I am gaining strength, slowly. Slowly dormant parts of my body awaken. Each awakening an unraveling of memories to process. I am brave every time I get on my mat. I remind myself to show up just as I am, where I am. Lucky to have teachers and friends who remind me of gentleness and worthiness when I am not able to bring those things forth on my own.
A flower bud is the precursor to new growth, part of the blooming process. Most buds form at the end of summer or in the fall. They remain small and close to the plant with a protective covering. In the spring when sap begins to flow, the bud begins to swell/expand/grow. Much like a cocoon where a new form emerges after a period of time.
Thinking about the mercy given to me by my soul sister just the other night…
Down in the dumps, the hill seems so steep.
I am tired and thirsty and grumpy.
Sometimes it seems there is no way I can take another step.
But I reach for your hand and you hold me.
You whisper softly “Not every day will be this hard. You will get through tonight”
You sound convinced.
I believe you.
Sometimes you need someone to be convinced for you.
all the love,
I was upset and anxious, then I meditated. It was a guided meditation on wanting. One of the prompts asked us to distinguish between what our mind wanted and what our heart wanted. And so I took the practice a step further and applied it to my situation.
What did my mind say? Lots of chatter. Lots of this and that and if.
What did my heart say? Curiosity about what was happening, genuine interest, honest questions.
From now on I hope I can remember to sit quietly and hear the full story of what I have to say. All of what I have to say: head and heart. Neither more important than the other just experts at two different things.
all the love,
A merging of talents
A collection of reasons and passions
A coming together
Full of big dreams big causes
Exciting, surprising and shocking
Still from the multichannel video installation Everything sunbright created by Neha Choksi for “Made in L.A. 2018” the 4th iteration of the Hammer’s biennial exhibition. #MadeInLA2018
“Sometimes I pray using other peoples’ words. Sometimes I pray in silence. Sometimes prayer feels to me like the last resort, an act of throwing up my hands and saying, ‘You take over now!’ Sometimes it feels like a cry of hunger or thirst.”
“The only thing we can really ask for when we pray is the ability to trust in that greater purpose. We pray to have our hearts opened and our purpose revealed. We pray for gratitude when our life is good and for faith when it is not so good. We pray to trust that our pain is a gift with “a very, very specific purpose.”
-Elizabeth Lesser, A Guide to Prayer
I’ve been searching for answers and asking around: what is prayer? You see I just finished listening to Marianne Williamson’s book “A Woman’s Worth.” Recommended to me by my dear friend at just the right moment. I was at a fork in the road one path led to hiding and the other to owning my worth. The title was mere coincidence and just like every coincidence not a coincidence at all. At one point in the book Marianne prescribes daily yoga, meditation and….. prayer. And this is how the search began.
I heard Elizabeth Lesser once say in an interview that our life was a prayer, our every move, our every breath a sacred prayer. This has been with me ever since. I still agree and in this perspective so much more intention is required, so much more attention to the present moment because it is the prayer we are extending to the universe. The energy we are manifesting in our lives. The ripple we are creating in the cosmos.
Yet I know this will not fill the prescription. I know Marianne is referring to conversation. Or at least that is how I have interpreted her prescription because perhaps this is what I need. And perhaps it is time to come back to conversation. To honest grown up loving conversation with God. It will require courage and a lot of introspection and curiosity and facing fears. I think I am ready. Let the conversation begin.
all the love,
A ritual is defined as a prescribed rite. Sometimes we lose sight of the important part: the reason for prescription, the need to be filled. I’ve long known self love and continual self exploration is essential to my well being. Yet have been guilty of thinking the important part is the rite, the steps, the 2pm sharp, the hot water before coffee.
Those things are nice but not of the essence. The ritual (for me, you can sub for yours) is reading, writing, yoga, breathing while whispering “I love you”, looking into strangers eyes. At 2pm or 1am, before or after, do it when you can and not when it isn’t possible.
All the love, Luz
Where, where, where..
Where do you wanna go?
