How do we give wild flight?

February 3rd, 2015

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How do we give wild flight?

There is a part of each of us that is wild. Rough, raw, prone to fury. Uncontained.

This morn reminded me of my wildness. It reminded me of the few places in society we can allow our wildness to live out loud.

Perhaps dancing in your living room. Or running a trail. Attending a music festival. Camping, hiking.

The need of society is for us to conform, to not rock the boat.

But wild is an essential part of our nature. The question is, how do we give wild flight?



Epic Stories, Angry Gods

January 22nd, 2015

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Sometimes the dawn sky tells an epic story, one of angry Gods, blood spilled on thick dark clouds, whispers of light desperate to seep through.  And yet a calm ocean…as if all in the heavens are seething while we go about our lives in untethered and often painful ignorance.

If I were the Gods I might well be seething with frustration at the Humans…our careless ways. How we think nothing of taking from Earth, of throwing away…but where to throw to?…as ‘away’ is occupied by others… of treating each other as objects to be bartered and sold on the flesh markets called work.

And this morning I heard another ever-so-normal story…of the return to work, the pain of that, the yearning to not return to work…our lives so crazy a representation of people doing work that sucks their soul, to keep themselves living a life as defined by our society…

This…we call this innovation, human evolution? To spend the bulk of our days doing work that dims the light from us each day?

And what of our true value? What if we each had the chance to do what was spontaneously arousable from within that did not harm another’s right to liberty?

What if this was the ground upon which humanity was invited to exist?

Sure, a small few would abuse this privilege, but most, after days of idle, would find they needed to do something of value, some form of expression.

In truth this option is already available to most….if but for the artificial constraints of society, education, and world view.

The dawn today was one of heavenly anger. Perhaps it is time more people voiced their anger at being reduced from the fullest expression of their Humanity to a casual and disposable object with a productive life cycle of around 30 years.



The question is…have we the willingness to listen, and the courage to act

January 19th, 2015

 The question is…have we the willingness to listen, and the courage to act

The question is…have we the willingness to listen, and the courage to act

After years of practice of paying attention it is easy now to feel when I am not in clear alignment of mind, body, spirit and my ecosystem surrounding me.

The dissonance may be so very subtle, or as big as a brass band playing on repeat in my head.

Something…just some little thing…is off.

Today it sits with me. This vague, low grade ‘off’ feeling.

It may be that I am avoiding something.

It may be that I am in self sabotage, repeating old and tired patterns that stopped serving me a very long time ago.

It may be that I am picking up signals in my immediate enviro’s….a relationship that needs attending to. Or the emotional, psychological or spiritual pollution of those in my immediate space.

I may be tuning into the greater frequency of the world at large…to the fear, hate, violence, dissatisfaction…or the greed, exploitation, manipulation…
It may be that I have polluted my own body/being with thoughts that stab at healthy cells with their own violence.

Or I might be telling myself stories about something….making assumptions about why xyz has not responded to my call/email/reaching out….filling my being with fakeries, distortions, and illusions.

What ever it is, awareness is key. Noticing allows choice and action.

Do I need to breath out the toxic? Make a call? Get some more information? Speak up? Stop doing something? Start doing something? Set a boundary? Face it?

Our bodies, minds, being…is in constant conversation with us…our personal truth is always available for us…

The question is…have we the willingness to listen, and the courage to act?



Perhaps my rage can be a thing of great beauty?

January 16th, 2015

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Perhaps my rage can be a thing of great beauty?

Perhaps the blood red of the sky was an early indicator of the heat of the day to come. Where strong men fell to the harshness of too much heat.

Nature has a way of reducing us to helplessness. Be it the ocean throwing a temper tantrum, the wind of a hurricane, the chill of cold, or the heat..sucking life and energy…

And all the while nature continues to be so beautiful. Her storms, her fire, her ice cold…

Am I seen for my beauty when I am apoplectic with rage? Withdrawn in a frosty chill? Arching my back in frustration? Is the blood red of my anger a transmission that arc’s across the Universe?

Perhaps if my anger is for greater reasons that the driver who stole my parking spot, the friend who did not comply to my expectation?

