My Glad/Mad/Sad Year

Last year at this time the burrowing owls stood guard at the condo grounds.  Visions of a new job,  after a 3 year ordeal trying, and hopes for finding a house danced in my head.  Like everything I decide to do, I mixed up a potent dose of naive optimism, idealism, manic excitement and frustration at the pace of change.  I drank that  kool-aid right down,  drooling over the prospect of salvation from condo life- the sad chapters lived there-  to an upgraded version of 'freedom':  financial,  land to play with,  creating the office/studio space for all things right brain.  I believed all my sacrifices would count, and the struggle would merit a validation;  life would finally deliver my well-earned rewards for doing the 'right thing',  staying my course and not giving up.

This is partly a piece about New Age tyranny (everything must be 'positive').  And to differ from my profound and lifelong connection with Mother Nature,  I cannot explain this year by 'spiritual' means.  I can't blame myself anymore for believing in an impossible love.  Or exposing the entrenched dysfunctions at work only to find greater hostility.  For wandering the rooms of my new house in heartache,

when it was me that believed it was all possible, in a package,  complete with dog...true love in the oasis of creativity and peace- at last.
The move was a purge, a repackaging, and a revision of the old Barn Days if only to find that patch of ground to grow something, anything that would allow me to watch Mother Gaia do Her thing.
Working towards a professional space of counseling and workshops was simply embedded in the notion that anyone would like time away in a Garden,  to heal through Nature and wise counsel the many conflicts within.  

So it was especially poignant to find Kenny dog, and with that, M unloading himself into the house,  ready to train and mow and fix.  It seemed the past had taken the intervening 20 years and brought me to a kind of second chance, morphed into day job and house-owning and partnering with someone.  And on the surface it all looked so good.....my denial was so deep.

It only took a series of MIAs to bust that denial wide open,  and with it,  my determined idealism that all SHOULD work out well.
Kenny was the 'dog in the middle' of estranged humans who still live in the same house;  heartbreaking to watch waiting by doors,  and sad eyes, and no explanation possible. 

At work,  hostility becomes shunning,  while coping with the pressures of learning altogether new skills and authority. 
The Aries girl who loves a challenge is silently celebrating my victory.  The schlubby little jewish girl who never quite knows how to 'fit in' soon realizes I will never be understood,  accepted or appreciated by .... M,  staff, family.... By the happy New Agers,  the super Jews...   The lonely road at work meets lonely road at home. 

While Kenny grows and grows,  my owner-anxieties flourish over all the time he stays in the house alone,  the training disasters, chewed shoes, and running,  dealing with M coming and going, and never enough emotional space to settle in and find the rhythm of this life,  nurture my artistic self around the co-opting of artistic space.  M takes his time.   I wallow deep in seasonal depression not relieved by southern sun.  In an age of civil and cosmic unrest,  there is no space not otherwise occupied by the clamoring forces of change....just when I thought I'd be celebrating I seem left behind in a room 'of my own choosing', alone.

Depression stole my heart, my voice and my hope.  I didn't want to write and try to pump myself up,  or explain the 'cosmic rationale' behind everything anymore.  I felt deeply wounded and betrayed by shiny promises I wanted desperately to believe;  I wanted that chance to have that full package again;  I wanted to feel wanted.

I was awake before sunrise today, and despite overcast skies,  was determined to get Kenny to the beach finally, since he's never been.  After a quick pre-dawn walk I loaded him up and parked off A1A,  jogging down the quiet side streets until we came onto the open beach.  Kenny could smell something different and was excited, then nervous as the beach and the wide expanse of water opened up before us...he trotted around the beach until finally realized the water was coming in and out,  nervous to avoid the surf until I started throwing sticks.  Then it seemed to click.  We took our time, down then back up the water front,  chasing sticks.  He frolicked and got wet and full of sand- and seemed to love it all!

Doing something for Kenny satisfies the mother in me....and makes me feel needed.  I needed to walk this long empty beach today and see my dog happy in the sand and know I gave that moment to him.  I also need to mother myself, and accept the broken heartedness that my childish naive, idealistic self is struggling to outgrow,  while appreciating that all in all,  I landed in a pretty sweet spot.  It is still possible,  everything I dream.   I am not hardened,  only silent.  I am not gone,  just stepped to the side.  Something wants to emerge and its not just the dreams of my past anymore.  It wants to be Something Brand New. 

Mysterious Forces

While the Sun throws us deep mysteries and speaks through ramped up activity,  cooler temps come to SoFlo, allowing the intensity of light to fall through the crystalline skies.  It's hard to connect with the Cosmic world while navigating interior spaces in offices and buildings, the pressure of people's drama and find the sure footing needed to dance through it all, until respite at day's end.  But this week, each run, no matter how long or short, is an open invitation to fold myself into the arms of the atmosphere, and let Life embrace me as I pit-pat my way around the neighborhood. 

This morning,  Kenny and I took a more leisurely walk, interspersed with bits of jogging, over the river and into the quiet side streets.   I'm not a 'morning person' by nature, but my schedule has enforced a new relationship with the dawn;  during the week we are up and out before the sun, often watching the sky color up as we come to our pit-stop by river's edge.  Today,  the sun crested the horizon, but barely- and birds, which are migrating down the coastline, greeted us in raucous chorus as we padded along.  After dropping him back at the house,  I changed shoes and went out again on my own.  No matter how focused he can be,  it's still different to run with a dog than to run alone.
I headed north,  finding my gait to ease into a few+ easy miles with no burden but my own body and the weight of my own drama swirling in my head.

The adjustment to forces,  whether macro- or micro,  the crowded current events, or the maelstrom of personal issues which keep percolating their ever-present permutations, can be exhausting.  Like any run, finding the 'sweet spot' between going at it too intensely or not enough takes practice.  What I remind myself every day is that I've been at this a long time.  For many years I had no explanation of why I suffered at the mercy of life forces, and little skills at dealing with it.  The exhaustive process of falling and failing, finding help and learning what works for me paid off with the discipline I learned as an artist.  Life is a blank canvas,  an empty sheet of paper,  a block of wood.  Tools are at my disposal, along with a smorgasbord of materials,  to create my life.  Some of the work is crap, but often can be wonderful:  but without the discipline of the craft,  nothing would come to fruition.

I put all that to use going back to school,  coping with the process of the Real World in all its demands of degrees and credentials, creating a new career.  It was still a rocky road but I progressed.
I remind myself of my benchmarks;  like the mile markers of the course.  I come up to some formidable miles dispirited and exhausted but know that one foot in front of the other gets me to the finish line. 

