The waves crash around me, sucking me under. I cannot breathe. Water fills my eyes my ears my nose my mouth and I scream but there is no one there to hear, just the relentless surf, the pounding waves, taking me farther and farther from the safety of shore. I long for a place to put my feet. A stone. A post. A step. My feet long for firm sand, but all I feel is ceaseless motion, spinning, vertigo. My heart runs red into a pool around me and my throat cries soundless gasping wails. Tears become rivers, oceans, becoming the endless waves that roll over me, crushing me, carrying…

I have been looking for a way back instead of a way forward. I look through the destiny book of awesome and its secrets stay locked within, remaining tightly shut within black walls and creamy pages, mocking me. Remember this? they hiss, When things were magical and all was possibility unfolding in front of you like a golden carpet? I look at the magic and want it so much, the beautiful song. I try to grasp it tightly to hold it to me, but it slides through my fingers. Ahead. That is where I should be looking. But how do we know anything except what is behind us? I replay the…

Five days. 120 hours. 7200 minutes. 432,000 seconds. Every single one sparkles. Bright diamonds dripping from rain-soaked skies. Plans have been made and intentions cast. Five days is enough to create worlds, to transform, to move into the shifting sands of a new perspective. Five days of delicious immersion, of experimentation, of creation, of trying on some What Comes Next. Five. Yes, it’s as if what I have been asking of the universe is appearing. Tangible. Touchable. Taking me places I never knew yet somehow always knew I wanted to go. Today my tangible-touchable and I walked through a neighborhood, moving into and through hypothetical someday worlds. I breathed in…

What is it they say? If you don’t like how you feel, change the way you think. I’ve been in a dry desertland this week, far away from where and how I wanted to be. I have focused on the lack, the missing, of feeling out of sync with my surroundings. It felt wrong, this hard brown world. My eyes and heart are nourished so deeply by the soft greens and blues of my watery forested home. This dry bare place felt alien, foreign, spiky. My heart dried up and blew away with the tumbleweeds. I breathed dust. My brittle bones cracked and broke. I slid into an abyss that…

According to the Mayan calendar, February 10 begins a new 260-day cycle. That’s nine lunar months, folks. Which means that it’s a time ripe for creation, since whatever is begun now will bear fruit at the end of October. I love marking time. Taking note. Taking stock. Tuning in. Setting intent. It feels very much to me that there is yet another beginning coming my way, perhaps not a beginning as such but a mindful intensifying. I am seeing and feeling this on many levels. I feel the future, or some potentials that haven’t happened yet that I interpret as the future, and it feels good to state outwardly what…

There is a sweet spot somewhere and I mean to find it. Not that I haven’t been enjoying the exquisite contrast between hyper-aliveness and the seeming vacuum created when not in that state, but somewhere along that spectrum is a place of balance. I suspect a rhythm may emerge, an expression of the juxtaposition of longing, desire and logistics, but it hasn’t happened yet. It may never, not to my complete satisfaction. Instead I [try to, sometimes grudgingly maybe] content myself with looking for the patterns of rhythm that are already evident. Yes, I have a thing for patterns. And noticing. Yay me. Here’s one: input input input input input…