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Wednesday, November 5, 2014

Primordial Soup- Journey to Aravaipa

Caterpillar soup, she said
Dark night of the soul, Medicine woman,
Priestess, Goddess, Serpent,
Listen, Listen. 
Grandmothers swirling
Listen, Listen.
Mariposa vine, butterfly, sacred Mother,
Listen, Listen.
Daughter, breasts milkfull, sits on top of 
full moon, holding child to her bosom,
water, wolf medicine, serpent
Listen, Listen.  

Lodge, holding us, 
in its heat, sound swells up like
heartbeat, close in
we beat together,
release together
pray together
Making offerings through
melodic voices, 
chant, yell, whoop, howl, let go, 
make new.

Circle at fire, arms to the heavens, 
listen to heartsong.
Listen, Listen. 
holding hands, we try to send 
our otherworldly guest to her celestial 
In the quiet of the night, 
we wash each other's hands
with salt
symbolizing we are all the same,

Journeying, I am given salt, 
milk, flour, Grandmother wipes hands on apron,
Hair tied up in braids,
and I am given a yellow apron the next day by 
my yellow-haired pie-sister.

Sisters, we travel
to this magical land 
and make it even more sacred
with our ceremony, 
our communion, 
prayers, gifts, love, 
offerings. Mountain watches over 
each day and night, 
soundly, quietly
while river rushes by, washing away any 
remnants we no longer need.

Each of us stands
taller now, 
more in our own power.
(Stand in your power, Woman)
Listen, Listen
As we return back from where we came
not one the same 
as when we started
the Journey.

Gratitude swells, 
Listen, Listen. 

Friday, September 19, 2014


I am crumbling
So let me crumble.
That which I was
trying to be was
never going to be enough.
I have stepped into the
fire and I am
at the well
asking for just one
of water.

I have walked to the tree as many times
as I can handle
blowing my whistle.
Eagle cry--
I spread my eagle arms
to the Great Mystery
and I ask to take
one drink.
One rest.
One step.
I know that what I need now
is rest.

I know that I push myself too hard
in the wrong directions.
I am done with the pushing.
I am finished
belaboring the point.
I stand at your sacred feet
and let your waterfall love
wash over my face.

I cup my hands under your
sacred spring
and let the fresh life-giving
liquid spill onto me.

I Surrender.
I Surrender.
I Surrender.

Say it three times and
it might become true

A magic spell.
I am already enough,
Dear Spirit,
Let my sacred compassion
fill my cup now.

Let me, Great mystery,
recognize the parts of me that
are you,
that are enough,
Let my Self well up
with an eternal spring
of joy and love
Free from self-recrimination.
Let me see that I am.
That I am.
That I am.
I am you.

Let me see the truth of who I am.
Let me be washed free
and the anchor let loose,
falling down to the 
bottomless depths.

Let me lift up to join you,
sacred union.
Let me be free of fear
and free of the parts of me
that hold on too tightly.
Let me trust love now.  


Thursday, September 18, 2014


The golden-haired girl and the singing children

Matteo said they would guide me to the next step.
Hair like Lyra, I imagine, long and flaxen,

But what if it’s not that way at all? What if she
is not a child,
or what if my inner child

I had long golden locks when I was small.
And what of the singing children?

Could there be something as simple
as Sesame Street
“Sunny Days,
Everything’s A-OK.”

And this curandera
could be Darcey. Could be
the doula
who will help me birth this next thing

I don’t have to solve anything
because it is already written.
Just play.

And know that you are being welcomed
into the dream world now.

Know that. You
no longer have to fight
in the mad world.

A letter to the Great Mystery

Let me be not afraid
Even though everything I have known
is falling away.
Let me not regret the choices I have made.
Let me remain conscious
that I had good reasons
for making them.

Let me stay mindful
in my next steps.
And let me not be afraid to walk up ladders
even when I feel that I am kicking down
with every step.

Let me be aware, Dear Spirit,
that I am following my guides
through the dark forest
and I will soon come to the place
where the ancestors meet.

Let me stride up and take my place at the table.

Dear Spirit, I know that I
have nothing to fear.
I see your kind hands, inviting me into my future.
And like a caring, confident mama bird,
You have tossed me out of the nest.
I will not tumble, Great One.
I will fly.

Wednesday, September 3, 2014

The call

Even though I am in pain
I still love myself deeply and unconditionally.
Even though I have hurt someone 
I still love myself.

Spirit hear my call.
I know I have done things which
are unforgivable in someone's eyes. 
But I forgive myself.
Spirit, here, 
my call. 

I am in a deep awe of your presence

in my each day.
Even though I am in pain, 
I forgive myself. 

Spirit, hear my call. 
I love my
Spirit. Please help me to forgive. 
Hear. My call. 

Tuesday, August 26, 2014

Intention (number one)

I will make time for breaks today.
I will stare out the window and attend to plants and flowers.
I will go to yoga
I will do a run at the gym, or run in the desert, or just move my body in lots of creative ways.

I will take care of me before the needs of others.
So it is.


Sunday, August 24, 2014

The Amazon tarot

I drew three tarot cards before bed last night.
Asked them what I should do about us.
I got Ixtara, Kali, and Kwan Yin.
Ixtara told me that I was a healer and that I should
continue my practice
something was healed in me or someone else
by my immediate past situation.

Well, yes.

Kali said that "it's time to move on."
Couldn't get much clearer.

Kwan Yin said I should have
compassion for myself, and others,
for the mistakes of the past,
and keep compassion as I move into the future.

I think of surrender
Look across the vast white expanse of my bed
and think of what it feels like to sleep alone.
I thought I would hate it but it feels better.
I'm able to stretch out and pull the covers around me
and wear my lavender eye-pillow and relax.
I am alone anyway.
Why can't I cut the cord?

My soft white nightgown is my flag-
I wave it,

Try not to think of the mid-term I have to take today
Think instead of the price of rocks-
Which is to be the name of my novel, if I ever finish it.
I realized the other day that I need to write it now
("She has a book inside her and it needs to get out")
not wait until conditions are perfect
because they never will be
but these words will keep bubbling inside me
creating unsafe conditions
if I don't put them down on the pavement and
let the cars roll over them, smoothing them into
something. If not perfect, at least born.

This thing does not have to be born already
fully grown, it just needs to be allowed to be
borne into existence. Labored
and pushed out of me.

What if I was fired and given six months severance
and could just sit and write my novel?
What if I could focus on nothing but writing and
the ocean, being alone to think my words out
instead of having to jot them on napkins while
passing between classes
and work and picking up the kids from school,
transporting them to football practice
and paying for college?
What if I just dropped out of school again,
to 'become a writer?'

What if I just allowed myself to write it
into the cracks between all of the rest of
the stuff? What if it was getting written right now?