Fresh Air.

"Sometimes, I need only to stand wherever I am to be blessed."

-Mary Oliver

#aftertherain #poetryinmotion

Trailblazer.

"Here's the truth that you have to wrestle with: the reason that art (writing, engaging, leading, all of it) is valuable is precisely why I can't tell you how to do it. If there were a map, there'd be no art, because art is the act of navigating without a map. Don't you hate that? I love that there's no map."

-Seth Godin, Linchpin: Are You Indispensable?

When I saw this at Point Reyes, I went the opposite way. #trailblazer

The Type-A part of me that secretly loves structure and to-do lists and schedules to follow is constantly at odds with the artist/creator side of myself that loves the words freedom and flow and feels stifled by timelines and objective goals.

It's all about balance, I suppose. I'm learning this on a daily basis- that there is always more than one way to approach a problem, to find another solution, to course-correct and overcome the inevitable obstacles that present themselves on the path. I'm learning to let go of what I've trusted (structure), and navigate without a map. 

It's hard. But here's the honest truth- I was never good at reading maps anyways.

Trudging Along.

Spotted on the stairs of Berkeley Bowl West.
Advice for both life and writing.

"So when we write and begin with an empty page and a heart unsure, a famine of thoughts, a fear of no feeling- just begin from there, from that electricity. This kind of writing is uncontrolled, is not sure where the outcome is, and it begins in ignorance and darkness. But facing those things, writing from that place, will eventually break us and open us to the world as it is. Out of this tornado of fear will come a genuine writing voice." 

-Natalie Goldberg, Writing Down the Bones: Freeing the Writer Within

Arranging the Pieces.

"Arrange whatever pieces come your way." -Virginia Woolf

Diving into the steamy pool as the clock hits 6am means only one thing- my writing time (morning pages) and meditation have been shifted even earlier, to an ungodly hour that starts with a 4. But I've been consistently doing both of these long enough in the morning to understand their inherent value, and skipping any one of the two, or even both (gasp!) is unthinkable. I'm thankful I've developed them into my morning routine that they are now as habitual as brushing my teeth and lotioning up after a shower.

I'm listening, a lot. Propped up with my pillow behind my back, legs crossed, with sleepy eyes and the covers shrouding my open palms, I'll just breathe. In. Out. In. Out. I find it interesting how ideas will just drop into me, stay for awhile. And I'll notice them, tuck them away, and focus again on my breath. In. Out. In. Out.

From a bird's eye view of the past few months, I am fascinated how people, situations, and opportunities have emerged in the most exciting and creative of ways. Lots of pieces, different shapes and colors and textures, and here I am taking whatever it is that shows up in my life, and arranging it in such a way that best fulfills my dharma in this big and beautiful world.

It would be just as easy to take those same pieces and say, "It's impossible," or "I can't do that," or blame the economy, other people, or come up with a million different excuses to keep myself from fulfilling my destiny. But perhaps it's the inner artist in me that sees these independent pieces and wants to fit them together in a creative and meaningful way- one that will ultimately be of service to those around me.

This same approach applies in the kitchen. Yesterday I looked at the kabocha squash resting on the counter, noticed the kale in the fridge staring me straight in the eyes, the $3 organic red bell pepper begging me not to go to waste, and the forbidden black rice greeting me as I opened my top cupboard door. So I took those pieces and arranged them together in one of the most delicious meals.

Roasted kabocha squash stuffed with forbidden black rice, wild rice, kale, onions,
red bell peppers and shiitake mushrooms.

How are you arranging the pieces in your life?

Second Chances.

Enjoying the view...

…and the 808s

This weekend I've been thinking a lot about second chances, do-overs, and the mystery of grace. During yesterday's ride along the coast, aside from enjoying the view and the miles, I had one other goal in mind- to revisit a painful site down near Davenport. I wanted to go over the railroad tracks again- those same metal lines that caused me to crash, flip sideways along the road, bruising my ego and my body. I needed to prove to myself that I could pass over them again, this time unscathed.

