Tag Archives: Ocean

Full Buck Moon Dreamboard

Jamie isn’t hosting this month’s Full Moon Dreamboard, (she’s taking a break from blogging after losing her sweet mom), and I’m a couple of days late making mine. I almost skipped it. I’ve been feeling depressed this past week (missing my Dexter) and not wanting to do much of anything but lie on the couch, eat all kinds of wrong, sleep and watch tv and feel sorry for myself — but after doing this practice for more than a year, it just felt wrong to not do one, to not share it. I appreciate the comfort of this practice, the routine, the space and clarity it provides.

Jamie said last year about the Full Buck Moon, “There’s such gorgeous, lively energy under the Full Buck Moon! On the new moon, as we began gathering for our dreamboards, I invited you to ask yourself, ‘What are my most powerful dreams? Who am I when I am powerful?’ The Full Buck Moon is a time for stepping into that power. Now is the time to set intentions for bold action and big dreams, the time to take action and assert your presence in the world. Now is the time to take a stand and say, ‘Here I am! Here is what I’m dreaming!'”

The Full Buck Moon asks: “What are your most powerful dreams? Who are you when you are powerful?”

fullbuckmoon13

My teacher, Sakyong Mipham, said once,
“We think we are rocks, but we are gold.”
Awake, open, free.
Called to shine.

“I am constantly humbled by the ocean –
it teaches me that we can never control nature
or anything.
Rather, it is all about dancing with these dynamic waves
in ways where you are
poised between sensitivity and power.”

It’s not about being tough.
It’s about being tender, awake, open.

“Each of us feels
some aspect of the world’s suffering
acutely.
And we must pay attention.
We must act.
[Called to shine.]
This little corner of the world
[of our heart]
is ours to transform.
This little corner of the world
[of our heart]
is ours to save.”

I am the water, reflecting your light,
You are the echo of my heart’s song.

“We are all inextricably connected
to a field of awareness that is
infinite, unbounded, and eternal.
Meditation, yoga, and other practices
[writing and dog]
give us direct access
to this field of silent awareness.

By allowing our intentions
to drop into this state of silence and joy,
we put ourselves into the best position
for those intentions to manifest.”

There is a song in my heart,
a sleeping Bodhisattva,
but now it is dawn,
morning is here,
the sun is golden in the sky,
reflected off the water,
and it’s time to shine,
time to wake up.

#Reverb12: Day 10

reverb12There are a few extra prompts from over the weekend from Besottment that I’m catching up with here, and other ones that are on the wrong days because I can’t seem to keep them organized–but I like how no matter how I approach them, the right ones seem to come to me just when I’m ready to answer them, trusting in the process, the practice, the magic.

Funniest Story

The full prompt: What was your funniest story from 2012? This is a great prompt to have some fun with! Think of a funny story you were involved in, heard of, saw happen, etc. Describe what happened – is there any back story to it? What were the circumstances? Do you still chuckle when you think about it now?

For me, no one story stands out as memorable, as THE funniest. However, there are relationships where laughter happened on a regular basis–in my Writing for the Web class (I made them laugh, they made me and each other laugh), between Eric and I (we are always cracking each other up, over sometimes the dumbest things, stuff that would make no sense to anyone else), with my trainer (we both have a sense of humor equivalent to that of a 14 year old boy), and with the dogs (I don’t know if the dogs laugh or think things are funny, but they are constantly making me laugh).

samleafpile

why the backyard needs grass: for running, rolling, lounging, and peeing on

This year I’ve became increasingly aware of my sensitivity to what I watch on TV–it has to be either funny without being too mean (no pranks of taking advantage of those who can’t defend themselves, no humor that is dependent on hurting someone), or a “feel good” story. I typically watch short episode comedies, with the occasional movie, when I watch TV. Shows like 30 Rock, Parks and Rec, The Mindy Project, Ben & Kate, New Girl, or The Office. On Netflix this year, I worked my way through How I Met Your Mother and then started My Name is Earl. (I really don’t watch as much TV as that all makes it sound like I do!)