We forget too easily, when feeling the enormity of our feelings,  that we've traveled a similar path...maybe it was another place or time,  but the process of our own progression down the road still contains the same elements.  We move, we adapt, we struggle, we grow.  We don't move sometimes, we rest.  But we don't turn around and move backwards.  Only art, or therapy gives us a window into where we've been.  But in truth we are still PRESENT here, now,  and the only way on is forward.

I give all respect to the Mystery at work which seeks to impress upon us the full weight of these changes....hang on to your hats and watch your step as you find your path....keep moving and if you stop,  know that a rest was needed, and whatever comes up is asking for your attention. Give yourself that love and care today. 

Void

Depression steals the will to express.  It's been a long time since I wrote on the blog,  and it finally hit me,  as I lay in bed this week with a stomach bug,  that the Thief was at it, again.  If you are a depression sufferer, especially of the 'seasonal' variety, meaning, made worse by the negative anticipation of holidays,  please,  pay attention to what I am about to share.

A Mental health professional who suffers a mental health issue is not uncommon.  Many folks are very vocal- they write books about their experiences.  I use my history in therapeutic doses,  primarily to 'normalize' what clients think is "going crazy", by suggesting how common feelings of existential despair can be, no matter what side of the 'couch' you're on.  And here on the blog,  I have used my experience with running as a kind of metaphor for the efforts I've undergone to learn to manage a life-long,  often debilitating condition.

Forward on to the new house, and the onslaught of changes in my routine.  New work schedule (9-5ish),  new house responsibilities,  new dog  (yes we all love Kenny!), and new 'roommate'.  OK he's an old roommate, but he's here again,  and the stress of dealing with someone who isn't willing to understand and use some basic skills to deal with this is exasperating at best,  devastating at worst.  Running began to suffer with the demands of a puppy's schedule, and I hung on for dear life to my weekend runs, especially Sundays, as the one day I could confirm to myself that yes,  I am STILL a runner!

And then this week: the equinox/eclipse portal and a stomach bug which brought me completely down and out of work.  Time to ...not exactly think....but percolate the material that has been swirling around the surface of my life, into my interior.  The Shamanic Descent does not ask for permission,  it just happens.  The imperative of our life to stop the superficial merry-go-round of daily scripts to dig into the depths of what we feel, 'know' or need to know is often triggered by crisis, as few of us go there willingly.  After all,  what is revealed is difficult- we have hidden it from ourselves for a reason.  We needed to remove all the needless distraction to find out that 'something is wrong'- some thing is asking for our attention and we would not give it, we were too afraid of what we would come to know about ourselves.

And so in the Void of this gateway,  with my usual defenses removed,  I find myself falling freely into the maelstrom of my anger, betrayal, resentments, fears...my ambitions, jealousies,  loneliness, unmet dreams.  Not just directed towards any source, but global.  For the World has decided Her time has come.  The tipping point that brings us to a brink- a birth?- is felt in these shock-waves of heavy emotions,  channeled through as as if all of human history is letting out its collective scream.  We betrayed ourselves and we dive deep to find ourselves again. 

It takes a Void to make it happen.  I embrace the knowledge of my Self waiting to be found. 

Micro Runs

 

Marine Corp marathon, the fall after my dad died, 2009.  

There will always be a distance runner in me.

Kenny is not quite 4 months old, and getting so verrrry big…!  I must remind myself that his age is the important factor when attempting to train him on the leash to run.   During the past few weeks, we have gone out after work into my northerly neighborhood streets which give us some nice, relaxed stretch of blocks free of major traffic.  I loop the leash around my shoulder so I have one hand on the lead directly (like training a horse), and he seems to respond well to this soft touch.  Once I warm up a tad (sitting all day in a cold office does not make for good evening runs…) I start a very slow jog and let him trot along beside me.  On a good day he can easily cover a few blocks no problem, except for his ‘distractibility’ level.  On some days EVERYTHING is interesting, even the oil spots on the road!  Other days he seems more in tune with the motion, like I am, and we just trot along comfortably.  Trouble is, between the lack of focus and the heat we never last more than a few miles before every bit of shade becomes a good place for a nice belly-down in the cool grass. (Him, that is, not me! Although it looks like a fine idea at times!)

I have not logged any “real” miles in some time, except for Sundays, and my long runs have turned into ‘medium-sized’, due to my lower level of overall endurance.  If you want to be an endurance/long-distance runner, then you need the miles, there is just no other way to do it.  So cross-training aside, losing my weekday runs under my own solo full-steam has been a worthwhile sacrifice for Kenny.

But something else interesting seems to be happening, as I pile my little micro runs up mornings and evenings.  I have never been this consistent, on a daily basis. I have never been up at sunrise (our morning walk/runs) or out every evening like I have been now.   I may not run ‘real’ miles on my usual schedule, but I AM running EVERY DAY, even if it is in very short bursts. Apparently, I am conditioned enough and these years of running have created a good foundation, a base of ability that can now carry me through these changes.  So when I’m out on the weekends without Kenny, I still do pretty well! And the gods must want me to know this, because I saw a beautiful little article via Facebook that spoke exactly to the theme of running small miles, not big ones, as a key to overall health!

 I feel so bonded, physically and emotionally, with this amazing creature, Kenny, who is a natural athlete and will be a fantastic future runner, since he’ll likely have long legs and a big chest to serve him well out on the roads, no doubt about it.  And there is something magical about having him next to me, trot-trotting along in his own little right-brain bliss, just taking in the world, same as me.  Not talking, not ‘handling’, not training, just moving and grooving along,  taking it all in. 

I tried to re-engineer all this at first:  calling on dog-sitters or gating him back up while I took off on my own.  Trouble was, I have so little time with him around work; my conscience got the better of me when I figured I would just ‘go with it’ as it is and see how it felt.  I had to get over so many of my own deep-seated control issues and prejudices:  the will to be the distance runner in my head, and not the runner in my heart who took on this doggie project by responding spontaneously to the call for adopting a puppy from an abandoned mommy.   We never know how our lives will change when we give birth, adopt (child or animal), marry/separate, but we can trust it WILL change and ferment a new mix of our daily cosmology.  I am still a runner.  I am a different runner now, a different person- with Kenny.

Sevens

A 10k is 6.2 miles.   Seven miles is a very doable distance, with just enough challenge to be considered 'long-ish' by my humble standards, when overall mileage is down- as it has been these days.  Longer than a 5k, about half the half-marathon.  I feel properly 'trained' after a 7-miler, a nice default mode.