Where do you wanna grow?
Where is a question worth asking..
all the love,
It occurred to me that this is how it goes
Just like that:
One day you are making jokes about trying the menstrual cup and making a bloody mess
One day you think you are being paranoid and make an appointment with your doctor
One day you arrive at said doctors appointment thinking of massages and school pick ups, about work irritations and life frustrations, you walk back to your car for your water bottle before you walk in, you are trying to be healthy
One day you wait for your very handsome doctor who is married to the doctor who took care of your fetuses before they were babies
One day you are laughing as the tall, dark and handsome doctor goes through familiar motions “it’s going to be a little cold” “you’re going to feel a little pressure”
It’s not that cold or that much pressure
But then there is a silence that grabs your attention so you turn to the monitor
“You have a cyst”
“It’s pretty big”
“No dark spots”
The rest goes quick, he tries to feel it
You think of cracking a joke, you think of telling him to feel you up, you consider it might not be appropriate and shut up
A better ultrasound gets scheduled
“No chance it’ll just go away?”
You ask coyly as your mother has taught you to be when you’re about to ask something ridiculous but need to ask anyway
He tries hard to keep you cheery
You send enthusiastic regards to his wife
And just like that life might have changed
It occurs to you that just like that:
People were having breakfast
One day your aunt was okay and then she wasn’t, then it was no breasts and a swollen left arm three times the size of her counterpart
One day she was drinking coffee
Then just like that she was having chemo
It occurs to you that no one gets asked if they’re ready
It occurs to you you’d actually never be ready
It occurs to you seldom people would be ready
Your aunt wasn’t ready
And what do you do?
That’s all that’s left
And hopefully it’s nothing
But still so much has occurred
All the love,
Thirty-three is gone
Thirty-four is here
A whole new year
I learned so much
So much I haven’t
Still no guitar, no regular cooking
Still haven’t framed the pictures
Hanging on the wall
I dream of playing the guitar
Don’t give a shit about cooking
Please God take care of the wall
I got rid of sheets
I got new sheets
Fresh without the scent of old lovers
Without memories of bodies tangled
I didn’t think they lived on the sheets
Until I realized they did
All along…they were…living on my bed
I continue now
I opened my heart
and my heart got broken
It is easier to let go
Than hang onto something that isn’t meant to be
How does one begin again?
I have asked myself this question so many times on so many different occasions.
Every momentous event, every new stage in my children’s development, every birthday, every time I’ve gained weight, every time I stop writing, every new year, every Monday, every beginning of every new month and every Easter season; I ask myself this question.
How do we renew ourselves despite: the pain, the stress, the news, the new aches in our aging bodies, the accumulated pounds, the old wounds in our hearts, the possible dangers for our children, the political climate, climate change, the didn’ts, the fails, the debts, the fill in the blank, the fill in another blank, the I’m sure we missed something else blank. How do we dare to begin again?
I can only fathom to look around me…
April 1, 2018. I take it in.
It is spring…
Days in California have been stunningly beautiful and full of color. We got some rain these past few weeks and hills that were dry turned lush. I was on my usual drive and just like that a hill that was brown and sad is now green and vibrant. It almost seemed like it happened overnight. It took my breath away. I wanted to stop my car but instead I drove as slow as I could without stopping “this is life” I thought “the beauty, the mystery, the glory, the effortlessness, the magic, the growth.”
Celebration of: resurrection, of rising, of faith, of happiness, of celebration, of life, life, life, life again. While I don’t consider myself religious I am in awe of the celebration of Easter and the meanings within this holiday season. Rebirth. Renewal. New time.
Waning Gibbous Moon…
The intermediate cycle of the moon after its been completely illuminated. The moon starts to wane and in this way the cycle begins just after the moons fullest expression.
I return to my observations…
How does one begin again? How do I begin again? Slow and steady like the rain, with an image of the green luscious hill in my brain, believing in love, in rising, in miracles, knowing that cycles will always run their course and start again.
all the love,