feel the grass under your toes. no feel it, really, truly truly — set your phone aside, walk outside a moment til you find some green, however near or far it may be, take your shoes off. wiggle your toes in the grass. let your heart be a kid again. the earth is warm, she’s holding her warmth out for your uncertain toes and heart. it’s my own heart’s prayer, it’s a prayer for you, a prayer for all of us that with time we’ll make peace with the earth mother gave us to stand on, even in the heavy midst of the unclarity that wraps our hearts. be gentle with your heart when it asks for patience. your heart knows the way home, be still and listen. don’t forget to garden your heart today, dear, gently, gently please. these wildflowers, your favorite wildflowers that line this fogged mountain path have always been yarrow long before you ever knew their name, waiting gently to mend your bleeding broken feet. chase bravely and boldly what mends your heart softer and your mind stronger. that is healing, i think. follow what mends your heart softer, your mind stronger — it is hope too. no one has a heart and mind like yours. we need you for it. let your heart be brave, quiet, afraid and hopeful all at once. it will all be ok, dear. all, all, all all. the earth still holds you, she always has and always will. let her hold you. breathe, breathe. breathe. you are so deeply loved. close your eyes, feel the changes of the breeze on your face. the sun still rises, and even the densest fog can’t hold that light back forever. be gentle, let the dust in your heart settle. your home is nearer than you know.
whole-soul /
there’s a life chosen boldly and forthrightly on these mountains and these cliffs and these bluffs, walking their sparse trees that from here aren’t more than pale green dots — every evening setting life aside a moment to slow and breathe and watch the sun blaze through the valleys and their trees that, from there, aren’t more than pale green dots. gentle and free, wild & so fierce in small but careful and the closest of company, walking those trees. fought for, sweat for, bled for, cried for — I won’t stop til that same sun sets blaze to my heart that sets blaze to the valleys and skies, I won’t stop til that same wild wind that weathers and wisens those sparse gnarled trees teaches me her wisdom too. we’ll sweat our days climbing and fighting our way upward, upward upward upward upward upward always upward opening our chests raw to the deepest blue sky and sleeping wrapped warm in the arms of bitter nights more vibrant by starlight than the day at noon because we know the stifled air and greyed polluted skies of the valley floor will not CANnot satisfy. we’ll keep climbing, boldly gentle and ruthlessly free, upward toward truth at all costs, upward always toward hope and mending and wholeness, upward always toward a no-half-assery, forever aflame, whole-soul life.
nothing but a whole-soul life.
anew /
every morning (sure as the sunrise) we’ll gently reorient our hearts, as best we know toward the best we know.
gossamer balance /
a strange beauty that dawn and dusk sometimes, for a moment, feel the same. an uncertain & quiet moment lost somewhere between light and dark— a place where, gently, gratitude for yesterday and hope for tomorrow are held in the same hand.
oceans /
your overcast days, do you see the earth is holding you wrapped in her arms? the moon through the night, stars when there is no moon, and the rain on your face in that cold cold night, most intimate of all when even the stars are lost— with every drop our Mother’s crying with you, every drop on your face saying she was never so far all along.
warm fires and hot soups are nothing til cold long northern nights, warm hearts hold us so much deeper when we’ve known the world’s bitterness, gentle arms to hold us become so much more grateful a home in our storms. your dark cold storms and bitter nights are bringing you home, dears, even when the stars can’t shine yet. even when you can’t see which way this ruthless storm blows your small boat that feels so frail in winds like this. we’re on our way home, we’re all on our way home, searching, finding home where we can, building and mending the best we know how, quietly praying.
there is warmth, there has always been warmth, dears, it has always been there for you and it always will be. warmth and home, home, warmth. we’ll chase those with all that we have, to find them to our hearts and to knit warm home for loved ones— loveds and dearly loveds and strangers, (friends we’ve never met,) friends on their way home too still out in storms and hurting for shelter. be kind to your heart please, dears. and hold it so gently to your heart when someone trusts you with theirs. people are so precious. this life is, so truly, precious.