Yesterday, I was doing something simple - Walking during a work day to get a frozen yogurt. Suddenly, there was a moment when the universe opened up in a way, I’m quite sure I haven’t experienced before. It happened in a instant, unexpected, in what can only be described as pure bliss. It was a sliver of perfection and joy that flowed into and out from, my entire being; radiating from my heart.
I was hurriedly walking back to my office, eating my yogurt, when my pace suddenly slowed way down. The warmth of the sun flooded me, the taste of the yogurt exploded through my senses, and I stopped walking. It was as though I was the only person in the world. Cars passed and people walked by, but in that moment, there was only me, being caressed and blanketed by the warmth of the sun and the street exploding with color. Sounds quieted - and I simply stopped.
It was a flash - a portal, and in that brief second, I looked up toward the sky and in my head, I heard, “On my dying day, I will remember the cold, sweet, taste of this yogurt, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the sense of aliveness that I feel right now. Thank you.” Minutes after the epiphany, I literally took my first steps, back into the world.

Yesterday, I was doing something simple - Walking during a work day to get a frozen yogurt. Suddenly, there was a moment when the universe opened up in a way, I’m quite sure I haven’t experienced before. It happened in a instant, unexpected, in what can only be described as pure bliss. It was a sliver of perfection and joy that flowed into and out from, my entire being; radiating from my heart.

I was hurriedly walking back to my office, eating my yogurt, when my pace suddenly slowed way down. The warmth of the sun flooded me, the taste of the yogurt exploded through my senses, and I stopped walking. It was as though I was the only person in the world. Cars passed and people walked by, but in that moment, there was only me, being caressed and blanketed by the warmth of the sun and the street exploding with color. Sounds quieted - and I simply stopped.

It was a flash - a portal, and in that brief second, I looked up toward the sky and in my head, I heard, “On my dying day, I will remember the cold, sweet, taste of this yogurt, the warmth of the sun on my skin, and the sense of aliveness that I feel right now. Thank you.” Minutes after the epiphany, I literally took my first steps, back into the world.

It’s a sweltering summer day - hot as hell - but suddenly, I can feel fall coming. It’s buried deep below the heat. I feel the shift to the season that has the most profound effect on me. It’s a flash and in that moment, on every level, most pronounced, on a physical level, I can feel the first subtle changes inside the movement of time.
Fall is my season. That time of renewal. For many, spring speaks of renewal and rebirth, but for me, fall is that time of moving inward. Summer has us opening outward. Minimal clothing with moist damp skin glistening and breathing in the beauty of summer, hot weather, time in the outdoors, and the place where we give ourselves permission to slow down. Summer’s gifts are external.  Sights, sounds, smells - a tactile time.
Even now, in the heat of the last days of July, I can feel the call of fall underneath it all.  It’s not impatient, nor does it take attention away from presence - no projections into the future - no kidnapping of the dog days. What calls me, is a deepening sense of the internal movement to go inside, to the hallowed space at another level of being. I don’t long for fall, but I savor the moment when my awareness heightens as it nears. I hear the whisper of fall’s voice.
I am more primal than I would have once believed -  tuned into the energies of the seasons and and the earth. As I get older, there is a powerful alignment with the natural world;  a vibration straight to my body and soul that sweeps me along with elemental ancient rhythms and cycles.

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It’s a sweltering summer day - hot as hell - but suddenly, I can feel fall coming. It’s buried deep below the heat. I feel the shift to the season that has the most profound effect on me. It’s a flash and in that moment, on every level, most pronounced, on a physical level, I can feel the first subtle changes inside the movement of time.

Fall is my season. That time of renewal. For many, spring speaks of renewal and rebirth, but for me, fall is that time of moving inward. Summer has us opening outward. Minimal clothing with moist damp skin glistening and breathing in the beauty of summer, hot weather, time in the outdoors, and the place where we give ourselves permission to slow down. Summer’s gifts are external.  Sights, sounds, smells - a tactile time.

Even now, in the heat of the last days of July, I can feel the call of fall underneath it all.  It’s not impatient, nor does it take attention away from presence - no projections into the future - no kidnapping of the dog days. What calls me, is a deepening sense of the internal movement to go inside, to the hallowed space at another level of being. I don’t long for fall, but I savor the moment when my awareness heightens as it nears. I hear the whisper of fall’s voice.

I am more primal than I would have once believed -  tuned into the energies of the seasons and and the earth. As I get older, there is a powerful alignment with the natural world;  a vibration straight to my body and soul that sweeps me along with elemental ancient rhythms and cycles.

