366

large.jpg
A year ago today, we woke early and made coffee. We watched men put our things into a truck. We packed our tiny car with what we needed for 6 weeks, we stuffed the dogs in there too.

I remember driving away, whispering farewells to the house we’d called home, to the neighbours we’d called friends, to my favourite tree down my favourite street. When we left the familiar city boundaries, we turned the volume up and sang our sorrow into excitement and bubbly beginnings.

It’s been 365 sleeps (366 to be exact, since it was a leap year), and just as many emotions. Exhilarating days discovering our neighbourhood, our city, and days missing the comfort of the known. There’s still so much we haven’t done or seen, still so much to hold our attention.

I miss the forest and the river steps away from our front door. I miss the wisdom of the wind singing harmonies with the leaves.

But the trees in Montreal are approachable. They’ve been around people so much, they know exactly what to do with us.

And living in French has rekindled a part of me that had been forgotten.

So… here’s to another orbit around the sun.
Here’s to newness and challenge and discovery.
Here’s to transforming a house into a home, acquaintances into friendships.
Here’s to roots breaking through cement.

55c2a5f4314a553f08e8eeaa821a9b3d.jpg

(top photo from wehearit.com , bottom from jetpac.com)

Advertisements

i, cedar.

my face pressed deeply into her bark,
cheek and lips distorted.
her surface is softness and jagged edges.
underneath, she bleeds red.
(like we do)
i’m surrounded by people…
for a moment in time,
completely alone.
entwined.
branches growing instead of toes.
leaves in place of teeth.
sinew forced out by seed.
i smell of sap and musk and earth,
of pepper and dampness and moss.
her woody arms wrap around me.
she whispers sweetness,
heart to heart.
when there is gratitude,
she says,
the universe is limitless in her abundance.

tumblr_meztka0MCc1rull4vo1_400

sourced here

Roaring Waters

4232319679_eb513404d9

The water is roaring. The riverbed can’t hold her in. She’s rushing… flooding… running… trickling way past her usual edges. Like a delirious child, madly colouring outside the lines. Her container is no longer suitable. It’s too constricted. But here’s the beauty – she doesn’t try to fit into it. She just builds a new one.

I put one foot in front of the other. I can’t tell if my hair is made of snakes. I’m not sure if that’s the sound of my heart, or the wild thumping of the core of the earth. And I don’t want to know. My skin feels soft and loose, yet I’m bursting at the seams. There is rage, and power, and excitement. There is magic, unbridled joy, and the deepest trust in all the things. There is mourning also. Sadness. Disappointment. Fear, trying to hold me back. But the current is tenacious; it’s way too strong now. My vessel is too small. It’s time to build a new one…

tumblr_o4m5v9Yqlx1txfen3o1_500

Inhale, exhale

enhanced-12976-1406888884-1

Inhalation, exhalation.
Bridges and rubble. Tall spiraling staircases and the after-math of bombings. Light so bright it hurts my eyes and dark, moldy, terrifying corners.

Transformation. Death and birth and death and birth and birth and death again. The full moon is in Taurus. Remember to remember, they say. Let that shit go, they say.
It’s the last super-moon of the year. Harness that creativity, they say.

Tap in or tap out. And it feels like chaos.
Inspiration, expiration.
Inhale, exhale.

It’s a whirlwind of destruction. It’s a fertilizing, a readying for the planting, a preparing to receive. Brush the dry skin off. There is beauty in the particles floating in the sunlight…and it is skin – old, dry, decomposing debris. I’ve got one foot (and perhaps half of the other) out the door. I’ve got two hands hanging onto the windowsill, trying to pull myself back in. I can hear the pitter-patter, I can hear the thump-thump-thumping, I can hear the unbridled-almost-ferocious-roaring of my heart.

Inspire, expire.
Space and sweetness. And gasping too. And just a hint of fear. Fear is good, they say. It keeps you moving forward. Fear is bad, they say. It freezes you in your tracks.

And then there are the trees, breathing and reaching, simultaneously shedding and quieting and getting ready to sleep. Earth and metal. Salts and ores and quiet streams. Water so powerful it’s about to break the dam.