I probably covered something like that today, my last day off of the holiday.  On the 'to-do' list:  run, pick up shopping @ WFs, write a blog post.  It's been about 7 weeks since I moved.  All this time a handful of drafts were written on themes of change and new beginnings....managing just one posted in June.  Kenny came since then,  and the entire Solstice season fast transitioning to Beltane, the mid-mark to Fall equinox coming up...the Wheel turns regardless of chaotic weather or Cosmic Re-design;  Mother Nature is undergoing her long birth process, and we can expect nothing but surprise, or miracles....and just when I think I 'got it', and the world Gestalt has opened to me,  fast open the flood gates of the unexpected.

I drove the new Jetta to Whole Foods to stage.  I geared up including hydration belt (always in summer) and my parka just in case.  Every day it's been storming, raining, flooding, lightening....somehow I've lucked out most of the time, and managed a run in between bouts of weather outbursts.  Same today.  looped south on Federal, over Sunrise to pick up Middle River and the lovely quiet residential stretch to 26th.... Taking my leisurely time afterwards for a rare Monday shopping trip for my 7 mile-ish reward of dense calories and the week's food.

Kenny is learning how to run.  At this age (still shy of 3 months) he is so distracted by everything, the stains on the road, the noises...he can hear a dog bark obviously far away.....so I watch him endlessly trying to sift through the stimuli around him.  But with persistence, he will settle into the gait I start on the leash....me in a shuffling lope,  and him syncing up besides me in his puppy stride....a beautiful thing, because I can see the runner in him.  Dogs are such natural athletes.

Monty is giving Kenny some good trainings too.  Establishing the 'pack' order of the house has settled out now, and it's been lovely to see Monty heal from losing Seven, his dog I knew when we first met.  Seven was also a rescue, a mixed something and his loss has cut a deep wound for M all these years.  Kenny's funny, sunny exuberant nature make it impossible not to fall in love with him.  And yes,  a dog can heal so much.

The blogs are full of inspired wisdom on the 7/7/7 today.  July (7), 7th, 2014 (2/14=7).  Signs and symbols are everywhere right now, your signs, mine;  and Great Mother's atmospheric blasts,  Her news with views, for where ever you are now in the world,  great change is upon you too.  Your village is under siege, or assault, or sinking into the sea, the desert, the endless rows of farmland.  Your family was displaced by flood, fire, famine, fear of murder, rape, cultural genocide.  The more that surfaces the more I celebrate the Cleansing of this endless pain, washing and rewashing out the wounds of the Patriarchy upon us all.

I don't know how deep the ETs were to orchestrate such polarizing dharma, because I feel more and more now that it's pointless, this eternal repetition complex we have all resigned ourselves too...THIS TOO is obsolete.  For once, we can step cleanly outside of the mind-fuck that is the patriarchal control-machine.  So it doesn't matter too much to me anymore who orchestrated it all.  They, too, are becoming irrelevant.  The Old Game is over.

Freedom is always the first law because in reality it's already 'Free';  all this other stuff is just our mass hypnosis, our distortion, our attempt to subjugate ourselves somehow, some way into a powerless place.  There's an attraction to staying there too,  it 'seems' as if we have side-stepped all choice and responsibility.  We can build denial higher from the foundations of the prison we have been led into, and remain even though the key is in the lock, in the door.

So here in our displacement of mind, of 'right-mindedness',  of sync with our True Nature and that of the World,  we need mantras to remind us:  FREEDOM IS THE FIRST LAW.  Yes, YOU are free..  YOU too,  can believe what your heart is telling you, it's YOURS- your heart, your soul belongs - no matter what- to only you.  YOU ARE SAFE.  YOU are FREE. 

When you climb the "Seven Story Mountain" you are ascending your own inner chakra/energy system.  Something has called to you for a long time,  and it's something that causes that energy to happen, to travel without obstacle to the fulfillment of you.  Sevens will liberate you in a musical bar; seven days a week,  you are being reminded:  work with that passion, follow that Bliss- something Bigger than us is coming on through.  It will make our Freedom apparent,  it will show us where our Power truly lies.   Today I run my journey and celebrate a path that leads me through the nodes of chaos, putting soft shards of sunshine in my back pocket. 

Many Firsts and Lead up to Solstice

When a road runner like me comes across a new route,  thrilling anticipation is the result- even if the route has a history.  The new beach loop runs part of the same roads used in the Ft. Lauderdale marathon, and by the local runners club when I was training for all that years ago.   Oakland Park was also once my 'cut-through',  driving from Hollywood up to see my parents in the old days...hitting the Whole Foods on Federal.  So having some history here, even while newly arrived, gives me a context for many firsts.

How many?  How long have I ruminated over having my own private practice space:  and finally! My first Saturday clients, listening as they bask in the big easy chair in the back office...the sunlight through the windows, the quiet green of the backyard buffering us from the world.  First drives down to work, forays to neighborhood breakfast places, pizza places, stores of all kinds...first nights and mornings without worrying what nonsense is going on upstairs, or down the catwalks...first evenings sitting out in the yard, writing, drawing or just putzing around.   First visitors.   First storms! 

Crafting new routines is my way of coping with change, and a good strategy overall.  For many folks, leaving ourselves open to the impact of change can cause stress and anxiety.  So after those first few weeks,  I began to find my new rhythm;  waking up early to a niche of sunrise slanting through my window.... running at least several days during the week after work,  finding new loops - and new serenity- through the gorgeous SE neighborhoods.  Scoping out new plantings, artwork, spaces for creating, resting, hanging out...feeling an up-swell of satisfaction and gratitude that all my planning and hard work has brought me here,  my little slice of heaven. 

If you live in my area and feel inspired,  come join me for Summer Solstice on Saturday June 21st. (4-7pm)  We'll hold a circle around my fire-pit and celebrate the Longest Day, the fullness of growth, the gift of Light.

We plant ourselves into the world.  As our roots anchor us,  our branches reach out to find nourishment and communicate with the living atmosphere.  Even a 'transplant' can grow successfully when planted with care...So bring plants or seeds for exchange and a vegetarian dish if you'd like to hang around and share a meal.  Message me for address.  And allow yourself to get into YOUR right mind!

A Birth Story

In 1980,  I lived in an old farmhouse in rural Virginia where I gave birth to my one and only child,  a home birth with a midwife.  The legend of that night contained many strange occurrences:  it was mid-summer and unusually cold.  I had a craving for steak prior to labor.   At 8 centimeters I seemed to get 'stuck' and entered what I can only say was a kind of true transitional zone where I distinctly remember standing by and looking out the bedroom window and feeling like the world was collapsing. 

