finally

our potency exists in our ability to react fearlessly to what time puts immediately before us in harmony with what exists already in naked, honest desire within us... and to be consumed by neither.

Im an auntie! Well, technically i have been since i was fourteen, but my baby sister, best friend, the human that never ceases to surprise my skeptical guarded heart made her own little human (with her set-the-bar-remarkable hubs) and i couldn't sob tears of awe any harder without rupturing my entire being. This babe is magnetic, pulling me in to what is simple and kind and unshaped by any other human; she is so fresh and so clean clean, her gentle most clearest of truths self. She is pure. She is Quinn. Quinn Marie.

And this weekend i met her for the first time.

So i will check that off the list.

Just like I'm going to check writing this post off the list.

So now i can attend to the next things to replace these accomplished list bits.

And so it goes….

Fuck. Is the "list" ever really done?

It is ironic that i wrote that bit of business in fancy italicized font at the top of this post along with the promise of a full post (this one here) over a month ago intending on impressing upon you how easy it is to get lost in what is right in front of you at the expense of what is inside of you. Writing out the thoughts i had around that--hell, writing itself--existed within me as information i needed to feel out and process and share, yet i allowed all that has been coming at me day after day to get in the way. What happened was that in wanting simply to talk about the balance between inward focus and external necessity, i lived it instead.

I have been living a list.

This job, that catering, this crush, move to this house, wash these socks*, buy a god damn bike helmet already, pickle carrots…seriously. Really?! Is pickling carrots more important than my practice? Meditation? Writing? Finally going to see my sisters babe? Well, once i have all my seasonal preserving done, then i can talk about the anxiety that has been clutching at my throat for longer than those damn carrot seeds have been planted.

Again, ironically, we pickled those carrots, my ma, sister, Quinn, and I this weekend. Two birds with one stone. Two stoned birds. Distractions….

It isn't all distractions, though, that present moment surface stuff that keeps us from attending to what exists on a deeper level. Some of it is very real. Meeting my niece cannot be compared to washing the socks that--*for those of you who know me far too well know--i don't even own, yet moving into a new home and working (albeit excessively) to pay off three months in France are very real "to dos" that kept me from meeting her.

One more irony: now that i have met her I realize that none of it was comparable at all. Nothing is of more value, necessity, integrity, than meeting that little vitamin. Nothing. Yet, in the way that things go, the Universe only offers you what you need in the moments that you need it, and does not take it away until you have learned all you can from it. If i was allowing myself to put things before meeting Quinn, then i wasn't ready to receive what she had to offer me. And when i was ready…oh whoah. Such wisdom in that little babe, embodying the reminder to be only the most unadulterated, honest version of self, without distraction, excuse, or fear.

Much the same, i was not ready to write this post until i had experienced the message that i sought to write: our potency exists in our ability to react fearlessly to what time puts immediately before us in harmony with what exists already in naked, honest desire within us... and to be consumed by neither.

There will always be things to do that seem--seem--of timely importance. There will always be an abundance of distractions, opportunities, gifts, moments of heightened levels of awareness that allow us to be more consciously involved with immediate interactions and synchronicities; things that make us feel connected to our present, momentous selves, or, alternatively, things that simply numb us from our constancies. Living presently can be both the opportunity to create oneself spontaneously, to flourish in newness, adaptability, raw emotional reactivity, to be curious--and it can also take us away from what we truly value, the direction we seek to journey, our intended hearts and our understanding minds. The trickiest part of living in balance with the ever evolving list and the pre decided truth of self is to know what is merely a distraction and simply cross it off without attendance in order to make space and time for what is more personally meaningful.

To live as your most potent self is to be constantly re-navigating from your internal source, trusting in your intrinsic genius and taking time away from practicalities for what is more a part of your impassioned intention. Presence, then, is not only your ability to take what is coming at you day after day but to act from a place of clear mind and heart. We choose what we receive. We choose what is next. What holds the most credence to you may look selfish or foolish to others--but nothing is of more value than something else until you make it that way.

And before anything you must value yourself.

I was anxious because i was attaching value to whatever came at me, making excuses of getting this done and then this done after that was done before any real work could be done. I was busying myself in ideas and jobs and time stealers as a means of excusing my inability to sit still with myself and acknowledge that i had (have) much greater work to do. The only result of this was feeling the numbing of neglect to my self. I had lost the balance between a beautiful surrender to spontaneity and an unwavering knowing and trust in what i needed and who i am to be. I am a hyper passionate being, lately though, i have felt tepid at best, timid in my ability to not take what is merely coming my way, but grab at it from the core of my trust in self--at what i know to be of personal value. I have diluted my own potency with busyness, and finally understand what peace can come from giving a little on the side of receiving so that your offering might be greater--to take less of what is handed at me so the i might give what is dynamically me.