Perhaps when I am enraged with how my brothers and sisters treat the Earth, the litter I encounter each day on the beach, our wanton throw away world…perhaps then my anger is a beautiful thing.



On being home

January 7th, 2015

On being home

On being home

I am blessed to live where I do.

Home is such a rich word….four simple letters that in their unique combination speak of ground, earth, place, space, relationship, community, rest, nourish, peace, joy, love, birth, death, celebration, shelter…..

I could not imagine not loving your home..be that the place you inhabit, the community in which you live or the country in which you live.

A whole section of life energy is taken care of when we have found our home. There is no longer lost, or far from, or isolated, or unsettled.

There is home. Here. Now.



On hope, New Years, and absolute yes’s

January 2nd, 2015

On hope, New Years, and absolute yes's

January 1st

Rather than stay up to see the fireworks I like to get up early to greet the sun on the first day of the new year.

It is the busiest early morning on the beach, with hundreds of people lingering from the night before, and a few, like me, inspired to get up early to see the dawn.

There is something about the New Year that brings hope. Hope is such an important ingredient to the human condition.

While it takes us out of present time, it provides brightness of the future. Like the sun, which we know is so far away, hope lights a path for us. It provides us with a blank canvas and the opportunity to begin again.

Without hope despair can debilitate and immobilise.The moment there is a possibility of hope some part of us finds the vibration of life, no matter how faint.

The New Year is our cultural permission point to end the old and start anew. Of course we all have the sovereignty to allow ourselves a new beginning in any moment. But as a collective, to start anew invites more promise. We are all collectively granted this moment of reprieve. To wash away the old…to step forward into the new.

Many of us simply continue as before. Expecting a different outcome. Leaving the New Year to fate.

Of course it is always a combination of both. The things we can change and the things we cannot.
And many of us make resolutions but build them on a foundation of quicksand. They are wishes rather than desires.

This year my change is internal. It is about inviting, allowing and accepting more of what I desire into my life. In so doing, I need to say no to what I do not desire. There is a complete recalibration of my inner world.

I know it will happen as every fibre of my being is aligned. And without every fibre of your being aligned and resolute, change will never stick.

Or as a good friend counseled me, “Say no to everything unless it is an absolute yes.”

All the years before this I have built my proposed changes on quicksand. This year, finally, there is a foundation that goes very deep. That depth is chartered through pain and suffering…the path most of us have to take to finally arrive at “Enough, no more!”

On this day, January 1st, choose wisely the changes you seek to experience in your life. Rather than many, make it one. Have it be the one that calls you from the depths of your soul. The one that allows you to be more of your whole self. Then back it with every fibre of your being.

And each morning, continue to say yes to this, even when it tests you, which it will..…and continue to bring it into the light. This is the hope of your New Year.

And my hope for you is the clarity, resilience and self care to take it all the way…



A more miraculous world

December 23rd, 2014

A more miraculous world

A more miraculous world

I have so many people to thank for their extraordinary acts of generosity this year. Last year I felt my life was bereft of miracles. I wanted to to be the person who experienced many miracles as a normal part of living.

And so it was this year.

I am not sure if this was because I opened myself to miracles, or because the larger play of time, kairos time, was involved, or because I began to notice the beauty and abundance in small things…

Or maybe it was all of this. Being open, kairos timing and noticing…

From the very early part of the year miracles flowed. The more I relaxed into receiving and letting go of my agenda the more they flowed.
Almost always they came completely out of left field, knocking the stuffing out of my meagre expectations, knee capping me to a place of such humility.

Generally they came from surprising people.

I realised that to be open to miracles you cannot be attached to where they might come from, and who might deliver them. You simply have to open. And then receive them with gratitude, humility and grace.

They may not have the exact form and shape you expected, nor may they lead you to the place you hoped.

But they will lead you to a more miraculous world.



I love that age brings you closer to kindness, if you choose to say yes to life.