Don’t you dare hold back, they say. Be wild and true. Create a container, they say. It’s not polite to be who you are.
Inhalation, exhalation.
Inspiration, expiration.
This room is too cramped. The walls are too tall.
tumblr_mgioixA41c1qitxhxo1_1280

(top photo by Christopher McKenney, bottom one here)

Love’s Year

The moon will show herself one last time this year. She begs me to do the same, calling my name in that sweet soul-whisper only she and I can hear. It is a hushed riddle she requires me to answer before opening the door to the unmistakable truth. She only uses it to beckon me when I’ve been hiding too long. She’s quick to remind me it’s been a while.

Don’t worry, sweet one, she murmurs. We’ll wait for you if we need to, and we’ll love you voraciously all the same. But it’s been long enough now.

I can hear the indisputable thump-thump-thumping of my heart… or is it hers? There is no difference, 491ef5df644db602d3142dd48662a3acI feel, but I cannot know for sure. There is an unambiguous anxiety that builds as the clock tick-tocks it’s way to a new calendar. The moon has orchestrated a mesmerizing rhythm of waves crashing over each other like the days of the past year, muddled and messy and powerful; and this cold, salty air pleads me to look back as though it carries all of my secrets, disappointments and revelations. I can feel it right down to my marrow. I’ve been stretched in a way that cannot be unstretched. I’ve learned things impossible to unlearn. I know it is a good thing – it’s been a formidable few months. I’ve taken giant steps only to (momentarily) fall back tenfold. I’ve brushed myself off and seen the ferocious beauty of my universe-sized soul only to hold a mirror up to where I’ve conveniently been hiding a small speck of darkness. More, always more, she urged of me. Each time, managing to force me into deeper knowing, added forgiveness, and continually expanding grace. So now this head of mine begs for some spacious silence, a patch of warm ground to rest on for a while, a few spotless moments to piece together the puzzle of sagacious wisdom gained and not yet fully understood.

I will draw a bath in these last hours of the year. The salts will leach the worries out of my precious bones, one by one. The water will soak away the impossible expectations I’ve come to have of myself. I will replace them all with lists of laugher and smiles and sweetness past. As the hourglass drops her last grains of sand, I will set the unresolution to just be. I will deepen all of my cracks and wrinkles until they become grooves, prayers that hold an infinite capacity for love. I will meet your eyes with unconditional softness and trust that you will do the same for me.
tumblr_n6kmm0qJOj1tcrg58o1_500

The Universe Inside Our Heart

tumblr_mri6t5UPXF1sy911xo1_500
We sat in a circle.
Ten souls new to each other,
As old as the world.
The tears of the world flooded our eyes and our mouths.
We became a conduit for the suffering, and in turn,
The healing of the earth.
We sat in the darkness,
The rain challenging us to step up to the task.
And they came
By the thousands, they came
Checking us out,
Wanting to be a part of the conversation.
We let them in.
We held each other through the storm.
We lifted the curtains and
Entered beyond the veils.
We tasted immense beauty
And knew that our love was not enough
We can always (always!) love more.
So we sat with ourselves and each other.
We struggled with feeling alone and small.
We marvelled at our bigness.
We became immeasurable.
And we knew.
Beyond words, we understood.
It is our darkness that allows the light.
It is our light that stirs us to the knowing.
The entire universe is inside our heart.

We don’t know how lovely we are.
tumblr_myl2vcQWjt1sr22dlo1_500

Meet Me Where the Light Rushes In

images

Hide yourself from the world.
Wade for a time in the
Murkiest corners of your soul.
Sit in the squalor of your own disgrace.
Know what it is to embody voracious
Greed, ignorance, intolerance.
See yourself reflected in
The eyes of a murderer,
In the hands of a pedophile,
In the mind of a terrorist.

Trust deeply that it is from the
Dregs of your own decay
That the blossom is born.
Accept that,
For you to be only love,
In the heart of your heart,
You must also have tasted disgust.
Acknowledge that wisdom
Can only be birthed out of sadness.
Believe that, within you,
There is a harmony
Of light and dark,
A symphony of sentiments
That allow you to feel fully,
To live with fervor,
To be.

And know.
Fully understand.
Your love is the heart of the universe.
Your fire is the soul of the world.
Your truth is a reflection of the cosmos.
Your muck and your beauty,
A mirror of us all.

Sit with me in the dark of the dark
Meet me where the light rushes in.

images-1