From my jungle hillside hut, it sounds like the ocean roaring when the monsoon winds blow. I close my eyes and fall through time and space. I'm back in Santa Cruz, at the Pine Street house, where jasmine vines strangled the lattices and all the windows were nailed shut. Wrapped in blankets and curled up on the old yard couch, I would stare at the black sky and points of light, the star clusters and constellations. On those eerily quiet and ultra chilly nights, I could actually hear the ocean roaring.
An oddly nostalgic moment given the turmoil of those times--looking into the stars and feeling both hopeless and hopeful, finding beauty in the untouchable, mysterious cosmos, listening to raw, wild nature.
In a few weeks a new year will roll over. Not just a new year, but a new decade. These man-made mile markers of time. The rhythms of the cosmos are timeless, but here we are.
Since I've returned to Thailand from summer travels, I've celebrated another solar return, took a whirlwind trip to Chiang Mai, and have dug deep into my manuscript. I'd like to say I've been too busy to post, but that would be a lie. I've been asking questions, processing input, and getting lost in the labyrinth of life.
Recently, I turned down an opportunity for more stability here on the island, to obtain a proper long term visa, to teach yoga. I walked a labyrinth in my mind. So tempting, but not my true north. To hold that kind of space for others is not why I'm here. And ultimately, my focus and energy would become too scattered, too diluted.
Not long ago, a seer, a sage of sorts reminded me I was on an expedition--one in which my only responsibility is to never lose sight of Source. Indeed. I cling to these guide posts though I know all too well I don't need them.
When I started this blog 4 years ago, I had no idea the direction it would go. All I knew is that it would be a place for outer and inner exploration. Questions would arise out of life experiences and I would explore them. Each post, a bit like a mini labyrinth. Unlike a maze, a labyrinth has no forking paths or impasses. The questioner winds and meanders, but ultimately, you will be led back to where you started--hopefully, a bit wiser.
Here's how it works:
You walk into a labyrinth with a question. You walk out with an answer. Sometimes the answer has nothing to do with the question. Sometimes you walk out with more questions. One time I forgot the question I asked and just kept walking, grass under my feet, stars in the sky, the whole universe inside of me.
And so, one foot in front of the other with mindfulness and purpose, I walk this life in a labyrinth. And much like those ultra chilly nights in Santa Cruz when I could hear the ocean roaring from my backyard, I lean into the beauty and mystery of the cosmos. I listen.
Why not step into 2020 like a labyrinth? What are you most curious about? What questions would you like to ask and explore? Why not tumble into the mystery and see where it leads you through the year?
An oddly nostalgic moment given the turmoil of those times--looking into the stars and feeling both hopeless and hopeful, finding beauty in the untouchable, mysterious cosmos, listening to raw, wild nature.
In a few weeks a new year will roll over. Not just a new year, but a new decade. These man-made mile markers of time. The rhythms of the cosmos are timeless, but here we are.
Since I've returned to Thailand from summer travels, I've celebrated another solar return, took a whirlwind trip to Chiang Mai, and have dug deep into my manuscript. I'd like to say I've been too busy to post, but that would be a lie. I've been asking questions, processing input, and getting lost in the labyrinth of life.
Recently, I turned down an opportunity for more stability here on the island, to obtain a proper long term visa, to teach yoga. I walked a labyrinth in my mind. So tempting, but not my true north. To hold that kind of space for others is not why I'm here. And ultimately, my focus and energy would become too scattered, too diluted.
Not long ago, a seer, a sage of sorts reminded me I was on an expedition--one in which my only responsibility is to never lose sight of Source. Indeed. I cling to these guide posts though I know all too well I don't need them.
When I started this blog 4 years ago, I had no idea the direction it would go. All I knew is that it would be a place for outer and inner exploration. Questions would arise out of life experiences and I would explore them. Each post, a bit like a mini labyrinth. Unlike a maze, a labyrinth has no forking paths or impasses. The questioner winds and meanders, but ultimately, you will be led back to where you started--hopefully, a bit wiser.
Here's how it works:
You walk into a labyrinth with a question. You walk out with an answer. Sometimes the answer has nothing to do with the question. Sometimes you walk out with more questions. One time I forgot the question I asked and just kept walking, grass under my feet, stars in the sky, the whole universe inside of me.
And so, one foot in front of the other with mindfulness and purpose, I walk this life in a labyrinth. And much like those ultra chilly nights in Santa Cruz when I could hear the ocean roaring from my backyard, I lean into the beauty and mystery of the cosmos. I listen.
Why not step into 2020 like a labyrinth? What are you most curious about? What questions would you like to ask and explore? Why not tumble into the mystery and see where it leads you through the year?