Pushing through those last centimeters and birth was no doubt the most intense experience of my life.  I often think of it as a primary life metaphor;  feeling the fear of passage, while coming to know that I am stronger and more resilient than I could ever imagine.  Despite it's many sad lessons such as post-partum depression, and the implications for my then husband and son,  the seed of that knowing served me in subsequent challenges, always in a similar way.  It's when I close in on the goal that I tend to collapse.

I found this out in my first marathon,  trying to cross the 18, then 20 mile threshold, when my body felt like giving out.  I remembered it at my last one in DC,  when I was sure I would never make it to the phalanx of marines at the finish line.  In graduate school,  I was a few months shy of completing when my emotional state crumbled.  And in my career,  I point to many a moment when prior to a breakthrough I felt the end was near.

I am going through such a passage now,  before the move.  I have deliberately kept it stirring in my inner cauldron,  watching what has surfaced,  which fears and anxieties belong to me and which ones I inherited from my mother.  Never underestimate the power of ancestral beliefs and emotional patterns to influence us in the present-  it doesn't matter if your loved ones are in this world or not.  The beliefs operate in you like unconscious scripts.  So in this manner I am finding my fear of pressures, chaos, bailing out, in short- disastrous failure and not reaching my goal, poking holes in my otherwise enthusiastic anticipation of what this move is all about.

This is a dark place.  But I am not in fear this time.  I have those memories of finish lines crossed,  degrees hard-earned,  career moving forward and the many client success stories to tell me, my path is working.  I have my son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter all well and wonderful.  I am a healthy elder, ready to embark on the next leg of my journey,  and what I am birthing will be AWESOME!

It's important that we embrace the hard parts of our path,  and understand that EVERYTHING coming up in us is our teaching and guide.  Our wise minds understand how fearful we can become and push us closer into that fire, because the Beneficent Ones wait for us deep in that cauldron of change.  When we can encourage our Selves, like any good Midwife,  by facilitating the Process,  we will move through.  Will we also learn the lessons, and recognize what we needed to leave behind?

I leave my fear of not belonging;  I leave my fear of ending up like my mother,  stuck in a life plan with a life partner that kept her in emotional bondage and sapped her physical strength, of the 'inevitability' of all genetic tendencies to map who and what I am.  I claim the benefits of my dedication to my 'work'- and as I come to crowning I anticipate what is coming as a Beacon,  an Oasis, a Magic Garden where ideas of Beauty and Belonging will grow. 

Sunday Long Run: Checking in with La Mer

I forgot the temps dropped overnight:  by the time I saw morning light,  we were in the 60's, but a clear sky allowed the sun to brighten and warm the air through a chilly breeze.  I drove and staged just east at the new Publix, so I could pick up a few things after,  and ran down Sheridan to pick up the the road to Dania Beach blvd and the long lazy stretch to the beach.  It was just cool enough - but not too chilly for me,  as I tried to get a gait going,  still stiff from Saturday's nice Griffin loop. 

Traffic was light,  and my half-asleep head meandered around the landscape,  the hedgerows along the waterway,  a 'dragon-boat 'with crew heading south as the light sparkled off the intercoastal,  making a pit-stop at Dania Beach before picking it up again down Surf Road.
I'm having nostalgia attacks on these runs-  how many more times on THIS route,  seeing THESE little landmarks I have come to know and cherish all these years living here?  I'm sacrificing many little treasures, as we all must when we move- or change....we all lay down what has become so familiar,  knowing we are picking up new, hidden treasures which wait for us in our new 'place' - whether a home or in our awareness and understanding.

So beneath the nostalgia of losses was excitement, anticipation...the road is leading me....to what?  I have an idea- but there are many new runs in front of me - still to the beach- following meandering side streets -except it won't be my cherished Griffin loop or Dania Beach runs any more. 

There was a charity walk at North Park.  Despite the people traffic, I had an amazing rhythm going as I headed into my last pit-stop and took in the ocean....

watching the quiet colors of morning bleed into air and water while the palms swung in the breeze.   Hollywood gave me my career, my home and a place to help my parents exit this world.  I've packed and sorted the million little items of my life into their boxes and wait now to land in the next place....I inhabit this transitional zone like the beach itself, eroding my old dreams,  disappointments and losses into the wide mouth of the crashing surf, taking it all away to churn up again - with new dreams and ambitions- some place else. 

As I headed back west to the car,  I had more energy and speed than I've felt for some months!  Was I catalyzed by the changes?  Did my feet know more than my head,  pointing themselves with confidence ever forward?  Leaving things,  no matter how hard, will always comes with sadness.  But what I've gained has served me well:  after all,  it was here I became a runner! 

Thank You, Boston- Thank You Mother Earth

 The elite women start first, after the intrepid wheelchair racers.  I couldn't believe my luck:  I found the marathon live-streaming, and as I worked at my desk,  I had the marathon LIVE in real-time, on the tiny screen of my phone, in front of me.

Shalane Flanagan looked great;  she set a fast pace for the women.  But somehow after the mid-way mark, I lost track of her during the business of the unit, and when I got back to it,  Jeptoo,  last year's winner, was out ahead.  Jeptoo with that crazy running style, arms that seem to fly around her,  legs that eat the distance in a record pace....when she crossed the finish I could feel her joy and relief;  2 back to back wins!

Meanwhile,  my man Meb, soon to turn 39 and old for a marathoner, stayed true to his mission:  start strong and stay in the lead...which he did mile after amazing mile....not only that but at one point putting more than a minute between him and everyone else trying to catch him, including Ryan Hall.
Meb was a study in grace and beauty;  straight up,  relaxed,  seeming to glide off the pavement, the hills, whatever the course offered.  Meb had been close to wins before.  Clearly,  despite the attempts of the 2nd man closing in on him,  he was going to cross that line in front.  I cheered, I shared;  I'm sure my staff thought I was a little nuts.  For an hour or so I forgot about work and desks and clients.  I was a runner celebrating big wins!!

When I ran on Sunday, I took the big Griffin loop and forgot the stores would be closed for Easter.  So I ran it all in one long lazy stretch, reveling in the beautiful cool temps and quiet streets,  feeling tired but full of hope and anticipation for the Boston runners.  When you are a turtle,  a wanna-be, and all your heroes are great athletes,  you must not compare yourself too much.  Watching elite runners fulfill my own fantasies of flight on foot was enough.  I was filled with my own joyous passion! 

Tonight,  after work,  I made sure to honor Mother Earth day with a beautiful little out and back,  basking in the strong sun contrasting with just a hint of coolness to the air, as we sink into the evening hours.  Everything is in motion.  It's enough to keep pace with whatever life asks of us,  on our slow days or at the height of our racing powers, with full steam ahead!  For once I can just enjoy the journey to wherever I happen to be going.