As I saw them appear, this time I tactfully and carefully positioned my wheels at a perpendicular angle, and as my tires passed over them, I breathed a sigh of relief. There's something about that experience- knowing that second chances exist- but we must have the courage to approach those areas now with caution and care and compassion.

Beauty from Pigeon Point.

All of life is like the single bike lane down the coast… miles filled with lessons of loving and letting go and learning and listening and leading and living in each moment. Noticing the way the sun hits the water at a certain time of day, how the fog collects in certain places and then lifts gently and blends back into the sky, how the wind shifts throughout the day, but also the reality of humanity- the shredded tire pieces strewn along the highway, shattered glass shards glistening in the afternoon sun, a random tennis shoe lying in the center of the road, all alone.

Luckily, there is a thing called grace, and this allows us to get up after we've crashed, wipe the blood off, and later return to the same spot a year later to conquer the thing that initially took us out- yet this time we are moving confidently, with awareness and gratitude, and staying upright.

I heard this song for the first time this morning, and it encapsulated everything I've been feeling this weekend. As I jogged the perimeter of the lake tonight and felt my breath in my lungs and my heart beating, it made me so grateful for the larger second chances we all have in life.

Because those are the ones that really matter.

Chasing the sunset tonight...

You give life, You are love
You bring light to the darkness
You give hope, You restore
Every heart that is broken

Great are You, Lord

It's Your breath in our lungs
So we pour out our praise
We pour out our praise
It's Your breath in our lungs
So we pour out our praise
To You only

You give life, You are love
You bring light to the darkness
You give hope, You restore
Every heart that is broken

Great are You, Lord

It's Your breath in our lungs
So we pour out our praise
We pour out our praise
It's Your breath in our lungs
So we pour out our praise
To You only

-from "Great Are You Lord" by All Sons and Daughters

Treading versus Swimming.

"Promise me you will not spend so much time treading water and trying to keep your head above the waves that you forget, truly forget, how much you have always loved to swim." -Tyler Knott Gregson

Sunrise swim lessons in life

Today was an extremely full day, so I knew what I had to do this morning- head straight to the pool for some active meditation. There's something so calming and womb-like about the water pre-dawn, when only the pool lights illuminate your arm stroke and the remnant stars greet you when you flip over and swim backstroke. This quote came to mind as I was swimming, anticipating the day ahead and realizing that it would be busy- yes- but filled with all the things that I had invited into my life and wanted to build.

When life is brimming over with activity, it's easy to feel as though you're drowning…but remember that you are constantly curating your own life, and at the end of the day, if you're following your passion, it becomes easier to find your rhythm and glide towards your destination.

And just like in the pool, I know that relaxing into it versus thrashing around, is the more sustainable, long-term, preferred way to move across the water.  I'm hoping that even in the future when 'busy' starts to boil over, I'll always opt for the smooth and graceful stroke above water. And I'll be sure to occasionally flip on my back once in awhile to enjoy the view of the glimmering stars.

That Smile.

"It was only a sunny smile, and little it cost in the giving, but like morning light it scattered the night and made the day worth living." -F. Scott Fitzgerald

Las Trampas sunrise...

Lately I've realized that as I walk down the street and pass strangers, I naturally smile, unaware that I'm actually smiling, until they reciprocate with a genuinely happy smile. My lips turn up into an even wider grin for such a beautiful and free exchange of unsolicited love.

Someone once told me that outside Oprah's makeup room hangs a sign that says, "Please take responsibility for the energy that you bring into this space." All life is energy and we are transmitting it at each second. We are all beaming signals like little radio frequencies, and the world is responding in kind. I believe this, and it applies not only for a make-up room, but for all the rooms in our lives.

As Preston Smiles (no pun intended) would ask, "What would love do in this moment?"

It's always a good question to ponder. And while you're thinking about that, smile. It makes the world a sunnier place.