Quote

The full post: What was the quote or saying that most resonated with you this past year? Was there any quote, mantra or saying that really spoke to you? Helped you through something? Made you smile?

The most significant quotes for me this year were:

Confidence is the willingness to be as ridiculous, luminous, intelligent, and kind as you really are, without embarrassment. ~Susan Piver

We already have everything we need. There is no need for self-improvement. All these trips that we lay on ourselves—the heavy-duty fearing that we’re bad and hoping that we’re good, the identities that we so dearly cling to, the rage, the jealousy and the addictions of all kinds—never touch our basic wealth. They are like clouds that temporarily block the sun. But all the time our warmth and brilliance are right here. This is who we really are. We are one blink of an eye away from being fully awake. ~Pema Chödrön

I have a hundred other favorites, but it was these two that came up, over and over–so often that I practically memorized them.

Nostalgia

The full prompt: Was there anything you were feeling nostalgic for in 2012? Anything that you were feeling nostalgic for? Something you were yearning for from your past? A memory that wouldn’t leave you, or tradition that you wish you could continue?

I felt this longing for something past first when we went to the beach this summer. We have stayed in the same house in Waldport three times now, and one of those times was Obi’s final trip there. The second time in that house, the next trip we took to the beach, we brought some of Obi’s ashes with us to scatter in our favorite spot, and this last time, I brought a little bit more. When we visited the place on Driftwood Beach, scattered more of his ashes, letting him go little by little, there were yellow wild irises blooming.

obisirisesThen right after we got back from our trip, Dexter was diagnosed with a fatal cancer. We’d only lost Obi to his three years before. This made me again feel nostalgic for the days when Obi and Dexter were together and so in love, both young and healthy. Three years out, I had finally felt as if I’d released most of the pain surrounding Obi’s loss, that it had softened to gentle sadness and happy memory. And just as that ease occurred, the grief began with Dexter. If only I could know for sure that Dexter would get to be with Obi when he left us, it would be so much easier to let him go.

Obi and Dexter

Accomplish

The full prompt: What are the 10 things I’m most proud of accomplishing this year? What are 10 things on the to do list for next year? (Author: Lee Currie)

10 things I’m most proud of accomplishing this year

  1. My continued commitment to this blog, the ease and joy of this practice.
  2. Attending the World Domination Summit.
  3. Meeting so many women I admire and not throwing up on any of their shoes.
    feet
  4. Hosting a Well-Fed Woman Retreatshop, led by Rachel Cole.
  5. The poem I was brave enough to write and share at the Fearless Creativity Writing and Meditation retreat with Susan Piver.
  6. The way I’ve handled Dexter’s cancer, his care.
  7. Teaching.
  8. All the classes I’ve taken, the engagement and the learning.
  9. Connections I’ve made, so many amazing and like-minded, like-hearted people.
  10. 20 years with Eric, in a relationship that is functioning and workable, happy and loving.

10 things on the to do list for next year

  1. Take a lettering class, such as this one.
  2. Do a massive decluttering of our house.
  3. Send some things out to get published, both in print and online.
  4. Increase my HTML and CSS knowledge, specifically learn to set up and maintain a WordPress site on my own server.
  5. Heal my body, my relationship with it.
  6. Cultivate my meditation practice so it rivals my writing practice.
  7. Another retreat with Susan Piver.
  8. Explore and learn what it might mean, be like to teach an ecourse, (consult the experts).
  9. Catch up the home repair and improvement project list.
  10. Determine what a “balanced” like looks like and live it.

Soul Food

The full prompt: How do you nourish your soul? What activities are essential nutrients for your soul’s well-being?

buddhafeatherPractice: yoga, meditation, word, and dog.

Study: reading, reading and more reading, responding to prompts, taking classes, attending workshops and retreats, watching video and listening to podcasts, showing up and doing the work.

Connection: consulting with teachers and other open-hearted, wise beings, being open to whatever arises, synchronizing body and mind, connecting with nature and reality and myself.