With Her.  Our Mother, Gaia. 

Mile by Mile, the Road Rolls On

The eve of Pesach,  the lunar eclipse and the anniversary of the Boston marathon bombing brought a strange significance to the skies.  Lately it seems as if pearly luminescence is dripping through the filaments of clouds in creative chaos.  It seemed a miracle that despite the stormy weather hovering around, there would be clear skies for eclipse viewing

So my night began early and was punctuated by a distinct dimming in moonlight through the back windows, telling me it was time.  Stiff legged from my 3 day running stretch, I stumbled around for my clothes even though I'd set them out....grabbed the phone/camera and started on the back porch- another miracle, for there was the moon,  perched right in my eye-line, hung like a pearl with the diamond stars glittering around.  And best of all, in the background I could hear the hoot hoot of the little burrowing owl, who apparently roosts at night in the tree, singing. 

When I realized the eclipse was in full swing,  I took off downstairs and planted myself in the middle of the common area,  the owl in her tree just to my right, the moon straight above, showing its rusty red as it continued to dim lower.

I was surrounded by apartment buildings and security lights, and everywhere I felt the press of people unaware of it all.  If I looked only up,  it was easy to imagine my proximity to all this heavenly beauty,  up close, swinging with the stars between the forces of planetary impulses, and the leveling plane of solar opposition:  enough to drown out the whole moon.

It was the color of menstrual blood, a rich rusty red.  The rush of primal understanding was below words.  And I liked it that way.  I haven't written here very consistently lately.  The move is underway!! and as so much continues to reveal and situate itself,  my ability to take it mile by mile is paying off big time.  I stood in the yard last night and felt a sweet nostalgia for the length of time it has taken us to get here;  this strange Cosmic pivot point, turning point,  while feeling that very soon,  whatever is about to take place is more wondrous than anything we could imagine.

Suddenly I am ok not trying to find the words.  Sometimes its ok to just go with the flow, and take it mile by mile- tonight I ran through the storms,  but another day its clear skies all the way.  the Road Rolls on.

New Moon in Aries: Running with Passion

The week began with signs and wonders,  while celestial forces keep shifting and rebalancing Spring into a kaleidoscope of beauty....sudden rainstorms and amazing rainbows....

clouds climbing high into the skies, captured on a few week-day runs,  amazing because despite some high winds (and therefore wind resistance on the roads),  I felt strong and capable this week.  The sheer energy and excitement of rolling up March into Aries, my birth month, with the advent of so much change upon me,  was unstoppable.  Nothing in my mind (beliefs about limitations) or heart (weariness of the struggle) could dampen that.

It seemed the skies themselves kept showing me that nothing remains permanent except our attachments...watch long enough and the atmosphere changes- always- and what looks like solid cloud cover,  stormy weather,  brick walls of all sorts will morph....opening up our Vision into something deeper than before (if we let it).

So waking up Sunday to overcast skies did not dampen my enthusiasm.  I put on my gear and began a nice long Griffin loop completely oblivious to my body,  which put itself into a slow rhythm as I rounded off the overpass and headed up 29th.  Ravenswood-  still felt my head 'somewhere else' as the stiff winds blew around me down the quiet streets....and again,  so consistent was my rhythm,  I did not stop after Publix, but kept right on going,  one foot in front of the other until home.  I realize now what a gift all this is:  with my body in sync I can put all my enthusiasm into the move and the manifestation of the next 'Ricci place'....the house/garden/office/studio which will support my creative, professional and personal dreams.  Like every run,  patience and trust is essential.  Over 10 years now in the condo- and running- and slowly building my resources to become stable and strong.  Dreams sometimes percolate long times...and ask of us to find our Hope,  to sustain us while the Universe conspires in our best interest.  If we Trust the Process,  we may find ourselves rounding out from a particularly long effort finding just what we wanted all along:  the chance to unfurl ourselves like a flag and fly our colors, be our true Selves,  be at Home within. 

Spring Equinox Portal: Benevolence and Hope

She woke me from a long night of dreaming,  then veiled my memories of it all,  while whispering in my ear, "it's dawn,  let's go run! You can do it, you're rested!"  And even though I had 'planned' a bit of a sleep-in before running,  as much to catch the sun as anything else,  I couldn't ramp down my own excitement.  Every time is still like an expedition from childhood:  I'm about to go out into the world, on my own feet, and explore.  The skies looked overcast,  weather said clearing.  I took one over-shirt for an early chill,  and headed out the door.

She gives me constant encouragement.  Lately, the sound of my nay-sayer is beginning to feel ridiculous;  a repository of ancient fears and beliefs that keep rising through the surface of my thoughts like noxious vapors;  wrinkling my nose against their assault on my person,  my capabilities, my dreams.

I adjusted my Flows,  and threw up some leg stretches on the steps on my way towards the road.  I don't know where this energy is coming from,  but She nudges me, "look up"

to see the half-hidden pearl of a moon and a sudden knowing, "there is always so much more....to see...to be...."   Taking off for a run always holds anticipation and questions:  I ran last at the beach for Equinox;  I've been working on leg exercises, however.  How will I do? 
Yesterday I listened to Lewis Wolpert, an English cell scientist in his late 80's talk about aging.   How many examples of artists, writers, musicians, scientists live and work all their lives?  Compelled by desire and mission and beauty....coming to each day like I did today,  with Her voice in their ear saying "wake up!  Creation awaits!"

I did my warm-up walking past the sleepy park and catching just a sliver of rising sun off the canal, as I rounded off the overpass into Emerald Hills.  There has been a lot of magic to this place;  will I find my next "great running neighborhood" as nice as this has been?  Living humbly on the fringe of a better neighborhood has been a boon, for sure!  Week in and week out I have watched the landscape of many beautiful houses,  passed the lovely parks, woven through back alleys and around the waterways of North Hollywood. 

And fallen in love with skies.   Sometimes I wonder if its a way to connect with Michael,  who gets his clouds up close and personal in the glider. 

And whether skies are another metaphor for a Great Reaching into something far away from my daily concerns.

The streets were quiet,  a few runners and walkers filtering through the same side streets while I crossed Stirling to catch 40th north praying all the stray dogs were asleep....keeping an eye on my feet on the uneven sidewalks...surprising myself with a nice steady gait thus far,  adjusting my breathe and coming up to Griffin...

