Does Anyone Read My Blog??

Are you out there? Are you here now? I would love to know. While I truly do write for myself (my tag line is, afterall, "I write to discover what I know."), it is affirming and inspiring to know you are here with me. Many of my friends give little hints that they have visited and say "keep writing," but being someone who loves the printed word, I would be honored if you would take a moment and click on that little comment box at the bottom of this entry (or any entry) and simply say "I was here." You can do it anonymously or be brave and give your name. Either way, it will bring a little joy to my day as I hope Lucy can bring to yours.

Home

"Home is where the heart is and thus a movable feast." --author unknown

art by Muriel Taylor, La Cruz

January almost gone. The first month of the new year. It was an amazing month. In some ways it seems like it has flown by but in many ways it has filled a lifetime. I was only in Seattle, my home, for a few days, yet I felt more "home" than ever. Home to me speaks of being connected to myself--connected to my soul. Home is where Lucy lives. Lucy of the light.

I experienced lightness and freedom among friends. Beautiful times of communion and fellowship with my family. I witnessed miracles and life with women I recently met, yet believe I have known for a lifetime. Beginnings of life. Endings of death. Ice breaking and floes starting to move. Coyotes howling. Dolphins dancing. Freedom.

These are the memories and miracles I must hold onto as the busyness of life tries to squeeze in and a new day begins. My friend, Gibran, speaks to me again:

"For that which is boundless in you abides in the mansion in the sky, whose door is the morning mist, and whose windows are the songs and silences of night."

Heroes Are Born

"It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare; it is because we do not dare that they are difficult."
-- Seneca


I am a blessed woman for I have spent the last five days witnessing miracles beyond imagination.

Miracles abound.
I watched the sun rise while the stars still played in the heavens.
I heard coyotes howl in the distance and laughed to see deer dancing across my path.
I saw frightened women lean into fear.
Beautiful songs emerged from dead hearts.
Velveteen rabbits became real.
Bent over women stood tall in their beauty.
New and golden stars shined with all their might.
A monster melted into a bundle of joy.
Heroes were born.
Golden women emerged from the womb.
Miracles abound.

I am blessed and thankful beyond comprehension. Thank you, God. Thank you, Friends. Thank you, Soltura.

On Friends

And let your best be for your friend.
If he must know the ebb of your tide, let him know its flood also.
For what is your friend that you should seek him with hours to kill?
Seek him always with hours to live.
For it is his to fill your need, but not your emptiness.
And in the sweetness of friendship let there be laughter, and sharing of pleasures.
For in the dew of little things the heart finds its morning and is refreshed.

--Kahlil Gibran "The Prophet"

For a closer glimpse into the hours lived among friends on the Georgia J, visit the Captain's post.

Re-Entry

The Joy that isn’t shared, I’ve heard, dies young.
-Anne Sexton, The Awful Rowing Toward God


The ebb and flow of life.
Expansion and contraction.
Opening up and closing in.
Warming of heart and chilling of soul.
Hanging on and letting go.
Sunshine and snow.
Laughter and tears.
Contradiction and clarity.
Finding so much joy that it cannot be expressed.
Bursting with life and burying treasures.


Re-entry is a hard thing. To go from sunshine and blue seas to grayness and snow in only a matter of hours is a hard transition. In the past few days I have found myself ebbing and flowing as I re-enter my Seattle life. One moment I swell with joy and gratitude over the life giving time away, and the next, I am filled with sadness because I am stuck in traffic on a rain soaked highway.

How shall I incorporate my new fullness into today’s life? I am reminded of the tiny hermit crab I watched on the rocky beach at Isla Isabella. She painstakingly worked to carry her new found home from one place to the next. It was hard going, but she labored well. It seems to me that this will be my task, too—to take the joy (the home) so easily found in paradise and pull it across a sometimes rocky (or snowy) path so that heaven resides wherever I am.

I will start with the small, like the tiny crab, and see what blossoms in the days to come.

Still

Oh winter, you are here, but my heart still plays in the sun.
His rays have kissed me deeply & now warm my soul as the frost nips at my nose.

Coming Home

Georgia J--my home away from home

I am home. I am humbled and in awe for words cannot describe the past two weeks spent with God, with friends, with the holiness of laughter and the splendor of nature. The time was simple and magnificent--the air, the sea, the sky. Birds, whales, crabs and dolphins--from the immense to the miniscule--the beautiful and the awful. God's magnificent pallet. I chose to breathe it in and soak it up. My heart flushed with desire and amazement. The sun kissing my body and leaving me to feel like a wonderful, endearing child. Whispers of love from the world surrounding me. Moonlight on a dark ocean. Sun bursting forth in new day. Songs and dancing. Hard work and moonlit showers. Kisses of summer warmth and blossoms of spring in the midst of winter. It is a gift for which I am eternally grateful. A life of simplicity. T-shirts and shorts. Clean scrubbed face protected with sunscreen. Simple food tasting like an elaborate banquet. Conversations and laughter. Dancing and dreaming. God feeling near. Each day a prayer answered.

dancing blue crab
blue-beaked, red-footed friend