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We dwell in miracles. and so often have no idea what is available to us. We struggle, try too hard, look beyond instead of within and around us. Some look backward for insight and instead of answers, find pain and suffering, with little way out.
Many of us gaze into the distance searching for the universal wisdom that will define what our lives will become. The future blurs, as we have no connection with the present. Most of us resist what we are blessed with, as though our life and our destiny are adversaries. 
Residing in presence does not mean having no goals or vision. It is distilling time down to the most finite yet infinite moments, that results in an explosion of awareness. In that space, there is no struggle. An opening arises from within and all around us. Our vision becomes clear and we soften and trust the movement that illuminates and enlightens.

We dwell in miracles. and so often have no idea what is available to us. We struggle, try too hard, look beyond instead of within and around us. Some look backward for insight and instead of answers, find pain and suffering, with little way out.

Many of us gaze into the distance searching for the universal wisdom that will define what our lives will become. The future blurs, as we have no connection with the present. Most of us resist what we are blessed with, as though our life and our destiny are adversaries. 

Residing in presence does not mean having no goals or vision. It is distilling time down to the most finite yet infinite moments, that results in an explosion of awareness. In that space, there is no struggle. An opening arises from within and all around us. Our vision becomes clear and we soften and trust the movement that illuminates and enlightens.

Our lives unfold.  That’s the simplest and most apt description for the way move through our short time on his earth. That is how we traverse this world we inhabit.  There is both a randomness and purposefulness intersecting each moment we live.  We humans; mere mortals have the increasingly mistaken idea that we control everything, when in fact arbitrariness is the constant companion that swirls all around us.
Look this lack of order, not as an albatross or a burden to be carried. Open instead to the glorious opportunity, for it is from that place that we steer our own course.
Being fully alive requires that we recognize, embrace, and not fear, the fact that each day as we rise and greet the morning, we have no idea what lies ahead. What we can do is throw aside caution and rip ourselves wide open to the unknown.
Each person, thought, opportunity, challenge and gift that is bestowed upon us, is our chance to make a choice that resets and shapes the direction we travel. 

Our lives unfold.  That’s the simplest and most apt description for the way move through our short time on his earth. That is how we traverse this world we inhabit.  There is both a randomness and purposefulness intersecting each moment we live.  We humans; mere mortals have the increasingly mistaken idea that we control everything, when in fact arbitrariness is the constant companion that swirls all around us.

Look this lack of order, not as an albatross or a burden to be carried. Open instead to the glorious opportunity, for it is from that place that we steer our own course.

Being fully alive requires that we recognize, embrace, and not fear, the fact that each day as we rise and greet the morning, we have no idea what lies ahead. What we can do is throw aside caution and rip ourselves wide open to the unknown.

Each person, thought, opportunity, challenge and gift that is bestowed upon us, is our chance to make a choice that resets and shapes the direction we travel. 

My life is all about the inner journey - I suppose that it always has been. For years, I lived solely in the world of the concrete; the place of believing only in what I saw, touched, experienced, had false control over. That was the house in which I dwelled.
Life has a way of twisting and turning you, and taking you to unexpected places, where your perspective gets flipped upside down. You don’t see it coming, but when it does, nothing is the same. Instead of being turned inside out, I was woven into a fabric that turned me outside in.
I read a definition of home that was, “Home is a place where something flourishes, is most typically found, or from which it originates”. I am back home now. I rejoice at being in nature, soaking in beauty and breathing it through my eyes, skin and full body, deep and nurturing conversations with true friends and family, introspection and solitude, digging my hands into the earth of my garden, a cold iced tea on a hot summer day, singing a country song, sitting on the porch with my dog, and finding myself with my cats by the fire on a brisk fall day.
This is where I flourish, where I am found, and the place from which I originated. 

My life is all about the inner journey - I suppose that it always has been. For years, I lived solely in the world of the concrete; the place of believing only in what I saw, touched, experienced, had false control over. That was the house in which I dwelled.

Life has a way of twisting and turning you, and taking you to unexpected places, where your perspective gets flipped upside down. You don’t see it coming, but when it does, nothing is the same. Instead of being turned inside out, I was woven into a fabric that turned me outside in.