 There is an empty lot at that corner.  Suddenly the whole sky opened like a Great Fan over me,  like Wings, or the soft veils of Heaven following hidden channels of light from the sun to cover the landscape with the peace of Sunday.  I start up the Griffin stretch with light traffic on the road, heading east into the sun. 

I'm not one prone to 'joy' in the traditional sense.  More the contemplater;  the 'bridge' of things, not necessarily embroiled in things themselves.  Once more, however, as another part of this Equinox portal,  joy has come to me and for no real reason.  And so I found myself heading past my 35th St. cut-down towards my Publix pit-stop feeling light on my feet, with every past race and run in my vocabulary,  infusing this run with strength, knowledge and confidence.  I wasn't a runner until 10 years ago.  I couldn't run down the block.  Now I was halfway into a sold 10-12 miler, feeling fine,  absorbing the gorgeous air skimming my bare arms with bliss in my soul.

Dr. Wolpert said he still jogs, stating something like 'I'm very slow and you walking could pass me, but I do it anyway"- so true! Seeing myself somewhere out there, a little old gal moving slow but sure down some beautiful road.  Winding down, I broke into a walk for a nice cool-down past the park,  the trees glowing in bright spring green in the morning light.

She is throwing me a parade and patting me on the back,  thrilled for my triumph - I have made it back from my great expedition!  Inside all of us is a Great Nay-Sayer and a Benevolent Guide, a Coach, our highest self.  Each of them embodies the disillusionment of innocence lost in this hard world,  or Eternal Hope,  the certainty of growth, change and moving forward, guided either by our Consciousness Awareness or self-sabotaging slumber.  If we choose to stay asleep we become the expression of our worst cynicism.  It is all too much, not enough,  and someone else's fault. 

Luckily for us,  Great Mother has it all in hand.  ALWAYS looking out for us,  She is busy now,  planting Her spring seeds, making sure there is a proper ground for germination.  There is a Big Harvest ahead!  We have incubated these dreams for a very long time.  She knows the hardships of waiting, or harsh winters,  feels the scars on Her belly from the destructive hand of humankind disengagement.  Singing to us now,  waking us from winter while absorbing, assimilating and ultimately throwing off what will not bear fruit,  She is ruthless in her truth, in Life and Death balance.  Just as aging brings us face to face with our self-management, the scope of our optimism or discord,  and asks us to what lengths we will go to maintain our right relationship with our lives.

I say let's go for Hope.  There is no number or limit to that.  You don't even need to believe.  Just look up and see what the skies are telling you.  Somewhere in all that moving kaleidoscope of color and light is a mirror, a benevolent reflection of you....a part of you saying, "YOU are amazing, beautiful, strong, limitless.  Well done! keep it moving! There is more to create, to see... and be. Do what brings you joy, and be the beautiful being you are. "

My Moving Meditation

It felt strange to attempt a sleep-in; by the time I realized I might as well get up,  good ol' iphone revealed I already lost an hour.  Got into my gear,  with a light windbreaker for cool air, and headed out past the park, the sun already cresting trees.  Still breaking in the new Flows,  and recovering nicely between some decent runs.  Surprised at my own resiliency in the midst of all the high drama at work.  The gods clearly conspired to give me a breather, however.  Yesterday clients canceled, and today, no quarters for laundry.  I have a personal policy to always, if at all possible have 1 day NOT to go anywhere, not to drive.  Driving is very stressful for me, and I am a bad commuter.  I drive like I'm maneuvering through a pack of runners...but I digress. 

Warm-up walk to my start point up the road, curving around and through quiet Emerald Hills to pick up the big Griffin loop and a few areas I haven't seen in a while.  My pace, which waxed and waned for a while, seemed to relax into it's own steady rhythm, and the shoes clearly helped;  I could gather those moments,  like precious pearls,  when I forgot I was running and lost track of 'self' while I was clearly entirely focused on ideas, things in my mind.  Amazing though I always seem to notice the landscape.  Is it an automatic pilot? Learned muscle memory?  If you are a good enough runner,  can you just forget about 'the run' and use it as a platform for other experiences?

My jacket was off within a mile,  the chill air tickling the warm surface of my skin, heated by the sun.  Even in so-called winter,  the sun in south Florida is always warm.  Somewhere I heard that humans are ideally suited to an environment between 70-90, moist and warm,  where life flourishes...welcome to SoFlo.  Solar medicine, as I think of it, is also my anti-depressant, my Vitamin D.  I am moving along at my turtle's pace,  thinking of nothing and everything going on,  and being healed on so many levels, in so many mysterious ways.

Fab pit-stop at Publix,  back on the roads, cruising through the trailers and back around to my neck of the woods,  patting myself on the back for 'job well done.' 

I was rewarded with the gentle nudge Mother Nature seems to give me when I'm outside,  to notice something or other;  and as I approach the park,  the light came bouncing through the southern oaks and begged for picture-taking....resplendent with happy light, refracting down the spanish moss, reaching out to embrace me, congratulate me, thank me for noticing.  Yes, as I begin my walking/cool down,  where ever I find myself,  there is a moment of astonished satisfaction, and as if all Air, all Light, all gravity, earth, spiritual forces propelled me along and celebrate my accomplishment.  As good as any finish line.  My moving meditation. 

On the New March

All the facets of our lives are 'showing up.'  The more truth/light is shed on things, (into?) the more of whatever we have not faced emerges.  This is true for healing on the individual level,  group level and of course, multinationally as we are seeing in mainstream news.  We prayed for this, folks.  In our tumultuous course of change,  let's not forget that we, ourselves, asked for the 'revolution', and heard a Call to Mend the Golden Hoop as Mello said.   The Hoop is us.  And only we can recognize the problem and address it.

I ran both Saturday and Sunday,  up on the Griffin loop.  After seeing clients on Saturday and making my way through the landmines (land-minds) of the week at work,  I needed to reconnect with the roads.  My body protested through every bit of the first 2-3 miles until I rounded out onto Ravenswood and felt my gait open up on the long stretch to Park.  When I woke on Sunday,  clear skies greeted me with a warming sun carried on cool winds.  The Saturday run woke up the muscles for Sunday.   I was tired but loose as I started out up 29th. 

I followed my inner prompt for something challenging enough to work out the usual aches and pains,  heading on after my pit-stop down 35th and once again finding a pace to open up,  relax my arms, and get my head out of my anxieties and into the rhythm.  Sometimes it is just when I hit the middle of a particularly tough stretch that I find the groove, physical and mental, that ends the endless inner conversation, and pulls me completely into my body.  Mental chatter gone,  the rush of air, the warmth of the morning sun and the sights of landscape came fully to me:

and opened up to me like packages of miraculous delight.  I walked the last mile or so,  but my head was on straight,  I hummed with the tunes....and my body had the good feeling of a solid workout.

