In service of deepening our awareness of the moments that remind us of life’s fragility and wonder … if you feel called, please check out my new blog:

May all beings find peace in their hearts, light where they stand, and showers of unexpected blessings. Aho ❤

In gratitude,

A piece I wrote was published recently on Elephant Journal! So excited about the opportunity to spread a message that, I’ve learned, is one with which so many people connect. I’ve received such beautiful messages of love and support that have offered much validation and much-needed contact as we move out of the season of transformation and into one of rebirth. April’s song sounds again in my soul and I couldn’t be more ready to dance to its tune.

Check it out here! Thanks for reading.

Happy spring, y’all 😀

Comfort Zone

Breathe, smile, get up, get moving, play & repeat… 🙂

Because I’ve had a cold the past few days and my right brain has been a bit foggy, articulation and word flow isn’t coming easily, and this poem can stand alone… just as we all can with a little bit of self-love 🙂 🙂 🙂  {it’s also relevant to some topics I hope to expand on later — the term “making a living” and how it represents something so different and toxic than that of what it means at face value — truly LIVING… making our lives count, living in gratitude, in love, in hope, in the practice of happiness, in a quest for peace, for freedom, for enlightenment… as opposed to living for money/making money/working to sustain a certain quality of life; planets squaring my moon (and all things astrology-related); the word “YES”! More to come as soon as I’m feeling a bit more on point.}

… Be well! ❤

The Invitation
It doesn’t interest me
what you do for a living.
I want to know
what you ache for
and if you dare to dream
of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me
how old you are.
I want to know
if you will risk
looking like a fool
for love
for your dream
for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me
what planets are
squaring your moon…
I want to know
if you have touched
the centre of your own sorrow
if you have been opened
by life’s betrayals
or have become shrivelled and closed
from fear of further pain.

I want to know
if you can sit with pain
mine or your own
without moving to hide it
or fade it
or fix it.

I want to know
if you can be with joy
mine or your own
if you can dance with wildness
and let the ecstasy fill you
to the tips of your fingers and toes
without cautioning us
to be careful
to be realistic
to remember the limitations
of being human.

It doesn’t interest me
if the story you are telling me
is true.
I want to know if you can
disappoint another
to be true to yourself.
If you can bear
the accusation of betrayal
and not betray your own soul.
If you can be faithless
and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty
even when it is not pretty
every day.
And if you can source your own life
from its presence.

I want to know
if you can live with failure
yours and mine
and still stand at the edge of the lake
and shout to the silver of the full moon,

It doesn’t interest me
to know where you live
or how much money you have.
I want to know if you can get up
after the night of grief and despair
weary and bruised to the bone
and do what needs to be done
to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me
who you know
or how you came to be here.
I want to know if you will stand
in the centre of the fire
with me
and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me
where or what or with whom
you have studied.
I want to know
what sustains you
from the inside
when all else falls away.

I want to know
if you can be alone
with yourself
and if you truly like
the company you keep
in the empty moments.
By: Oriah Mountain Dreamer

When I’m asked if I’ve ever been in love, my immediate reaction is to say yes. I say that I have been in love four times: I’ve been in four serious relationships, so it would follow that I was in love with each of these four people during at least a part of the span of time in which they occupied a role in my life. Ugh, rules. {When I set out to write about this, I wanted to focus on the notion of falling in love with the idea of a person as opposed to who that person truly is when the facade breaks down, when the exterior is stripped away, when you see through to a person’s core. At some point in between the moment I experienced the initial spark of inspiration and its residual molding of a vision and the time that I sat down to type this, I came to a new understanding: I don’t know how common it is, for someone to truly know another’s being, or true essence, or soul… or how many strive to know this in another… but my own experience with it has been that I’ve only seen pieces of each of the people I’ve been in relationships with. I’ve seen what I wanted to see, and I fell in love with the image of the being who those pieces helped to construct. This realization isn’t at all connected to whatever feelings I used to so fully experience, though, because even if I was in love with the idea of each of these people rather than who they were behind a veil, my understanding of who they were upheld my perception of the truth; whether or not I was in love with an idea or the ‘actuality’ of a person is of little consequence: Our perception creates our reality. That being said, I’m taking a direction different from what I originally set out for. That’s pretty typical for me, though, and seeing it manifested through this post is serving as an awesome, humbling reminder of what a waste of time it is to make a plan. Unless, of course, I wish to make one specifically so that I will find a different path… because this is how typical it is for me to take a route different than one that I plan (and is why I don’t make plans.) Sort of a practice in the realm of reverse psychology.} It’s quite the trip, when I think back on each of these relationships and the partners with whom I shared them; my idea of love, the meaning I associate to the word ‘love’, my dream of love… it’s so much more colorful now, its complexion clearer, its shades more brilliant.