As you look at your own list, look at what it means to attend to one thing over the next. Are you avoiding what is begging for your immediate attention, whether that is digging deeper to the heart of your youness or embracing the possibility of something cast your way? Are you so consumed by surface level checkmarks that your internal compass is spinning at a loss of direction? Sit still with yourself. Acknowledge that once you were as brand new as sweet Quinn, truly a gift who would have the world as it came, piece by piece, handed to you as you needed and your innate response would shape all those you connected with, all that continued to shape you into who you are now. Continue to make an offering, without excuses or distractions, but an honest wisdom and trust in what is immediately in need of your attention: whether that be an external source of experience or an opportunity to reconnect with your unique self. Living wholly, transparent and authentic is not something waiting at the end of a list, but an integral part of each landmark you check off by living.

And finally, be free.

Chapter 8

I moved. Again.

And again i am reminded of this absurd imbalance within me to at once be a gypsy free to explore and welcoming of every adventure disguised as change, and to dig my toes into Mother Earth and set roots from my soles and soul. I am simultaneously accepting if not excited for what is next, and tired of not having a place to call "home." So the story goes...

Every time i have moved is like a new chapter in my life, as significant as the beginning or ending of a relationship, a career change, a quarter life crises (or three). Every home, no matter how temporary, becomes the backdrop for frames of change in my life; places for something, myself, to unfold.

I'll miss the setting of the last four months of my life: two sets of corner windows pooling with sunlight; original wood floors barren but for smatterings of paint from nights laced with whiskey and dreams; chalk strewn steps leading up to the "Goddess Lair;" a six year olds bedroom and a bicycle graveyard. If i was to title the chapter that this space was, i would call it "Self Love and Sad Truths: Confessions of an Honest to Goddess Wanderlust." (Wordy bit of business for somewhere i did hardly any writing); a chapter about transitions and sisterhood in a space so safe as to simply exist and feel and be.

When i moved in here, my lostness was disguised as wanderlust, coming home from a most catalytic two weeks in mexico and repacking for France in half that time. I was fully embracing being transient, having moved three times in three months prior to travelling. The next three months would be spent in a country whose language i didn't speak with no job and no real intentions other than to, well, escape. I'd given away next to all of my belongings and while overseas was prepared to stay and start the next chapter there. Yet when i thought of the lair while in Marseille, i could feel the idea of it satiate whatever desire i had to ground. If i was going to come back, at least i had a "home" to come back to.

The first months of this chapter were spent in culture shock. I felt stranded, misunderstood, lonely, upswept from the contented existence i had in France. i wanted so much so for this time to be temporary; to get through what i had to get through and get on the next plane back to Europe. I still want to do that. But not in a way that is running back to myself, rather in a way that is connected more deeply to myself.

That is what this space, and this chapter provided: the opportunity to look without blinking lest i miss a significant truth detail of whom i am. There were patterns to watch for, systems of survival to re then un-create, confessions to make, little peas of discomfort and fear to find under layers of falsities stacked like mattresses in a fairy tale. Because i entered into this home with as much gratitude for the welcoming arms that shared the space as i did non-attachment to any amount of time there, i was in this vortex where i wasn't living with a direction or purpose other than to watch myself in my own existence. And what i saw was that i was dreaming up the next chapters instead of participating in this one. Which was exactly where i needed to be: not here, emotionally, at all...

i was still in Europe and in Europe again. i was consumed by memories raw with sensation, numb to anything in my present, and emotionally investing in a future that i didn't know anything more about than it not being here. This chapter was written almost subconsciously--as if not knowing what was next but wanting it so badly had me so disconnected from what i was actually living and could be writing. In this way the chapter wrote itself, and now, as i sit on the floor in my new (again temporary) "home" its as if i get to read it.

Turns out its quite a beautiful little tale. One of late nights with a tribe of females i would walk to the ends of everywhere for. Pantslessness. Experimentation and meditation. There was a lot of ramen and not enough dancing. Reunions that made me aware of the immense capacity of humans to love. Conversations that revealed the immense capacity of humans to feel, see, and speak their truth. The pricelessness of listening, and being listened to. Awareness. People whose presence erases time and whose words erase doubt. People who saw me when i was trying not to be seen. People who loved me when i was trying not to be loved but needing it the most. People who let me see them and love them. People who as they read this I'm sure they know are those people, and will continue to grace the next chapters of my life.