What I'm going through lately,  like everyone else,  is a ramping up towards Spring Equinox and whatever 'surprises' or changes the fates have in store for Planet Earth.  Each of us, it seems, responds to our higher Calling as the imperative to plant new dream seeds,  and set out on the New March towards our changes, is acknowledged.

Mello used this phrase often in 1990.  We ARE on the New March,  not just the month of March, which is itself a 'new' kind of turning point in our history/herstory,  but 'marching' together in our unified field of spiritual evolving....awake- or half-aware- of the demands these changes ask of us.

If you are feeling 'victimized' by these pressures,  I invite you into Mother Nature's arms:  get into YOUR right mind with HER and allow the gentle comfort of every natural element connect with your deepest mind,  instructing,  comforting, loving the physical creature you are feeling your way into this New World emerging.  Then get honest with who you are.  We cannot plant the new seeds in old earth which has not been turned, fed, prepared.  YOU are the fertile ground from which YOUR dreams will spring!  WE are on this New March together,  collecting all the elements that go with us on our next journey, and leaving behind the anger, blame and self-condemnation for 'past failures.'  When we realize Gaia uses ALL of us, even the 'bad' parts in our Cosmic Compost,  maybe we can relax a bit, get into the groove, the rhythm, and let our Highest Instincts takes us where we need to be.  It may be hard at first, but we have held these dream seeds all along, deep in our hearts.  They are part of a Good Future that was already born,  looking for us NOW. 

We are on the New March. 

Emergence-See

When I give myself a day off running,  like I did today,  I tend to fight through a round of initial feelings;  guilt that I'm not running ("Marlon is...."wink), relief that I DO get a break, trepidation that in a day I will lose my ability, endurance, strength.  Irrational sure, but that is the way of our strange and out-dated beliefs.  In fact, from a viewpoint of true connectivity,  of listening to my body,  alternating run days is a wise idea.  I may have fantasies of being an uber runner my self.  And I STILL maintain that with everything in working order I CAN.  But that time, apparently is now right now.  Even with 'NOW' being the only moment there is...That's a homage to the Shift we are in.  A reminder that every aspect of this experience 'runs' concurrently.  So there is a part of me basking in the late afternoon air and light as I sit at my back windows.  The picture is my view o the left of my little sanctuary,  the porch.  Notice the spinach in the container; there is also an avocado and papaya tree (thanks Mike F for that great find). 

Another part of me scans my stiff, achy body and knows a good little run would feel great (afterwards..haha),  and is the part inducing guilt...come on,  you could if you just would.  It's an easy out to have a 'rest day'....Marlon is out there on the trails today.  Have you figured out my cyber runner bud Marlon is my running hero?  And of course Dean K.  And Crash who dips and dives into running with open abandon.  Or Jim who will run the ultra and clear the trails too. 

And yet another me is trying to come to terms with aging itself, and this deep need for rest!  Wow, how my parents morphed into me, or me to them.  My father really tried to stay active in elder years.  He golfed, he liked walking malls etc....Maybe mom not so much.  But I protest this inevidability with every ounce of resistance.  And often I wonder if I waste a lot of energy.  Look at many great artists, writers etc etc who stay creative and active, look at the Dalai Lama.  He is mid-70's, like Vitae was.  70's are killer years!  Look at Mello, post 100.  That says it all.

There is no doubt that behind all this some new version of us is emerging.  Sometimes I feel it is so new I'm not sure to even reference my past much any more.  I test my every thought for hypotheses that have run their course.  Such presumptions we have as people;  the record shows for itself that reckless abandon,  in the context of divine imperatives,  are the reality.  For we may anticipate, maybe even be prophetic - but whatever will unfold is still just that next moment on the road,  and still as unpredictable, as new as the next moment truly is.  It's 'the will of the gods' as I like to think, when suddenly I 'sync' my way into the run, or the inspiration at work is available for me. Or conversely when I surf the waves of chaos that could take me, or any of us down- into shamanic descent, or hell our choice I guess.   The intersection of so many energies, changes, shifts and pressures is no joke.  We may bask in our routines, or even our tired desperations.  But I keep feeling that whatever is stuck on us now is about to be flung off and away like the chrysalis.  There are major wings to be spread.  The Shift is gonna hit that fan.

When you are out and about ask the world to reveal itself to you.  Not the traffic, the radio, the time crunch.  See what the light is doing around you, and how the atmosphere, the winds, cold, moisture, the trees adds, like a color,  an instrument to the canvas/chorus of your day.  THAT is where Spirit is trying to reach you,  past the cacophony.  Mother Nature is talking to you, coaxing YOU, the real you out of hiding, from behind the old beliefs, and all the distraction.  There is a New World emerging.  Be part of it's grand and conscious unfolding.

Adaptation

When I hit the roads yesterday after work,  the skies were crystal clear.  Beautiful bright Sol was streaming down, painting the clouds in their late day colors.   As I walked out for a short Griffin loop, I only had about a good hour or so of daylight.  I put a little jog on as I began my cut through the quiet streets (holiday for others), and headed through the trailers, up the over pass, through Ravenswood, and headed south again on Park.  Running after work is a considerable challenge, oh yes.  All day using my body to support my head constantly looking at computers,  listening to people...my respite is running through the hallways to find person A or B....(like I did on my old unit, 'running' up and down our corridors for clients).  So you can imagine, when I ask my body to really RUN I get protests.   I get a creaky, tight short gait; I get a "wha???" from my feet, my legs, my hips.  It feels like I am back in my early running days when going several blocks,  a mile, 2 miles was such a triumph!  The difference?  I can tell I am a 'real' runner because my breath is good,  I really do not tire-  it's always my legs/feet/hips that give way eventually to walking my way home.


By the time I rounded out past the park,  the evening clouds had wandered in like parked airships pointed towards the sunset, morphing colors as the daylight bled out to evening.  I felt that coolish air filling my lungs, and the painted sky luring me deeper into endless wonder:  how did I manage to find a place on this planet where climate is a boon, not a bother?  Where everyone else seems to struggle against winter, floods, volcanoes and earthquakes- every imaginable condition.... we bask in the warmth, the heyday of sub-tropical splendor!

My office has no windows.  I hole myself up in my role as co-boss, and channel my creative skills into the endless series of projects and interactions that seem to make up my day,  just a few steps removed from the grand Out-of-Doors.  Running is still-and always- my way back into Mother Nature, and I can tell She misses me!!  Our love affair continues in different circumstances and timing, but our passion always runs deep!