Creation: art, space, and love.

Greatest Risk

The full prompt: What was the greatest risk you took in 2012? What was the outcome?

Being myself. Maybe I wouldn’t like her, maybe she’d be boring or insane, maybe Eric wouldn’t like her, maybe I’d have to choose between her and him, maybe she’d ruin my life, maybe she’d have nothing to say, no skill, nothing to offer, maybe she’d be less than I imagined, small, maybe she’d have something to say but no one would want to hear it, maybe she’d be hated, unlikeable, maybe she wouldn’t like who liked her, maybe she’d be impulsive, reckless, so selfish that she’d end up alone and unloved, maybe she’d fail, ruin my life.

None of these things turned out to be true. I adore her, and she’s doing really good work, helping people, easing suffering in the world.

eyei

Scars

The full prompt: (this is the one I’m doing out of order, but it’s the right time now). They leave marks, and sometimes you can only take what you can carry. What will you, by choice or by chance, carry into 2013?

I will carry with me the consequences, the karma of mistreating myself, of denying my power, resisting my calling, rejecting my need for love and affection. There is real physical damage, a literal weight I carry with me, but there is also mental and emotional baggage, old habits and ways of being that no longer serve me, but are sticky and deep, patterns of behavior, discursive and destructive thinking, ways of numbing out, resisting and rejecting, running away from the truth. Judgement and criticism, anxiety and depression, practiced for so long, so intently that they don’t fall away in an instant, not even after concentrated effort. There remain faint lines, bumps, jagged raised scar tissue. They ache in the cold and itch in the heat, old hurts, lingering damage that can resurface under certain conditions.

Leaving Home, Going Home

They say that home is where the heart is. I would agree with this, but the problem for me is half my heart lives in Oregon and the other in Colorado, with my body shuttling between the two. And yet, I don’t ever feel like I am living with half a heart, or carrying the ghost of another half, more like I have two full hearts residing in two different locations, but somehow still connected, like twins who can feel each others pain, sense what the other is experiencing.

This morning I discovered that other than the first day of July, when I correctly wrote “7-1-12″ in my journal, I’ve been dating every entry with a “6” and thus giving myself a whole extra month of June. With the weather here at the coast never getting much warmer than mid-60s, you could almost believe in two Junes.

Cape Foulweather

But now it’s time to go back, to temperatures in the high 90s, to a place that was on fire when we left and is now in the thick of sadness, confusion, and anger brought on by another kind of tragedy. Yesterday, all I wanted to do was watch HGTV and sleep, which is rare. I hardly ever watch that much TV anymore–when I am “sick” maybe (too depressed and tired to get dressed and leave the house, barely able to get out of bed), but I haven’t been that for a long time now. This post from Jennifer Louden helped yesterday, “Ways to Channel Fear and Sadness,” reminded me of what I already know to be true. She ends the post with this: “We are human and fragile and afraid – together.  Never alone, my friend, never alone.”

Later in the day, I even found myself smiling a little.

There are a lot of lasts today: last full day at the beach, last sleep in this house, last farmer’s market, last serving of marionberry cobbler (*sob*). Walking on the beach this morning, talking about how this last month went by so fast (the kind of talk that always reminds me of this post on A Design So Vast, where Lindsey’s daughter says to her “When you’re in them, days take a long time.  But then when you look back they went really fast”–brilliant, and exactly…), I asked Eric “how do you get your life to slow down?”

Farmer’s Market this morning in Newport, our last one

Eric answered: less internet, less tv, less feeling like you have to be “on,” checking in and connected. I know from practice that slowing down is about relaxing into the moment, remaining present, surrendering, no judgement or rejection, no plans or control or even hope. Let go. Give up your agenda. Pay attention. Breathe. It’s simple, but we make it so hard.

South Beach, south of Newport, where we walked/ran this morning while being chased by 100 mosquitoes trying to eat us

Much love to you, kind and gentle reader. I have a post for tomorrow, but won’t be doing a Something Good list this week, as we’ll be on the road to Colorado, moving from this home to that one.

