jillsalahub

April Love prompt: “from where I stand”: I can see what is possible, and the path to get there is clear (mostly). What is essential is the quiet, allowing stillness and space, and also patience, allowing it to come in its own time and its own way. I can help it by surrendering, letting go, relaxing into things as they are, showing up with my open heart. The magic is real. Magic is awareness, which is simply curiosity and connection, being present. It’s what Lodro Rinzler described as “tuning into our world without trying to change it.” If I show up with an open heart and without an agenda, I will know the truth, and I will know what to do. I will be able to “hear her breathing.”

April Moon prompt: “one of my greatest sources of inspiration has always been”: Books. And as technology changes, presents more and more opportunities to access content, I have to modify that to something bigger and say reading. And yet, it’s even more than just books or reading — it’s connecting with ideas and stories and people, it’s touching what it means to be human. I am inspired by other humans willing to be vulnerable and raw, to take a risk and tell the truth.

Chicken coop, The Farm, image by my brother

1. Truth: There are certain places, spaces that are so powerful, mean so much to me, I carry them with me everywhere I go. “Our” house in Waldport, that particular seven mile stretch of beach, 27 Powers (my friend Laurie’s magic home), my own meditation shrine, Shambhala Mountain Center, Lee Martinez Park, 122 SE Division Street (the house I grew up in), and The Farm.

2. Truth: Some of these places are exactly as I remember them, some have changed so much they are barely recognizable. This year, for the first time in about eight years, my mom’s family celebrated Easter at The Farm. It’s their family farm, where she grew up and where we did too, and even though my uncle still works the land, after my grandma passed away they rented the house out to another family. That family recently moved out and my cousin and his family are moving in, so this year they offered to host Easter dinner there. My mom said they’ve done a lot of nice updates to the house, so it doesn’t look quite the same anymore, and yet this picture my brother took of the chicken coop out back looks exactly the same as I remember.

3. Truth: I feel incredibly lucky to have these places, these people, these connections, these memories. My brother posted the picture of the chicken coop on Facebook with the caption, “It’s just a chicken coop…but so much more. Would love to read what my sister could write about this picture.” There is so much sweetness mixed with the sad in life.

One wish: May anyone who is struggling, suffering with grief or illness or loss or loneliness receive a bit of sweetness, feel a little light, know enough love to keep them from giving up.