These four very different relationships – each of them sequential in nature and purpose, occurring just when I most needed the lessons they would bestow upon me – helped to shape the dream of love I have today: what being in love feels like, looks like, how it presents itself, how it feels when it passes through my lips: its sound and taste and ability to fill me. My dream’s canvas shows me what love might feel like when I move with it, dance with it, the pace at which I allow myself to melt into it. Each of my past partners fulfilled the dream of love that I held during the period that they were in my life. After each of these relationships ended, my perspective on love would shift slightly, evolving ever so beautifully. I now see the humble change that was pulsing forward just below the surface of my awareness: my innate yet subconscious practice of eliminating from my growing dream whatever traits in that partner that didn’t serve me; the ones that didn’t contribute to my most positive evolution, my feelings of uninhibited happiness and a growing inner peace… those didn’t come with me along my journey. And thus, they didn’t come with me into my next relationship (easier said than done, sometimes, I know. The universe has been good to me, though, bringing the people into my life who will make a resonating impact at the times when I am most able to make decisions which allow that impact to eventually and so fully manifest in my understanding… and I am so, so grateful.) Today, my dream of love is much more complex than it’s ever been but when I envision it in HD [thanks, 2012], its vibrancy and fullness is apparent and its colors pulsate like they’re alive… because they are.

A part of me resists relationships today. The fear I experience is based on the knowledge that I’m still evolving… and with my evolution grows the effervescence of the dream. My fear lies within the ego-based notions that I’ll either begin the long-winded and intimate, complex journey into another being and not like what I might eventually discover there, or that I won’t find someone who meets me today and whose own path will move along in the same direction and at the same pace as my own. I suppose that knowing just which direction I am headed and at what pace is for the future to decide [and the shape and scope of all of our paths are very much cultivated and advanced by those with whom we share space.] I try to remember that to be concerned with the business of the future takes away from living in the moment of now. I look to my dream of love for help in silencing my chattering mind and its senseless worries: my dream has no room for fear… its colors are too busy dancing to the beat of the moving earth, swirling and pooling with their sisters and brothers in an embrace that shames rainbows (and rainbows are not easily shamed), laughing with the force of the sun, breathing in and out with the tides, living within the ebb and flow of the cycle of the moon. This is the choice that my dream makes… in its aliveness, this is the picture it paints. These colors exemplify the beauty of their experience and are so rich because they, like me, have been to the other places that have led me to today. Their hues glitter with all of its possibility.

She lit a burner on the stove and offered me a pipe
‘I thought you’d never say hello,’ she said
‘You look like the silent type’
Then she opened up a book of poems
And handed it to me
Written by an Italian poet
From the thirteenth century
And every one of them words rang true
And glowed like burning coal
Pouring off of every page
Like it was written in my soul from me to you

Today, I am grateful for the ability to hear and embrace song, and for my body that enables me to dance. I am grateful for the perpetual universal guidance and its knowing.

I am grateful for the chance I have at a life limited only by that which I allow to bind me, grateful for chains because they can be broken, grateful for YOU, who meets my light with your own.

I hope to expand on this [quote below] later, but for now am trying to get back into a habit of a daily writing process… this blog will help me to manifest that endeavor. Even if it’s just a quote that speaks to me in a moment, I think that typing it here might help me to get back into a pattern that I know will serve my evolution of thought, and also my need and penchant for completing word puzzles… and I believe that more and more expansion on simplistic entries will follow from my adopting this daily routine. I actually loathe the word ‘routine’, unless it’s in reference to something that will serve the evolution of a passion. Word[s].
For now…
This post was inspired by and hinges upon this beautiful summation:

“Thought is a wave appearing in consciousness.” (Gangaji) {While I have no idea, at this time, who Gangaji is, I will give him credit for his words. Being, though, that we are each a part of all that is, this thought (and these words derived from this thought) presented itself in the wave of consciousness… and that is of our one collective consciousness. So maybe noting the speaker of a quote isn’t always relevant to its importance or its effect. Or maybe I’m only saying that because, as far as I know, no one has ever plagiarized my work. Yikes.} This is like a puzzle within a puzzle, and I’m finding that typing this out is, in itself, helping me to re-adapt to the solving of the word puzzles, and the dissection and compartmentalization of the intricacies of each wave of thought I experience. Awesomeness.