Gratitude Friday

This post is a mashup of The Little Bliss List and Joy Jam, and as such is meant to celebrate: the little things that brought me hope and happiness this week, the sweet stuff of life, those small gifts that brought me joy this week. By sharing them, I not only make public my gratitude, but maybe also help you notice your own good stuff and send some positive energy out into the world.

1. Spending time with family. Movie day with Mom (and Dad, although he usually doesn’t watch the movies with us), lunch and walking on the beach and ice cream with my brother and niece, and dinner with aunts and uncles.

2. Farmer’s Market produce and Depoe Baykery baked goods. Oh how I am going to miss them, but there’s word that my garden in Colorado is producing cucumbers and the tomatoes are starting, and it’s probably time to lay off the sweet, sweet carbs for a bit as well.

3. My purple fleece robe. This item has wrapped me in warmth and comfort through some really hard times of grief and sadness and depression, as well as being useful during better times. Eric bought it for me for Christmas many, many years ago. It is simple, functional, clearly durable, and a long time favorite, and was a good thing to have with me this summer, where the temperature never got much above the mid 60s and I was trying to learn to rest and take better care of myself.

4. Naps, sinking in and relaxing. The boys and I have shared many a nap during this vacation, pure bliss when you get up early and take long walks and have no plans, no work, no where you need to go. I need this kind of rest, and my only worry is how I will manage it when I am back at my paid job. But for now, no worries. The boys are napping as I write this post, and I soon as I finish, I’ll probably join them.

5. HGTV. This is the only thing I miss about not having cable TV. I’ve been able to watch it this whole month, since the house we are staying in has access. I am especially loving International House Hunters. I barely even bother with the other channels.

6. Hiking yesterday, and then the long shower I took after.

7. This vacation, this month at the beach in Waldport, but also going home to Colorado. This place is home too and I have loved being here so much and as it does every time, my heart will break a little when we have to go, but I’m also missing my little house, my bed, my studio space, my garden, my routine there, and my friends. I am looking forward to returning, to catching up and reconnecting with that space and those people.

Bonus Joy: Laughing with Eric. Sometimes he makes me almost hurt from it and I have to beg him to stop, but sometimes he’s the one who can’t stop.

O is for Ocean

smelt sands, yachats oregon

When trying to choose a word for today, I opened my dictionary to “O” and started making a list: ordinary, origami, orange, origin, only, old, observe, obsession, object, obstruction, occupy, odd, offering, okay, Oliver, Om, open, one, openhearted, Oregon, ocean…

Ocean. As soon I wrote it down, I knew it was the right word. My heart did a little flutter, “yes.” Having grown up an hour and a half from the coast of Oregon, I spent a lot of time there, playing in the sand and water, walking up and down beaches collecting shells, sitting in a lawn chair with my toes in the sand and reading a book, stuffing myself full of seafood and saltwater taffy, roasting marshmallows and hotdogs on a bonfire built in the sand, and falling asleep to the sound of the waves. Living in Colorado, as much as I adore it here, I miss the ocean.

There is a feeling I get, standing at the edge, bubbles of seawater tickling my feet, looking out on to the horizon, hearing the waves, feeling the spray, that’s like being in church (or a bookstore or library). I feel utterly in love, vibrating with it, simultaneously chilled and warmed. My heart opens and my chest fills with the sound of the water, the waves moving in and out, my heartbeat and breathing echoing that rhythm. I don’t need to be anywhere else. I feel at ease and at peace. The ocean is a divine and precious thing.

Wishcasting Wednesday

image from Jamie's post

What do you wish to experience?

Contentment. Satisfaction and peace, surrender and acceptance, ease and relaxation, fearlessness and joy, simplicity and engagement.

Love. On every channel, all the time, 24/7. Know it, feel it, be it. Love, love, love. And then, more love. Keep it coming, keep it going.

Health. Full body and full life wholehearted and embodied wellness. I want to light up, shine with it, glow, radiate.

