpack and will be for a little while. I walked alone through the prairie grove in the buzzing chorus of crickets and the rustling grasses and realized what a honor it is to be there and see the colors of fall in the prairie. To have seen so many seasons in so many places. It's time to stop waiting or dreaming or yearning for something that isn't here. It's time to find gratitude in the stillness and truth of what I have right now. To accept it's enough and it's what I need.
Oh the beautiful colors of the prairie!!!
15 September 2016
I was just reading Mark Nepo this morning, he was talking about stories - our stories. We all have stories to tell inside of us. We need to tell stories - over and over and over again. We need to tell them until we can understand them. It's only when we understand them can we let them go.
I haven't been making anything in the studio for the past few months. I was going to the studio but finding a big brick wall every time. I wasn't making anything, just starting and stopping - over and over again. I felt frustrated and emotional - the studio is my space to unload/recharge/root myself amongst all this movement and transition. It wasn't until Tuesday morning I decided to change my mindset, instead of going in with several pieces designed I was going to try to make just one pair of earrings - no expectations - no judgement - no bigger plan, just one pair. I made a pair of earrings. It felt so good. It gave me another idea so I made another pair of earrings. Just like that I was making again - slowly - less productive. I was allowing one idea to build organically onto another idea. It wasn't until yesterday and really this morning after readying Nepo that I was reminded, I make jewelry to tell my story. I just haven't known what story I wanted to tell - what story I needed to tell.
I'm back in the studio making jewelry, differently but I'm still telling my story over and over and over again until I understand it. When I understand it I'll release the story and find another story I need to tell thru my jewelry.
We are all storytellers.
How do you tell your stories?? I'd love to hear.
09 September 2016
It feels like such a long time since I've left/given anything to this space.
I'm still here.
I've been moving/traveling/exploring and living out of a backpack for over a month. I had to move out of my apartment and then couched hopped until I took a trip home to Washington state. It had been a year since I had gone "home" and it was just as beautiful as I remember. It felt so good to know the land of Washington, to not look up something on google maps. I spent the majority of the time at the lake, a beautiful lake where I spent every summer growing up. It felt so nourishing to swim, sunbath, read and talk endless while you float in the crisp water.
I'm still here.
I went back to the East Coast for a week and now I'm in the Midwest - trying to "figure out" what's next - trying to be present here in someone else's home with only a few belongings of my own. I was telling my sister the other days I just don't feel grounded enough in myself to figure out what to do next...how do I make a decision from this place? Then this morning I read Mark Nepo and as also in perfect time,
"Two scientist traveled halfway around the world to ask a Hindu sage what he thought about their theories. When they arrived, he kindly brought them into his garden and poured them tea. Though the two small cups were full, the sage kept pouring. Tea kept overflowing and the scientists politely but awkwardly said, "Your holiness. the cups can hold no more." The sage stopped pouring and said, "your minds are like cups. You know too much. Empty your minds and come back. Then we'll talk.""
-Leroy Little Bear,
The Book of Awakening
Mark Nepo went on to say
"If at times you feel numb or distanced from the essence of what you know, perhaps your mind, like the sage's teacup, is too full. Perhaps, like a bowl too full of fish, your deepest thoughts have no room to move. Perhaps we all need from time to time to dump out all that doesn't stick."
And I realized maybe this journey of moving from west to east to midwest, living out of a small backpack is the process of dumping out all that doesn't stick. It's uncomfortable but something good is coming. Something good is here. I've never been where I am right now and I need open spaces to see it. I have to let go of what I've been holding onto to be able to grow in the ways that I need to - moving into the future. Maybe this is the Universe blowing through me.
Life is SO powerful and challenging and I'm forever grateful to be a student of it's lessons.
17 August 2016
I've been reading The Book of Awakening by Mark Nepo everyday (so good!!) and something from yesterday's entry really spoke to me, it said "only rarely have I let go completely, yet those moment of total surrender have throughly changed my life." "When lonely and afraid to reach out, I have somehow collapsed repeatedly into the ocean of another's love, and it cleansed my weary heart." I found those words to hold such a beautiful vulnerability, to "collapse repeatedly into the ocean of another's love" I thought about how rare it is for me let go enough to collapse into another's love.
I started thinking about why I keep it all in.
I started thinking about all the things I've learned - absorbed!
The quietness that I have claimed - the weakness - the obedience - the fear.
I realized that in order to collapse into the ocean of another's love I have to choose myself! I have to start saying I know what is best - that I know what I need - that I deserve all the goodness that is before me. TO CHOOSE myself! TO RESIDE inside myself with a deep rootedness. TO STOP choosing fear.
I went to Walden Pond yesterday and swan and read and sunbathed and then walked around the pond. I've been going on walks lately trying to pay attention more - observe/absorb. Every time I find so much beauty in the decaying tress - the gaping bark - the hollow trunks - to see the cycle of life/death/regeneration/repurpose - the flow of life in such a tangible way.