Sometimes you recognize yourself unable to conceptualize how life could possibly get any more beautiful… and then you make cookies with a two year old in an open, breezy kitchen in a house nestled up in the mountains while Railroad Earth plays on surround sound.

Checking in with the cyber world and with myself. I’m trying to get back into the habit of writing (blogging) more often, because when I’m deep in the throws of the chitter chatter of my mind, I’ve found that putting a lot of it down in writing, right here on this blog, truly helps me to make sense of all it; to divide it into categories, to shelve the things that matter least and to prioritize and face what is real and true and mold it into something a little less… noisy.

With that being said:

I’m making some big changes, the most tangible being a move down to the city. Mountain life has offered me a great deal of peace in the time since I’ve lived here (about nine months) but it’s also caused me a lot of strife and inner chaos because in the back of my mind is this little voice (well, not always so little to be quite honest) that’s just screamed at me, sometimes drowning out all other thought, that I’m missing something. In hindsight, I needed this time to reflect on much of what I’m doing. Why I’m doing it, or why I’m not. To reflect on the choices I’ve made that have brought me here, those which have led me to this place in my life and to this headspace. But I’m over all of the analyzing and sitting with myself and this intentioned solitary quest for clarity, because I’ve looked and I’ve looked and I know I’ve found something because I’m sitting here today making the decision to leave this place. And that decision is based on a catalyst… and catalysts only exist because we know what we want, and also what we don’t. It’s time for me to gather up all of the fruit from this experience {am I creating a metaphor from an image I get when I think of the word ‘fruitful’? Because that word is flashing in neon letters on repeat through my mind right now so I need to use it somehow. And I like fruit.} and throw it all in a sack and sling it over my shoulder and get a move on. I promise to carry that fruit with me, though, and if you like fruit I’ll share some with you. Might wait for it to ripen a bit more, but I have a feeling this move will cause it to do so quite quickly… because fruit has a way of doing that.

I’m not fearful anymore, not hesitant to experience what might elicit a good deal of pain… because at least it’s something, and that’s more than I can say about what’s happening right now, while I sit here. I’ve sat here long enough, I’ve waited long enough. I’m done waiting. Done observing. Ready to jump into it, swim around a bit. I’m not afraid to sink, because I’ll float to the surface again soon enough… a nice thing about life is that we experience a lot, and the more we experience, the less and less afraid we become about experiencing new things because the longer we live, the more confident we become that we’ll continue on. The more able and proficient we become in gathering what serves us and allowing it to grow and the more recognizant we become of the things that do no longer. We learn that negativity always dissipates, that things always get better, that experiences tend to pile on top of each other and allow us to create something that’s more than just a quiescent existence for ourselves: mine is built on ripened fruit and reminders to sink or swim and other literary devices and real life circumstances contextualized by a daily ebb and flow.


I feel something for these mountains, something strong and powerful but tender and good and I know I will return, but now is the time to leave for a bit… and I’m confident that when I return, it will be with something better. Something I don’t need to cling to, or hide behind, or make excuses because of.

I’m letting go of all of that for now, and I’m taking a leap. Or in my case, a trip down this canyon. Because while the future is always unknown, one thing is true: it is there.

Spring is here… the season of rebirth, renewal, reawakening. Time to begin anew. I will remember this winter and feel grateful for it, not regretful.  Hold it close as a reminder of what was… allow it to become a catalyst. Because I’m over this lack of energy I’ve experienced for months now, over being tired. Over feeling unable [or unwilling] to devote myself to finding the answer to the question I ask myself each morning: Why am I here?

The time is now.

Spring has reminded me that everything is fleeting: the darkness is temporary, but so is this morning’s sunshine. So today, I am creating the change I’ve ached for all winter long. I am inspiring movement within and around my being. I have chosen to put myself first: to regard the signs as they present themselves to me, to accept their meaning, to stifle a hunger for endeavor no longer.

I’m making a choice: I’m pressing ‘play’ and indulging in the chance for something truly sensational.


The grass is not, in fact, always greener on the other side of the fence. Fences have nothing to do with it. The grass is greenest where it is watered. When crossing over fences, carry water with you and tend the grass wherever you may be. (Robert Fulghum)