Deep peace of the quiet earth to you. 

January 28, 2019

We are already perfect and we should not only ask for happiness, for completeness, but we should expect it. That's what I'm trying to relearn. I'm trying to remember that every thought makes a difference, whether in healing or in destroying ourselves. I have to believe we can (re)make our reality. 

Monday seems a good place to start.

September 7, 2018

More and more, I like the idea of being carried. Not by an individual, but by time, by nature. And while those may seem like daft concepts--too big, too common--well, all I can say is that I have no other word for it, this flow. I don't think it will always be easy, but I don't think the world, the gods, the universe, nature is out to make it harder on us.

I think we do just fine in that area all on our own. No, I think the world, the universe is out to ease the death-grip with which most of us seem to be clutching our lives, whispering in our ears, "This, right here--is this really all that important?"

July 12, 2018

We forget we have a choice of focus. Yes, we're tired; yes, we work hard. But the tiredness is well-earned, the working hard allows us to feed and clothe ourselves, to rest when we can. Illness means our body is working toward health; restlessness means we're halfway there.

I get it. It's so easy to go negative because it's always, always there--maybe it's a side effect of gravity? But even at our most blissful, our most in-flow, the negative is there--we're just too well-balanced, too much the masters of perspective to let it bother us, to let it pull us down.

But if we can remember those moments--those balanced moments--even if we can't pull ourselves into them, then I think we'll get a window into what it will be like when we finally accept contentment as our natural state.

September 9, 2016

I had two of the greatest English teachers of all time while I was in high school: Mr. Degenhardt and Mr. Mulvey. On the first day of Sophomore English, Mr Degenhardt had written this on the board: "Reality compromises the ideal." 

I sat down in my seat and thought, "Well, shit. That explains everything." That quote stayed up the entire year, and as I looked at it every day, it slowly dawned on me that *this* was why I loved books; *this* was why I loved the roadtrip, but not the packing or the arriving; *this* was why I loved Christmas Eve, but found Christmas too bright, too cloying. 

I don't do so well with reality, and the longer I live, the longer I teach, I think there's a pretty sizable number of us in this tribe. We are the artists who never finish the painting, not because we can't, but because it's just too beautiful to risk finishing. We're the ones whose hearts break when a book ends, but know that there's another, unread, on the shelf, ready to be picked...

August 9, 2016

Perfect, quite frankly, is boring. If perfect were the norm, I'd be out of a job--no yoga to teach, no bodies to massage, to herbs to discuss, no energy to align. 

And while, yes, my livelihood (and that of my fellow body/energy workers out there) is important to me, it's of little interest to you. Not in the greater scheme of this whole holistic wholeness business, anyway. 

So here's the thing: you are insanely amazing--all of your crests and troughs, mistakes and triumphs--all of that stuff is your topography, and topography is infinitely interesting, infinitely discoverable. We are always in the process of learning, of moving, of making connections, of cutting cords. That's how we progress through life--from connection to connection. 

So, if you're shoving yourself into a mold that doesn't fit--a job, a suit, a pair of shoes, a circle of friends, a habit, a hobby, a dietary life choice--then stop. Reevaluate and ask for whom you're making this choice. For...

March 7, 2016

You already know how not to be consumed by your own excess--energy, plans, time... The question is, when will you learn the lesson? Because I'm not sure you'll actually be able to sleep when you're dead. 

 

Just a thought. 

 

 

 

January 22, 2016

I don't need to go on and on about time and its changeable nature. We all know how time can fly in the midst of a good meal, a great conversation, a creative burst of energy. 

 

We also know how it can drag--sitting on the tarmac in a stalled airplane, sitting through a business meeting, etc. 

 

But it's the same time. 

 

So, that's the question. When did you get so focused on clocking your own misery that you ignore the flowy slipstream you can step into at any moment? 

Please reload

ARCHIVE:

Please reload

This Quiet Earth