December 22nd, 2014

“I am no longer quite sure what the question is but I do know the answer is Yes.” Leonard Bernstein  Yes to life. To choosing life. To taking that step. To asking for help. To reaching out to help another.  These last few days in the rush to Christmas, Trevor, the petrol pump attendant (yes, they still exist), asked me about my Christmas. I then asked him about his.  “Oh, it will be just me and the dog. It has not been the same since my mother died. We will drive around for a bit, and look for a place to eat. McDonalds is always open.” He seemed quite happy with this arrangement. His dog’s name is Scoobie  I felt blessed to have the life I do. And touched by Trevor and his simple measure of happiness.  On Sunday at the beach a girl was wandering around in her party attire, looking completely distressed. “Are you Ok?” I asked. “Yes” she replied…”I am looking for my friends. Thank you for asking.”  And then a man sitting on the bench at the beach having a very charged conversation with an invisible friend.   In my earlier years I mostly ignored/avoided these types of people and conversations. They threatened me in some way. I think they surfaced the very possibility that my safe little world of privilege was only a second away from being shattered…and to see the need in others was too close to the bone of my own insecurity and needs.  But I know this space well now. I know I can be possessed by madness…I have found myself having more than one conversation with myself, usually in a self flagellating way.  I have been far from home at Christmas time and grateful to strangers for welcoming me into their family celebrations.  And I have found myself many times alone, seeking my friends, terrified about how I will make the next step…feeling isolated…yet actually discovering that in that very act of vulnerability I had extraordinary support…but for the asking. And often for the unasked giving of strangers.  I love that age brings you closer to kindness, if you choose to say yes to life.

I love that age brings you closer to kindness, if you choose to say yes to life.

 

“I am no longer quite sure what the question is but I do know the answer is Yes.” Leonard Bernstein

Yes to life. To choosing life. To taking that step. To asking for help. To reaching out to help another.

These last few days in the rush to Christmas, Trevor, the petrol pump attendant (yes, they still exist), asked me about my Christmas. I then asked him about his.

“Oh, it will be just me and the dog. It has not been the same since my mother died. We will drive around for a bit, and look for a place to eat. McDonalds is always open.” He seemed quite happy with this arrangement. His dog’s name is Scoobie

I felt blessed to have the life I do. And touched by Trevor and his simple measure of happiness.

On Sunday at the beach a girl was wandering around in her party attire, looking completely distressed. “Are you Ok?” I asked. “Yes” she replied…”I am looking for my friends. Thank you for asking.”

And then a man sitting on the bench at the beach having a very charged conversation with an invisible friend.

In my earlier years I mostly ignored/avoided these types of people and conversations. They threatened me in some way. I think they surfaced the very possibility that my safe little world of privilege was only a second away from being shattered…and to see the need in others was too close to the bone of my own insecurity and needs.

But I know this space well now. I know I can be possessed by madness…I have found myself having more than one conversation with myself, usually in a self flagellating way.

I have been far from home at Christmas time and grateful to strangers for welcoming me into their family celebrations.

And I have found myself many times alone, seeking my friends, terrified about how I will make the next step…feeling isolated…yet actually discovering that in that very act of vulnerability I had extraordinary support…but for the asking. And often for the unasked giving of strangers.

I love that age brings you closer to kindness, if you choose to say yes to life.

 



A series of beautiful moments

December 18th, 2014

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A series of beautiful moments

Life is a series of moments. On this morn this moment lasted but minutes. The pinks suddenly were there…and then gone, swallowed by endless greys.

And a few hours later, after my run, sitting in my artisan coffee shop looking out across the Pacific, another moment. The wonderfully skilled barista, Tim, also an artist and musician, fetched his ukulele from his car, and sang “Silent Night” to the two of us who were present.

Listening to an unknown artist play, one holds their breath, willing and wanting them to be good…to be really good. Slightly nervous that perhaps they will not be, and that awkwardness will be present, the need to fumble through some less than sincere platitudes.

Not today. A glorious voice from someone who knows his gift and has comfort in the song.

What a gift. It was so spontaneously given. So generous. And it changed my day.

The other witness, also a regular customer, and I became co-conspirators in an extra-ordinary event. And with that we connected, as perhaps we would never have before.

Beauty does that. Bringing strangers together over the shared experience.

These moments, precious. The privilege was I got to live them.