Majda has taught me about the sacred and the sacrifice. Driving up to a mountain retreat, the Harvest Moon nestled into the valleys between the peaks like an exclamation point, we wrestled with conceptions around time, space, and our own bodies.
When I hear the word compassion, my first thoughts dance around the act of offering it: offering someone compassion. There's always an object, a recipient of the compassionate act. And how rare it is that I am the object of my own compassion . . .
I observed Natalie, watching a hafla afterparty in full swing. She'd just performed, and her kohl-rimmed eyes were still blazing, framed by a large feathered headdress.
What prevents me from being creative? Why do I struggle so mightily-- usually with the voices in my own head-- over naming myself creative?
A hug from Jaia is a thing of wonder. She waits, listens, heart-to-heart, until your breathing begins to synchronize. She invites you to be present in the moment, with another human being, with yourself.
You may think of me as someone who has her shit together. Corporate job. Amazing marriage. World travel. Oodles of time to create. t may surprise you to learn how much I struggle from day to day and breath to breath...
Brandy and I met during a Donna Mejia workshop, and it was her honesty-- her raw, unformed questions about what we were learning-- that entranced me. It was her divine cackle that left me draped over my steering wheel, wiping away laugh-tears. It's probably simplest to say that Brandy brings joy into my life.
When I lay all seven Touchstones out, side-by-side, Circle is smack-dab in the center. In an ideal world, we would be able to have our shit figured out before we sit in Circle, and yet we wake up there, messy, in media res.
When I was a girl, all the pockets would simply rip out of my clothes because I was always stuffing them full of rocks. Odd-shaped rocks. Olivine. Quartz. Shiny bits of mica. Pahoehoe lava with ropy, iridescent swirls.
I honestly don't know what I'd do without the friendship of these women, who have comforted me, left me wheezing from laughter, and educated me on the proper way to insert a zipper into a dress.