Many of my uber runner friends continue to race and rack up impressive distances and times, while some like me struggle with adaptations.  I put myself out there to get the support I need to help keep my motivation from failing me altogether.  And you are there,  my friends, my family who follow all this running drama,  you who know it is not just some exercise routine.  It is my life-saver,  my meditation,  so much a part of my spiritual path it has been with me in some form (long expeditions into wherever) since childhood. 

So if you are struggling to adapt to 'new things',  as I know many are,  I prescribe a trip out into the arms of Gaia, on your own two feet.  Take yourself out for a date with Nature and notice the amazing skies,  the trees waving at you on the wind,  and most of all, absorb that beautiful light which grows in strength every day as we grow closer to Cosmic Mother and Her Galactic signals.  Show YOUR true colors today and shine!

The Gods/Goddesses Speak

(written 1-30-14)
Catching up  to my Self and Cosmic unfoldings;  M flares, plate movements, amazing weather extremes...uncovering the ancient histories, the real truth of how we were all duped, complicit, into, and emerging from the Matrix.

Meanwhile, shifting through the portal of personal changes.  I honor the Teachers I am leaving behind, while I step into the Golden Rays of opportunity for becoming who I am meant to be, and the amazing culmination/continuation of all my experiences,  all the diverse skills, under a new moniker "The Communicator."  Watching the back stories, agendas, subconscious scripts, vulnerabilities, disabilities, eruptions, redemption, possibilities....It's just another big 'ol stump of beautiful wood, an ancient tree, poking through the riverbed.  Embedded within hides a new potential, the shape, the form seeking it's expression (wood carving days.....).  And I 'know' the way in to reveal it.  I know how to 'see' what that emerging/organizing pattern(s) are. 

Often I actually DO blank out the 3D world and SEE these torus-like patterns;  and when my focus is really sharp it is very clear.  This is the case with my clients, and to my great relief it appears to be the case on the new job as well.  A powerful, intuitive tool which enables me to connect to the inner 'structure,' the 'flow' and help shape it to help reveal the inherent (beautiful) outcome. (Remembering 'beauty' is beyond our judgment- beauty is the 'necessity' of the material world...)

Personally I want and prefer to believe that my own Self is inherently capable,  just like all  else, of organizing itself.  After all, I am ALL/ALL is me.  However,  as Self asks for my cooperation,  then I am compelled,  in day-to-day life,  to do all I can to enhance it's efforts!  What else?!  Why would I want to hinder the expression of a 'Highest/Best' outcome,  a Win/Win?  And yet I see people do this all the time, and I am called upon to help them AUGMENT, not sabotage,  their own inherent healing/growing/becoming/blossoming process.

I have the skills now.  THIS (whatever 'THIS' is),  is a 'special assignment.'  And this mission,  which I decided to accept with Mello and the Sun Temple but really accepted many years before that, is about finding the way in to reveal and support  the inherent organizing patterns, the Growth seeking HIGHEST/best expressions...in the very midst of The System,  and bust it wide open....(grin).

(written 2-1-14)
When I finished out the work week yesterday, and my first month on the new job,  the weather was kind enough to clear out and give me a gorgeous sunset to follow westward as I looped out and back, and a great excuse to capture the whole visual experience in pix.  In fact,  after 3 or 4 miles done,  my initial 'umph' petered out, so I walked most of the way back turning constantly to catch the next shot, as I headed east.  I felt the 'trance state' that is my 'surrender' into Mother Nature's artistic expressions....I 'insert' myself;  I 'see' those patterns and colors weaving and morphing through their sequence from daylight to evening.  I forgot about running...I was moving through the descent of darkness and the mystery of Night.

I see it as Power,  as Passage.  I was near tears over many aspects of what we are all going through.  And they were not just tears of sadness;  after all leave-taking, even from our old Selves, or what we hold dear, is never easy.  I caught too the ecstasy,  the bliss of feeling ONE with what I saw and where I was,  moving steadily through my run/walk and the electric air, through the fading light.  Suddenly I was not anything BUT this beauty. 

 This is the gift ART has given me in my life.  Mother Nature schooled me.  I am still and always Her devoted local representative.  And on this, another bench mark day (Imbolc), I give homage to Her Wisdom.  I am grateful beyond all measure to hold a piece of the Puzzle in my own two hands. 

Transformative Forces at Work

Late last week I caught this unusual sunset 'rainbow' just as the light was leaving the skies,  the synchronicity of circumstances that had to come about to create such a sight in itself a marvel.  How often does one see something like it??  In the midst of solar winds and what one source calls the arrival of the Cosmic Pulse from the center of our galaxy, magical sights and transformations are afoot.

I did not run Friday or Saturday;  my right hip and leg once again protested against my will to overcome.  I wondered if I'd strained a ligament,  had a stress fracture-  the movement in my leg became so limited... so when I donned my gear Sunday for a long run I wondered what I could accomplish, hobbling out the door and past the park,  'scanning' my body to ascertain what was not fitting properly where....

I headed for a normal Griffin loop (not too small, not too big), and switched into a slow lope,  the kind a wolf or dog might adopt to cover the ground- slowly and relaxed- while the discomfort moved from my backside to my hip to my thigh, knee and finally ankle.  I walked,  I slowed,  I kept on going....the more circulation,  the more I could feel moving parts ease, like the Tin Man and his oil,  until even my ankle protested less and less....The sun was shockingly bright and warm after a week of late forays....the air filling my lungs like a sweet balm,  as I consciously took in all the light of life into my body, and breathed out the distortions, stuck thoughts, painful beliefs lodged in those defensive positions. 

Later,  after I settled into the porch with my colors, surrounded by the bright light of midday and the forest of plants,  I let that Cosmic Pulse come to me, and felt it reach through the swirl of space to find us,  the little blue dot,  the pearl of Mother Earth, undergoing our historic transformation.  The most powerful things are sometimes the 'invisible ones'....energies unseen which nevertheless are felt.  And as we find ourselves overtaken in this cosmic embrace,  the divine feminine in us senses instinctively that our 'birth' is underway.

My pain subsided greatly after my healing run.  Just so,  as we allow the healing work of Mother Gaia to entrain our Selves with Her,  we synch with the Galactic songs that themselves were birthed from a farther point,  a more central sun....a Multi-verse of possibility that has our redemption in hand.   Somehow,  more than ever,  I feel the certainty of our arrival in something brand new.  If my cells can feel it,  and my heart,  then surely I can 'translate' this to my daily world.  I pray to do just that.