There was a time 
when I believed trees were the highest form of life on this little blue planet....
and maybe I still believe it to be true...
I share this little bit of land I live on with a 300 year old Oak...
She is majestic..
it would take 3 of me to reach my arms around her. 
 I can see her from my studio, from the house, from the hill...
She shades my Cretan Labyrinth. 
 She is what I see when I step into it. 

Her north side is covered in cool thick moss but her bark is cracked and scarred...
The cracks are deep,
 like wrinkles in an old woman's skin...
they show the life She has led, 
what she has seen summer after summer.

Sometimes I walk to her just to touch Her, 

to thank Her. 

Sometimes She leans into me, greeting me......

sometimes while leaning back 

I cry for deep reasons and press my face against Her...

sometimes into the soft, 

and sometimes into the hard.

photo of beautiful  Great Grandmother...


I was feeling a little empty today.  
I'm a hermit and I usually enjoy being alone...
but today, I wanted to be distracted,
so I called a friend to see if she could come out and play...
she said she had friends coming up to hike along the river and I could join them...

I'm not good at small talk...not at all.  
So when I found myself alone with the friend,
of a friend, the silence wasn't the comfortable kind.  
After about 5 min. with no words passing between us since we'd already covered 
the mandatory discussion about the mess the world seems to be in...
I put down the stick I was so busily removing the bark from and looked in his eye and smiled. 

He looked in my eyes and blurted out that he was in CA. to clean out his son's apartment.  
That his son had taken his own life.  
No small talk here.  The ground shifted a little beneath me, 
I looked into this man's eyes while he talked about his loss....
his struggle to take in the fact that his beautiful young son didn't want to live in this world.  
He showed me a photo. 
His son who wanted to be a sports doctor smiled out at us. 
He expressed his deep grief that his son had not talked to him,
how maybe if he had something could have been done to stop him.  
He spoke of his guilt at not knowing that his son was in such deep pain. 
My eyes never left his.

I talked about my mothers death
and how she sometimes comes to me in dreams
and how I can often smell her perfume. 
I talked about the twins and how they were only here on this plane for a month
but had had such a big impact on all of us who knew them,
loved them.  

He wondered how he would ever fill the space his son had left..
how he didn't feel that emptiness yet,
but knew it was coming, 
and he feared it would break his heart.  

We talked about this world we live in, 
this journey, how it might all be an illusion but how the feelings are very real.  
We talked about how to disconnect, unplug from the dream.  
We talked about Oneness. 

And when it was time to say good bye we hugged and he whispered, 
 ''thank you for being so present...''
and I thanked him for being such a gift. 
We had been two strangers who connected.  
We had seen each other. 

I looked in his eyes a last time and remembered something 
I read long ago about how if we truly, truly, look into another's eyes
we can't help but see their soul, and experience unconditional love.

When we parted my heart felt bigger, softer,
even though the topic was death,
I felt a deep joy at being given the opportunity to listen deeply
to a fellow traveler, and have him listen deeply to me..

Soul friendship is a way of kindness, of mercy, of mutual vulnerability. A soul friendship is marked by a kind of deeply respectful intimacy and familiarity that our society has all but forgotten....unknown


I think we need more mother love in this world.
I think we need more tears.
More compassion.
When did tears become a sign of weakness?
I want to see a woman become president and stand at the podium and cry...
cleansing tears..let's start new.
I know it's silliness.

I wish that more women, when gaining power, would not become more like men.
There is room for both the feminine and the masculine ........Yin and Yang.
Right now, there aren't enough tears.


“Words are tears that have been written down. 
Tears are words that need to be shed. 
Without them, joy loses all its brilliance and sadness has no end.”

Paulo Coelho

...38 and still asking

Where does that fear come from that locks us in place?
What if today was a beginning and end?
What if we cut those ties that are so tight we have to remind ourselves to breathe?
What if we silenced those voices from within and without 
when they say, 
can't, won't, shouldn't, couldn't?

What if we release the pain that has become a comfort, and a safe place to hide?
What if stepped away from the judgement and disrespect of others?
What if we no longer let another's vision for us keep us from our authentic selves?
What if we stopped self-sabotaging?
What if we put our toxic waste in a box, blessed it, forgave it, tied it up 
tight with string
 and kicked it down the road? 

What if we practiced compassion, empathy?
What if we weren't afraid of tears?
What if we practiced joy?

What if we made room for the inspired?
What if we turned the noise down?
What if stepped away from the path that no longer calls to us?
What if we painted the picture we want to step into?
and stepped into it barefooted?
What if we took 
our long buried dreams out from their hiding place
 and held them to the light?
What if we danced with them?
What if we embraced the gift of them?

What if we believed?
What if we relaxed?
What if today was the day we pulled up the words 
from deep within
and spoke our truth to one and all?
Or just one?

What if we cared?
What if we honored ourselves?
What if we asked for what we need?
What if we reached out to each other in support?  
What if as a tribe we chased away loneliness, and fear, 
and poverty?
What if we embraced our true and loving hearts?
What if we stopped lying?
What if we asked for forgiveness?
What if we forgave?
Not just them, but ourselves.
What if we loved unconditionally? 
Not just us, but them? 

What if we became pilgrims of peace? 

What if we really stepped into life?
What if we chose to live?
What if I did it today?

And what if we don't?

While we were talking about love...
my friend said to me...

''When I love him unconditionally I will be able to leave him...''

I didn't understand what she meant until just the other day...
at least I didn't understand the message in her words for me..

Unconditional love can only be achieved through forgiveness...
without forgiveness for someone we really can't leave them...
we take all the the pain, hurt and slights, 
and fights and fear with us...

Leaving without forgiveness keeps the ties tight...
we don't really leave..we just turn our backs.

Related Posts with Thumbnails