07 August 2016
I love Maine in summertime. I've only been a handful of times but I fell in the love the first time I went last year. There's this energy of Maine that is so intriguing to me - it's secretive and undiscovered nature. The towns are so quiet, the houses are so old, the summer season is so short, the roads are two-lanes and so windy. You can't go anywhere fast - even with no traffic. No one minds, they just drive slower or boat there or walk there or bike there or canoe there - everyone is exploring. I wonder if it's because the summer is so short or just the type of people that call Maine home but everyone is out - connecting to the land of Maine.
I went to a new place this year - a small town named Richmond, just north of Portland. We took a right off the highway and drove for a longtime on a two-laned road I was wondering if this is the right way then a few houses with big lots started to appear and then one gas station with a fried chicken fast food and Dunkin Donuts in it, this must be it. It's funny in these rural town how the gas stations can be all-in-one town centers. We drove a little more and there it appeared, the adorable downtown of Richmond. It's just about two blocks long right on the railroad tracks with a bakery, post office, library, ice cream shop and restaurant. Most of the buildings are from the 1800s, I always wonder how these little towns keep running? What's it like in winter? Life is slow here and I don't image much changes. Maine seems to give me so many questions. The end of downtown stops right at the banks of the Kennebec river and the boat loading dock. Our camp site was on Swan Island so we had to canoe over since the ferry (small boat) stopped running at 3pm that day. It was dusk and the mosquitos were coming out in hordes. We eased into the murky river and paddled against the current. We paddled across the river to hang close to the edge of Swan island right along the edge of the swaying freshwater grass.
The Kennebec river is fascinating with the current getting pulled and pushed by the ocean's tide, the water levels can change by several feet during the day and makes for an interesting plant life, it looks almost marsh-like in places with the entire Swan Island bordered by freshwater grasses.
It was dark at this point and I was wondered as we were curving around the east side of the island if we would be able to see the boat dock for the campsite. With the darkness and current it took us about 45 mins but we found it. The night sky was so dark and no one was in the camping area except for us, we were greeted by that deep deep silence of Maine. There is such healing/peaceful powers in that deep deep silence. We slept under the bright blanket of stars and woke up to the hot summer sun. I haven't felt the rhythms of the life without buildings - highways - lights for so long - it felt so good.
Swan Island was inhabited several times between the 1700s-late 1800s until the land was ultimately bought by the State of Maine in the early 1900s so it has many houses on it still from the different owners and settlements. We read the histories of the people that once lived on Swan Island - the first family of settlers that were captured by the Abenaki Indians and sold as slaves across the border in Canada. The next wave logging the land leading wide open meadows on the island. Another wave of settlers serving off of selling ice from the Kennebec River until refrigeration became a household things. With not many resources people didn't stay long on the Island but their houses are still there today as a reminder of their stories.
We hiked and canoed and even swan in the murky dark waters of the Kennebec - SUMMER. I hope you are exploring your lands and reading histories and seeking dark night skies and feeling that deep deep silence.
27 July 2016
I found this quote in an old notebook yesterday, "Try to do everything in the world with a mind that lets go. If you let go a little you will have a little peace. If you let go a lot you will have a lot of peace. If you let go completely, you will know complete peace and freedom. Your struggles with the world will have come to an end." Achaean Chah
I'm almost all packed up at my place. I don't usually stay any one place too long but I've been living in this house for over a year and a half! I'm moving out this weekend and I think it might feel strange to not sleep in this room - not in a way that I'll miss it but in the comfort of being able to bike home with my eyes closed, a feeling I haven't had in a long time. When transitions come I get nervous right before the movement happens - that last minute doubt - hold on to something feeling. I'm moving out and going to be nomadic again for another 6 or so weeks. I'm ready to live somewhere but also, I need to remind myself that I know how to do this - how to float and live out of a backpack - find inspiration in the lightness. To take this open door and embrace it knowing that I'm moving towards something I've never had before, a rootedness but for the next little bit I'm open and free! To make having fun a priority - to let go a lot or completely.
What is this summer bring for you?
20 July 2016
I had a visit from an old lesson yesterday - I was mad and frustrated to meet again. To realize I have to try again - try harder - try differently. I have to learn my patterns. To realize that I (have and still) am going to travel this road over and over again until it teaches me all I need to digest it - to release it.
Yesterday I realized the pattern (lesson) and saw how holding onto the guilt of expectation - of not voicing my needs breaks down my flow and disconnects myself from reality. I was so annoyed at myself for being in this situation, being able to see in the moment the clear (disconnected) steps I took to reach this very place. Then I remembered what a friend who does body work recently told me, we have to feel it to heal it. Yes!
Last night was the full moon in capricorn bring up these under unresolved issues. Mystic mamma said "the Full Moon’s promise is that if you can fess up to reality and see what hides in the darkness, you’ll have a better chance of conjuring up a strategy to overcome it."
We have to go thru - not around to get where we are going. We feel it.
That moment of stagnant energy.
That moment of guilt.
That moment of not being true to ourselves - only lead us where we need to go.
To see these moments as the beautiful (uncomfortable) truths that we are alive and learning (unlearning) ourselves over and over again. Be kind to yourself.