And in writing about this so called chapter after it closes rather than while living it, i acknowledge that i was always there, and in choosing not to be only made the space more valuable.  So much of our lives pass in this way: only realizing the significance in a situation, a conversation, a decision, an encounter, a failure, a success, parallels and full circles until we are out of the wild immediacy of it and are allowing it to be acceptingly absorbed into our consciousness. As if while in the heat we don't feel the burn, but allow it to cool and it stings so rawly you cannot ignore your own aliveness. No matter how much regret you feel, or how caught up in your dreams, no matter if you are waiting for something or regressing into a previous state, no matter the level of contentedness or freedom you embody, you are the creator of every moment, every chapter of your life. You are exactly where you need to be and like some beautiful element of foreshadowing, your thoughts, feels, actions, and choices, are at once a product of where you have been and where you are going. You can exist harmoniously then, between a state of curiosity and creation of your next chapter, and resolute trust in the grounded genius of your own sense of self, as i am learning to...

Because: "wherever i go there i am"

Thanks for the lesson Chey. I can't wait to live out the next chapter with you.

need want have

Things I consider integral to life as I like to live it: fresh food, sharing, laughter, music, movement, creativity. Give me these outlets and I am as happy anywhere in Provence or elsewhere.

You may need more than that, or none of it all. Your list, likely, looks quite different, but we all seem to need certain things to feel in love with life, and ourselves in it. We all have ideals that create the perfect circumstances for our existence, and we create them wherever we are living to offer a sense of comfortable familiarity. Some of us need routine and stability, some need to feel productive, challenged, purposeful, others need silence while still others thrive in chaos. We have specific hours that we want to devote to sleep, to work, to play. We have scenarios in which we claim to function at our most fine tuned, and though we can adapt to adventure, excitement, new ness, and change at varying degrees of steadiness, for the most part we keep a short list of essentials that keeps our heads and hearts from spiraling too far outside of how we choose to live.

And it is a choice. What we take in from our surroundings, what we offer back to it, how we live in harmony with our environment and ourselves by how we adapt is a choice. On my very first day in Marseille, I--though seemingly unconsciously--began to create my ideal circumstances; but in time they, again, seemingly unconsciously, began to take new shapes, rearrange themselves, almost became diluted in their specific identity and instead became more sensational. That whole statement seems diluted, stay with me....

But pause with me for a minute too. Because I should note that in the same way that my ideal environment to be my greatest self in shimmied its way around Europe, so has this very piece of writing. I started this bit early on in Marseille, and revisited it after some travelling, some conversations, a couple of tipiffany's and eventually wrote in capslocks FINISH AT HOME. I wanted to test something that I was learning through the writing of this: it is more of an emotional climate in which we flourish, and the physical mediums, the more descript details of our list of essentials has a leniency to it. In other words, not only do we choose what we "need," we choose to see rather, what it is we get from such needs--we see the product of our physical space show up in our emotional well being.

So the list of things I "need" that began this post is notably non-descript. That is because it can be adapted to whatever place I am calling home for however long. Fresh food here looks a lot different than the organic markets on every corner within five minutes walking from my French home. Fresh food itself can sometimes mean to me that it is grown in soil close enough for me to touch, other times, it means an apple without a Washington sticker and coat of wax on it--both ideals create a harmonious reaction in me towards food and my relationship with it; both nourish my body and my moral vote to eat organically and healthily. That said, the same reaction can come from eating a bag of licorice allsorts from a touristy pirate candy shop because in that moment, its soul food. Similarly movement once meant that I needed to run every morning and now it means that I love to practice every day--and that some days practice means a five minute child's pose or a couple of handstands on the beach, or just pausing for a minute to notice and lengthen my breath. And then comes the realization that none of these needs are actually needs at all, but things we have responded well too and have an ingrained desire for that elicits, again, that positive emotional response that in turn allows us to vibrate at our highest frequency; be the raddest us we can be. But if these circumstances are so flexible, and if desires can change as we discover alternative ways of bettering ourselves or realize something doesn't serve us as well as the next thing, then comes the opportunity to really learn that everything you need you already have.

Because everything already exists within you.

Its a lesson, in this material world, where we can, truly have everything we want, and how we throw around the term "I need" as casually as we say "I love you," that we learn and relearn. We know that it does not take escaping from or to another city to get away or start over, earning more money, being able to stand on your head or swim in the sea, its not the eight hours of sleep or coffee in your cup in the morning. You may want these things, but you do not need them. If they make you happy, inspire you, get your ass out of bed, keep that fire burning in your heart then do them. But know that it is you stoking the flames.