I read a definition of home that was, “Home is a place where something flourishes, is most typically found, or from which it originates”. I am back home now. I rejoice at being in nature, soaking in beauty and breathing it through my eyes, skin and full body, deep and nurturing conversations with true friends and family, introspection and solitude, digging my hands into the earth of my garden, a cold iced tea on a hot summer day, singing a country song, sitting on the porch with my dog, and finding myself with my cats by the fire on a brisk fall day.

This is where I flourish, where I am found, and the place from which I originated. 

I want to begin and end my days melting into the gentle movement of each moment, riding on the ebb and flow of the lyrics of the day. I had a week recently of being fully immersed only in moving from one moment to the next; no goal, no planning, little thought -  no pushing myself.  I stepped out of artificial time demands, and found myself slipping into true time, which has no twenty-four-hour boundaries and cannot not be confined to a predetermined set of minutes, hours, days, and years.
It was a purposeful retuning and resetting of my body’s out of sync relationship with itself. A homecoming between all of my worn and neglected places. Elemental and rudimentary, without effort, I basked in the primitive core of my humanness, and said hello once again to myself.  
Renewal blanketed me, and breath returned. It left its shallow self behind and gifted me with a full body, heart, mind, and spiritual nourishment, bathed in the shelter of life-giving deep breath. 

I want to begin and end my days melting into the gentle movement of each moment, riding on the ebb and flow of the lyrics of the day. I had a week recently of being fully immersed only in moving from one moment to the next; no goal, no planning, little thought -  no pushing myself.  I stepped out of artificial time demands, and found myself slipping into true time, which has no twenty-four-hour boundaries and cannot not be confined to a predetermined set of minutes, hours, days, and years.

It was a purposeful retuning and resetting of my body’s out of sync relationship with itself. A homecoming between all of my worn and neglected places. Elemental and rudimentary, without effort, I basked in the primitive core of my humanness, and said hello once again to myself.  

Renewal blanketed me, and breath returned. It left its shallow self behind and gifted me with a full body, heart, mind, and spiritual nourishment, bathed in the shelter of life-giving deep breath. 

Once living in a state of gratitude wraps its arms around you, the horizons grace you with true vision.  There are no ordinary days.  Every moment is filled with wonder, awe, and an extraordinary vastness.
You take everything in not only through your eyes, but all of your senses explode in an openness, that overwhelms you with a sense of honor at being alive. You are a full participant in the wonder of this life and a hallowed traveler in the world. A glance at the smallest gift can move you to tears and each sunset becomes a sunrise.  
Your heart swells, as you journey as a magnificent and chosen participant in the great mystery of life. Gratitude becomes too narrow a description, as there are no words that can hold the depth of meaning of being fully alive.

Once living in a state of gratitude wraps its arms around you, the horizons grace you with true vision.  There are no ordinary days.  Every moment is filled with wonder, awe, and an extraordinary vastness.

You take everything in not only through your eyes, but all of your senses explode in an openness, that overwhelms you with a sense of honor at being alive. You are a full participant in the wonder of this life and a hallowed traveler in the world. A glance at the smallest gift can move you to tears and each sunset becomes a sunrise.  

Your heart swells, as you journey as a magnificent and chosen participant in the great mystery of life. Gratitude becomes too narrow a description, as there are no words that can hold the depth of meaning of being fully alive.

There are things that we are meant to see; gifts that silently wait for our discovery of them. If we move too quickly, if we only scan the horizon, rather than sifting through the expansiveness of our inner and outer vision, we will miss that which was intended only for us. We either bend down and caress the talisman, or fail to see it, and from there, stumble without the signpost, purposely left in our path.
Something tangible, or a person, a gesture, a conversation, an innuendo, a coincidence that appears out of nowhere, are all magical guides. Their intention is not for us to struggle to decode their meaning, rather, these are clues to a expansive understanding beneath conscious thought.  
Open, discover, ponder, caress, then let go, and the markers in the road appear, providing a shortcut to what would have been a lengthy journey - one devoid of the spark of illumination. We stand now in the brilliance of our own light.

There are things that we are meant to see; gifts that silently wait for our discovery of them. If we move too quickly, if we only scan the horizon, rather than sifting through the expansiveness of our inner and outer vision, we will miss that which was intended only for us. We either bend down and caress the talisman, or fail to see it, and from there, stumble without the signpost, purposely left in our path.

Something tangible, or a person, a gesture, a conversation, an innuendo, a coincidence that appears out of nowhere, are all magical guides. Their intention is not for us to struggle to decode their meaning, rather, these are clues to a expansive understanding beneath conscious thought.  

