Posts Tagged: Coming home

Hitting Refresh

Have you ever wished you’d come equipped with an Auto Refresh button? If I had one, I’d use it today. Where was I before the weekend? Oh, right. There. A place to start on Monday morning. A place to Begin Within. This is the time of year when Things come up. Things to prepare for. Things to complete. Friends and family, too. Their things. All of those things we call life with others, life of community.

I’m one of those people who needs to stop and listen to my own directions before I can go into the world and do my thing.

Simply dropping in to a deeper level of connection with my own needs, wants, and inner promptings can be….well, a little more difficult than hitting Reset. There are days I’d give anything for a little curvy upward arrow that I could click and magically reset my screen, putting me back in the loop of my own deeper thinking/knowing.


I just arrived home from a trip Over the River and Through the Woods to a mountain cabin. The way there was a bit treacherous, but once there the scene was a holiday card in 3D. Heaps of soft snow and stillness. Fine powder drifting aimlessly through the starry night sky. A wood stove to feed and long nights of dreaming.

A much-needed respite from my usual busy life (and mind to match).

On the way back we came face to face with a snow plow and needed to move over perilously close to a ditch. Our wheels began to spin as we struggled to get traction once again.

The very thing that had cleared our way nudged us into a little stuck place.

Tolerating Peace

I’m learning to tolerate peace. I’m shocked as I see myself writing that, which takes me right out of peace. You see, my identity is so wrapped up in being a Peacemaker that it’s a Giant Step to admit that peace very often in my inner life has often been missing.

I’ve been a Peacenik my entire adult life. My credentials are impeccable. I became an anti-war activist when I discovered the realities of the Vietnam war. I organized an anti-nuke installation using little tree-farming cones to demonstrate insane levels of nuclear warheads in the early 80’s.

Returning Home to My Wise Body

I just spent more than a week at the Oregon coast, a place I usually feel instantly at home. Being on the ocean simply returns me to source. It’s a short cut for me.

So when I decided to go there to get started on a book I’ve been wanting to write, I expected a vacation. It was a vacation, all right. I vacated my body and moved right into my head. The mental work of framing my ideas and beginning such a large project had me set up housekeeping in the world of the mind, which happens to be what I was writing about. I got a good start on the book, but I’ve had a series of headaches from the mental strain. Not an accident, I think.

“If you lived in your heart you’d be home now.”

This is my newest favorite bumper sticker. It says in so few words what I often take longer to articulate.
I’m in the midst of a radical home remodel now. My home is a haven for me, under normal circumstances, and the intention of the project is to make it MORE of a haven. Or maybe a heaven. But in the meantime….it’s feeling more like a hell, with pounding and sawing while I’m living and seeing clients in the Oasis. They seem to feel it as an oasis from their lives, but I’ve been having some trouble experiencing that.

The Cafe at the End of the Search

I’ve spent a whole lot of my life in a search for truth, beauty, goodness, The Way. Much of what has motivated me has been from that deep longing that propels each of us to connect with the sacred in life.

No regrets. But lately I’ve been thinking of calling off the search. Because it feels like peace. (What better reason would there be?) When I’m craving something to eat, drink or do that will fill a hole, I’m usually believing that my current state isn’t okay.

Married to Amazement: Geneen Roth Retreat

“When it’s over, I want to say: all my life
I was a bride married to amazement.
I was the bridegroom, taking the world into my arms.”

These lines by poet Mary Oliver were a theme threading through the retreat with Geneen Roth. Although I’d read the poem many times before, it was a qualitatively different experience to sit with the words, to drop into deep amazement. This morning the state that they invoke feels like the biggest “takeaway” from the event.

From a place of amazement I drop into deep curiosity about what my unique body and self are doing here in this life.

From Boil to Simmer: Retreat Re-entry

As most of my friends and clients know, I just attended a retreat with Geneen Roth, author Women, Food, And God, a book enthusiastically embraced by Oprah on her show last Wednesday, resulting in a #1 best-selling listing.
There is much to share.
And I will, right here, in the next few weeks.
I attended because I just knew I was supposed to, that I was ready really find out what I need to know about my relationship with food AND with Sacred Self. I wanted to accelerate my learning by giving time and attention. I wanted to “discover in a short time what might take months or years to learn.” (Geneen’s words)

From Full Sun to Full Moon

This last month I disappeared from life as I typically know it to celebrate a big anniversary with my husband across the planet and South a little.  We just returned from Bali, Indonesia, a couple of days ago, and I’m still waiting for all my brain cells to arrive.

I spent Thanksgiving feasting on babek (Balinese duck, which takes 24 hours to prepare) and American-style turkey with Balinese and American friends.  I missed Black Friday, but Saturday was pretty blacked out on planes airports.  This year holiday mania hasn’t seized me yet, and I hope to keep it that way.

I’ll be sharing more about my ongoing involvements in Bali in the coming days, but now I feel compelled to notice this dramatic transition.  From full sun and saturating warmth to full moon and winter chill.

There’s beauty in both. As much as I love summer, the dramatic change from fall to winter nurtures my inner oasis and the longing of my introvert to be finally heard. So moving from vivid color and full sun to the nuanced shadows of full moon reflects perfectly my soul’s longing.

As much as I savored the magic of Bali (and I do mean magic.), it feels right to return to this deepening season of moving within.  More than right.  As the days shorten and the nights lengthen, there is such deep peace in finding the whisperings of inner direction during this season of preparation and longing.

How about you?  What is your longing?  What are your hopes?  This is the season to go deep and discover what you find. Let it incubate or share it with others, right here or elsewhere in your world.

“Return to Home Base!”

How do you return to home base in your world? It never occurred to me to ask myself this question until last week. Playing laser tag.  Seriously.

I’ve spent the last month away from the wet winter of my homeland here in Oregon. I decided to leave the travel blogging to others and to simply absorb the colores and sabores (colors and flavors) of the small colonial city I just visited.  I walked and simply marveled at beauty, color, and hospitality. My heart expanded when I noticed each kindness, from taxi drivers to expatriates.

The first day I was home a friend had a laser tag birthday party.   I have a general policy of trying anything that doesn’t have obvious addictive properties at least once.  So I went.  I can’t say that I ever mastered the strategies that others seemed to automatically grok, like who to avoid and who to hit.   But I heard one phrase again and again: Return to Home Base! In the game, this signal indicates that you’ve taken all the allowable hits or used up your stored power. Every time I heard the little box on my belly telling me to return to home base,  I kept thinking that there was nothing I’d rather do.  I started loving the simplicity of this game.  You give others your power and get depleted.  Then you hear a voice that tells you to return to Home Base.  Such simplicity.

So once the party was over I followed the directions.  I returned to my base for some serious re-charging.  It’s taken a little longer than in laser tag,  where a laser beam magically lights up your center.  But I notice that it’s the ultimate kindness I’m extending to myself to slow it down, gaze at the wall. Sleep. Return to yoga classes, walk in the mist, pet the dog.  Home. Home base.