Confidence. Certainty, courage, daring, determination, faith, tenacity.

Self-love. This is most likely a combination or culmination of the rest, what is at the center, the heart of everything else, its foundation, but it seems to be worth an independent mention. I want to move through the hours and days of my life with supreme confidence in my innate wisdom, compassion, strength, and fundamental goodness.


That part of the list is states of being, but there are also “things” I wish to experience.

Playing the ukulele well enough that I wouldn’t embarrass myself. The secret wish underneath is to someday be able to do a duet with Danielle Ate the Sandwich. Just once, please. But I have a lot of work to do first, like learning to play.

Publication. I’m okay without it. I have a full writing life, even if it never happens. Writing is like prayer for me, a spiritual practice, and I am utterly devoted to it. But…I’d also like to be published, as in paid for my work, as in people curled up in hammocks or in front of a fire on the couch cuddling with their dog reading my books.

Paid work that isn’t work, but rather pure love, aligned with my calling, maybe even God’s work. I’ve said it before and it bears repeating that I don’t need what I love to pay my rent, or turn into a business, and yet…it might not be the worst thing if what I love, the work I would do regardless, the thing that wakes me up in the middle of the night thinking and planning, the stuff that makes me wake up and rise at 4:30 am every morning, and the money, the means to take care of what needs taken care of, would be in the same location at the same time, would feed each other, work together, and then I could just do what I love, all the time, instead of trying to juggle full-time paid work with everything else I want to do. It is sometimes like trying to live two lives, and that can be exhausting, and lonely.

Hike the Appalachian Trail with Eric.

My very own writing cabin.

A whole summer in Amsterdam.

Dathun, a month long meditation retreat at Shambhala Mountain Center.

An in-person workshop with Brene’ Brown.

P.S. The magic power of wishing, part two: Holy wow! Brene’ is going to be in Boulder for a two day workshop in May, and I am going.

A yoga retreat with my friend and yoga teacher Jessica.

A writing workshop with Natalie Goldberg.

Church with Anne Lamott.

A meet-up with Susannah Conway. Really, what I would love is a long weekend on the beach with her, writing and blogging and taking pictures and talking and taking long naps and eating and laughing.

P.S. The magic power of wishing: I just found out this morning, less than 24 hours after making this post, that Susannah is going to be at the World Domination Summit, and has proposed a writing workshop. Even if the workshop doesn’t go (it so will), there is a very real chance that I am going to be able to at least tell her in person how much I adore her. I can hardly believe it, but it’s true!

Walk and talk with Mary Oliver. This is most likely the craziest wish on this list, but I would just love to be near her and able to tell her just once in-person how much I love her, how much her words have meant to me.

Swim without fear.

Hike with Judy Clement Wall.
A walk on the beach with Julia.
Take pictures or paint with Andrea Scher.
Sit with Jen Lemen at her kitchen table.
Sit in stillness with Erica Staab.
Meditate with Susan Piver, (oh wait, I actually get to do this in a few weeks!).
Discuss writing with Margaret Atwood, and not embarrass myself.
Trust over a cup of tea with Kristin Noelle.
Make art with Patti Digh.
Take a yoga class with Jennifer Louden.
Ask Pema Chödrön one million questions.
Take a Nia class with Jamie Ridler.
Go on tour with Aimee Mann.
Teach an art and writing class for girls with Kandyce.
Draw with Hugh MacLeod.
Listen to Neil Gaiman read.

I could keep going with this list forever and ever…so many good people doing so much good stuff and I want to just hang out with them and soak up all that goodness and tell them to their sweet faces how much I adore them.

Small Stone: Spring Sky

On my back, stretched out long on the patio, the dogs step over and around, nudge me and lick my face. The sun is warm but one corner of cement still in the shade is cold. Looking up at the sky, I watch the clouds drift east. As I stare into that wide blue space, I notice that the wisp of white makes it look like the surface of the ocean, bubbles and foam swimming on the surface of blue waves. And then, I am looking up at the sky, but seeing the Pacific, imagining sand under me instead of cement.