 Some of us feel it—the quiet stirrings that life can be deeper, more luminous, more whole. This season of thin veils and growing darkness invites deeper listening for those seed dreams that wait on the mysterious edges of our lives.
 As the light shifts, the air cools, and the days draw inward here in Oregon, I’ve been listening closely to what the body teaches about how to find the Goldilocks zone in letting go of the extraneous fluff while keeping the flame burning for the gritty work of showing up for the projects that resonate with the blueprint of the soul's ambition.
 We’ve just come through such an intense eclipse portal — and I want to pause to say: congratulations. We made it through!
 We are standing inside an eclipse portal — a threshold moment where what has been gestating beneath the surface is now pressing to be born.
 I am going to keep today's post brief, as I am deep in some honeybee medicine right now, nursing a swollen arm after a sting that led to a massive inflammatory reaction.
 "Do not look away. Do not avert your gaze. Do not turn aside."
~Joanna Macy, the teaching of Buddha Akshobhya's mirror  I’ve just returned home to Oregon from a pilgrimage to the Teton Mountains — six days of camping, conversation, and deep immersion in a mastermind for wellness professionals. It was a journey that stretched my body and soul: driving 12 hours alone, hiking in high altitude, trusting others to help me care for my body’s needs, and engaging in days of rich dialogue with peers and mentors building thriving, soul-centered communities like ours.
 There are moments on the path when we can no longer walk by effort or logic alone. When the maps we’ve drawn start to blur. When the way forward doesn’t look clear, but the pull inside our body is unmistakable. It’s the pull of soul.
 This past Friday, as thunder rolled through the night and rain swept over the juniper and sagebrush, I found myself wrapped in an anticipatory quiet—appreciating the way nature’s rhythms always supersede the plans of humans (fireworks included). There’s something humbling and holy about remembering -
 We have just crossed through the Summer Solstice portal.
Here in Oregon it was windy, cold and rainy, quite suddenly, for a couple of days, right when the sun was at his zenith. A friend of mine, with whom I spent the weekend doing ceremony in the forest, said that in some stories the sun is the child of the rain god and the earth goddess. |
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