Open, discover, ponder, caress, then let go, and the markers in the road appear, providing a shortcut to what would have been a lengthy journey - one devoid of the spark of illumination. We stand now in the brilliance of our own light.

If you take up residence in the light of your soul
You will no longer confuse 
That which is necessary
With the illusion of what you think you need

If you take up residence in the light of your soul

You will no longer confuse 

That which is necessary

With the illusion of what you think you need

I met this woman of the branches last week on a bluff overlooking the rugged Pacific Ocean.  She spoke to me about the need to be free, no matter what the cost.  At first glance she looked to be trying to untangle herself - caught in the gnarls of a life defined by encumbrances; a life of expectations and “I was raised to be a good girl”.  She was all at once old, and at the same time, possessed agelessness and essence that was forever young, crying out for more of everything that life had yet to unveil to her. This was no Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz, without a heart, waiting for an oil can to free her. She had already arrived.
Her branch arms reached out to the wildness of the Pacific, beckoning its music and pounding rhythm to come closer.  Her craggy, life-worn face, opened to the horizon and all possibility, with a sense of permanence that comes only from a deep knowingness. She had chosen to live as a pivotal, intrinsic part of the sanctity of the landscape, forever deeply rooted in the earth’s energy, startling beauty and bathed by the sun and the sea. This goddess of the wild opens to the heavens and stands in eternal, sacred prayer. 

I met this woman of the branches last week on a bluff overlooking the rugged Pacific Ocean.  She spoke to me about the need to be free, no matter what the cost.  At first glance she looked to be trying to untangle herself - caught in the gnarls of a life defined by encumbrances; a life of expectations and “I was raised to be a good girl”.  She was all at once old, and at the same time, possessed agelessness and essence that was forever young, crying out for more of everything that life had yet to unveil to her. This was no Tin Man from the Wizard of Oz, without a heart, waiting for an oil can to free her. She had already arrived.

Her branch arms reached out to the wildness of the Pacific, beckoning its music and pounding rhythm to come closer.  Her craggy, life-worn face, opened to the horizon and all possibility, with a sense of permanence that comes only from a deep knowingness. She had chosen to live as a pivotal, intrinsic part of the sanctity of the landscape, forever deeply rooted in the earth’s energy, startling beauty and bathed by the sun and the sea. This goddess of the wild opens to the heavens and stands in eternal, sacred prayer. 

Through an open crack in my kitchen window this morning, air inside of the house became infused with the warm and comforting scent of burning wood.  It is fall, the mornings have dipped into the 30’s and 40’s, and smoke billows from my neighbors’ chimneys.  I love the aliveness that comes from icy morning air hitting my face.  It awakens me on many levels.
I took time today, to take a dark, strong, cup of steaming tea outside, and let my senses fill with the sights, smells, and sounds of fall in the mountains.  This is why I live here.  Yet, there are times that even I am so busy, that all of this wonder threatens to become routine. Each time I catch myself failing to take in the majesty of it all, I stop.  This morning it was taking a cup of tea outside and sitting on the deck with my dog.  The other night, it was gazing up through the redwood trees at the crystal clear, star-filled night, as I did something as simple as taking out my trash. 
My surroundings are my teachers, whose voices trumpet loudly inside my head, refusing to let me dip into complacency. I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

Through an open crack in my kitchen window this morning, air inside of the house became infused with the warm and comforting scent of burning wood.  It is fall, the mornings have dipped into the 30’s and 40’s, and smoke billows from my neighbors’ chimneys.  I love the aliveness that comes from icy morning air hitting my face.  It awakens me on many levels.

I took time today, to take a dark, strong, cup of steaming tea outside, and let my senses fill with the sights, smells, and sounds of fall in the mountains.  This is why I live here.  Yet, there are times that even I am so busy, that all of this wonder threatens to become routine. Each time I catch myself failing to take in the majesty of it all, I stop.  This morning it was taking a cup of tea outside and sitting on the deck with my dog.  The other night, it was gazing up through the redwood trees at the crystal clear, star-filled night, as I did something as simple as taking out my trash. 

My surroundings are my teachers, whose voices trumpet loudly inside my head, refusing to let me dip into complacency. I am overwhelmed with gratitude.