Those emotional responses to whatever your ideal situation is are vibrational reminders of how you are in control if, if of anything at all, how you respond to the world around you--what you are willing to see and receive. When we give ourselves the opportunity to notice our reactions, we see that the positive are the same as the negative, that neither is truly related to something not fitting into our ideals, but ourselves not able to move beyond them. That person you hope to be when all the stars are in line and your favourite song is playing and you have time to paint in your dream house while wearing your lucky socks--that person already exists. Tucked right underneath all the attachment to perfect circumstance, place, and time.

Now, finishing off this piece from the floor of my paint splattered goddess lair, thinking of that floral rug in my home sweet Marseille, I'm more sure that our ideal circumstances are created more in full from the very centre of our being than they are the extremities of the world around us, We respond to places. We respond to people. To ideas. To excitement, fear, curiosity, comfort, love. We are malleable beings, and it is only when you are the moulder, listening and believing that you have all that you "need", that you grow in the way that you want within change. You continue to create yourself--or simply be yourself--in response to who you already are. The greatest response then, is self love. Love on. 

.

Heart space

It is not the finality
of love
that swells inside
of you,
suffocating your heart---

it is
the intoxicating realization
of the capacity of your heart
to feel.


......

Its over, the grand French adventure. And my heart is caught up in my esophagus and sometimes I can barely breathe--either for not wanting it to have ended, to be back there with it lasting and lasting.... or realizing all that it has been and steeping in that.

To be honest with you, I have hardly been steeping. Its more like wallowing. Wallowing and missing and longing for, mourning even. Yet France hasn't died. Nor has the me that was there. So what am I mourning?

The only answer I have to that is space.

I did not go to do anything other than write while pantsless and smoking cigarettes. You know this. There were no grand intentions beyond eating, beyond experience, beyond adventure, beyond opportunity; I wouldn't have gone if it wasn't for D and R creating the space for me to join them. Long story short, I didn't go to do anything but go.

But it turned into a much longer story than that.

It turned into creating a space for exactly the experience, adventure, opportunities to grow and learn and simply be that I could not have done otherwise. Without a prerogative I was able to be the most present and most grounded I have ever felt in all of my evers. I learned, really learned the power of time, and how to play within its constraints, finding meaning in the playfulness and productivity in the least serious of intentions. I trusted myself to know everything and nothing at all. There, in Marseille, I was steeping: in my values, my questions, my learned answers, my desires, my I- don't- give- a- fuck-ed-ness and my I- care- too- god- damn- much-ed-ness, this rich brew of reactions and thoughtful responses, of learned behaviours being unlearned all on their own. Being in so much space, free from agendas, indebted relationships, nexts and laters, left only time for now; a spaciousness that allowed me to be in a constant moving meditation that now has me remarkably still in trying to, adversely, steep myself within it--absorb it all.

ooh la la. The story continues, and I continue to give myself space for it.

Your turn to be honest with you: when have you given yourself the space you need? Space to absorb your reactions, your questions, the answers you receive, your impulses, your deepest desires, your fears, what attracts you, deters you, and what leaves you apathetic. When was the last time you allowed your mind to clear in a way that creates enough space to truly see outside of your own perspective? In this space seeing, hearing, listening, and when the time is right or you feel so empassioned, speaking to all of the energies inevitably sharing in your space. When did you last feel fully present? Take your time; think about it....

....

It was the last time you loved a little deeper, a little more intimately, much more fearlessly.

It was a moment when you stopped trying so hard; when you chose not to suffer through or force something that was showing up so wrongly in your body and mind and shifted yourself energetically to soften into what was more true for you.

When you let something have you. Let yourself be swept up and cast into a dizzying vortex of maybes. When you let yourself and your agenda rest in hammock like surrender to possibility.

When you didn't know. When you had no fucking clue. And you loved it.

Whew. Honesty--right?

What I have gotten most out of my time in Marseille is how integral it is to be honest with what you are doing with your precious time here. Is what you are doing making you happy? Someone else? Something greater? Don't do something simply to suffer through, pay your dues, get to the next bit. We don't get to something great by suffering, we get there by loving the work we are doing and creating the space for ourselves to do it. Creating room for all that we experience to percolate, to steep so that we are not left mourning what could have been.

So I am not mourning, I actually am steeping. Allowing all of that permeable space to be saturated with the experiences I may not have intended to have but am more full for having them, and taking them with me into this next space of here and now. A learned behaviour of gifting myself whatever space is needed to remain clear and grounded, happily human.

Just as I am thinking that that trip was not long enough, I know just how god damn much it has been. So much more than just time. So much more than can be allotted to any amount of tangible space, for the space to intimately connect with who you are on a cellular level exists within the limitless capacity of your heart. We have all of the space we need.