We’ve passed the place where we need to simply slow down. We’re at the juncture where we are in dire jeopardy as humans if we don’t stop.  Visible lack of humanity is not so egregious that you have to witness some ungodly act  in order to have it pierce your protective layer. We’re simply as a species, losing the ability to look wider than our narrowly-focused, vapid lives, at what is visible all around us, if only we stop to see.
The older homeless woman, Bunny, who lives in the back part of my work parking lot, has a worn silk sunflower, attached to her shopping cart, a jarring contrast to a harshly cruel life on the streets and to the enormous wealth that permeates this area.  Teslas, Lululemon athletic wear, six dollar ice cream sandwiches, and cafes littered with people sitting together, but disconnected as they engage in their own personal smartphone-electronic-worlds.
Yesterday, Bunny attached, a piece of paper to her cart, with the words “Today is My Birthday” written on it.  She doesn’t panhandle or beg. She lives there.  It is her home. A place where few people would see her declaration - that she was a person celebrating another milestone year.  It was her humanness reaching out to let us know that she is one of us, not a separate abomination.
Her home was there.  It always is, but she had wandered away somewhere else at the end of the day.  In the darkness, I reverently placed a box of chocolates, a warm pair of socks and a birthday card, next to her flower. Human to human, woman to woman, life to life;  No need for recognition of the act that connected me to her. Heart to heart.

We’ve passed the place where we need to simply slow down. We’re at the juncture where we are in dire jeopardy as humans if we don’t stop.  Visible lack of humanity is not so egregious that you have to witness some ungodly act  in order to have it pierce your protective layer. We’re simply as a species, losing the ability to look wider than our narrowly-focused, vapid lives, at what is visible all around us, if only we stop to see.

The older homeless woman, Bunny, who lives in the back part of my work parking lot, has a worn silk sunflower, attached to her shopping cart, a jarring contrast to a harshly cruel life on the streets and to the enormous wealth that permeates this area.  Teslas, Lululemon athletic wear, six dollar ice cream sandwiches, and cafes littered with people sitting together, but disconnected as they engage in their own personal smartphone-electronic-worlds.

Yesterday, Bunny attached, a piece of paper to her cart, with the words “Today is My Birthday” written on it.  She doesn’t panhandle or beg. She lives there.  It is her home. A place where few people would see her declaration - that she was a person celebrating another milestone year.  It was her humanness reaching out to let us know that she is one of us, not a separate abomination.

Her home was there.  It always is, but she had wandered away somewhere else at the end of the day.  In the darkness, I reverently placed a box of chocolates, a warm pair of socks and a birthday card, next to her flower. Human to human, woman to woman, life to life;  No need for recognition of the act that connected me to her. Heart to heart.

We mistake solitude and aloneness with loneliness.  Our world is driven by a frenzy of activity designed to keep us from never experiencing the soul-required, much needed time by ourselves  - That crucial time that  frees us to settle into the fiercely neglected part of ourselves that results in a hollow chasm of a life, defined by things, activities, and doing, rather than by a connection to all that is important.  
Friends, who have no understanding of the nature of the inner world, worry that you are lonely, when it is the loneliness and emptiness of a vapid life that haunts them.  One told me that they leave the television on all the time for “company”….just softly in the background so as to be unobtrusive.  There is a fear that stepping into the world underneath the noise, leads to a place of losing your soul., when it is that quiet, alone place, that acquaints you with yourself and cradles you, as you arrive at a state of sacred peace and grace. 

We mistake solitude and aloneness with loneliness.  Our world is driven by a frenzy of activity designed to keep us from never experiencing the soul-required, much needed time by ourselves  - That crucial time that  frees us to settle into the fiercely neglected part of ourselves that results in a hollow chasm of a life, defined by things, activities, and doing, rather than by a connection to all that is important.  

Friends, who have no understanding of the nature of the inner world, worry that you are lonely, when it is the loneliness and emptiness of a vapid life that haunts them.  One told me that they leave the television on all the time for “company”….just softly in the background so as to be unobtrusive.  There is a fear that stepping into the world underneath the noise, leads to a place of losing your soul., when it is that quiet, alone place, that acquaints you with yourself and cradles you, as you arrive at a state of sacred peace and grace. 

The leaves crackled under my feet this morning as the now cold, fall morning air, wrapped itself around and crept deep inside of me.  My wooly bear of a dog romped for a few moments, but was anxious to get back into the warmth of the house.  As I turned to go back, visions of the the warmth of the house enveloping my body, I saw one of the the last vestiges of a summer tomato crop.  I gently pulled the ice-cold juicy red-green tomato off of the vine and dropped it into my mouth, savoring the sound, the feel, the taste, of a season gone by.  It seemed a holy ritual. The goodbye to one season and the recognition that another had arrived, and yet another was sitting in wait close behind.  The moment, the cold air, the dog, the seasons, that define my life.
Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s part of the journey to a deeper wisdom and sense of the rhythm and movement of things more profound than world we inhabit every day, but I am now in tune with the soft, subtle and fierce vibration of things earthy.  I find joy and life in the smallest things and each day that I dig deeper into the world of nature and home, the the closer I get to myself.  Layers peel off and I catch a glimpse of myself in a store window with my curly hair flying, and am incredibly grateful for standing on such hallowed ground at this point in my life.

The leaves crackled under my feet this morning as the now cold, fall morning air, wrapped itself around and crept deep inside of me.  My wooly bear of a dog romped for a few moments, but was anxious to get back into the warmth of the house.  As I turned to go back, visions of the the warmth of the house enveloping my body, I saw one of the the last vestiges of a summer tomato crop.  I gently pulled the ice-cold juicy red-green tomato off of the vine and dropped it into my mouth, savoring the sound, the feel, the taste, of a season gone by.  It seemed a holy ritual. The goodbye to one season and the recognition that another had arrived, and yet another was sitting in wait close behind.  The moment, the cold air, the dog, the seasons, that define my life.

Maybe it’s age, maybe it’s part of the journey to a deeper wisdom and sense of the rhythm and movement of things more profound than world we inhabit every day, but I am now in tune with the soft, subtle and fierce vibration of things earthy.  I find joy and life in the smallest things and each day that I dig deeper into the world of nature and home, the the closer I get to myself.  Layers peel off and I catch a glimpse of myself in a store window with my curly hair flying, and am incredibly grateful for standing on such hallowed ground at this point in my life.

We each have the essential gifts that we carry through this world.  Some we have developed, and some we are born with.  It’s not a matter of what we do, what we are good at or what talents we’ve honed, its the deep and essential truth of who we are and what we bring to the world.
Prior to the time that as children, we are tainted by the messages of the world, we are the embodiment of that essential being and those gifts are shared freely, without thought or purpose. The sweet presence of our life-essence  is visible at every moment.  That light shines through from infancy and remains until the world tells us that we have to hide who we are, and begin to express what we are good at.  Thus begins the spiral leading to the confusion and loss of the sense of self.  What results is an outward facing definition of who we are, and so begins the journey of losing touch with what was once our  burning radiance.
Beneath the noise and years of piling on false selves, the pure essence of who we are yearns to come back home.  It begins with a flash of recognition one day, when you catch a glimpse of yourself and recognize in your eyes, that true sense of who you are.  The feeling sears through your body and soul, and the recognition of a lost part of yourself returns.  
The road to the rediscovery of who you are, your essential self, and of your true gifts, can be a quick one.  It doesn’t take years of digging and exploration, because it is all there.  Time in silence, in nature, and moving your body once again as you did as a child, brings back a flood of all that was buried for so long.  
A childlike grin of recognition crosses your face as you greet your old friend walking across a field to you.  She steps into your body and every cell is once again infused with your brilliance.  An explosion blows away your old life and lights up your universe.  Transformation. 
 

We each have the essential gifts that we carry through this world.  Some we have developed, and some we are born with.  It’s not a matter of what we do, what we are good at or what talents we’ve honed, its the deep and essential truth of who we are and what we bring to the world.

Prior to the time that as children, we are tainted by the messages of the world, we are the embodiment of that essential being and those gifts are shared freely, without thought or purpose. The sweet presence of our life-essence  is visible at every moment.  That light shines through from infancy and remains until the world tells us that we have to hide who we are, and begin to express what we are good at.  Thus begins the spiral leading to the confusion and loss of the sense of self.  What results is an outward facing definition of who we are, and so begins the journey of losing touch with what was once our  burning radiance.

Beneath the noise and years of piling on false selves, the pure essence of who we are yearns to come back home.  It begins with a flash of recognition one day, when you catch a glimpse of yourself and recognize in your eyes, that true sense of who you are.  The feeling sears through your body and soul, and the recognition of a lost part of yourself returns.  

The road to the rediscovery of who you are, your essential self, and of your true gifts, can be a quick one.  It doesn’t take years of digging and exploration, because it is all there.  Time in silence, in nature, and moving your body once again as you did as a child, brings back a flood of all that was buried for so long.  

A childlike grin of recognition crosses your face as you greet your old friend walking across a field to you.  She steps into your body and every cell is once again infused with your brilliance.  An explosion blows away your old life and lights up your universe.  Transformation.