August Break: Day One

If you’ve been reading my blog for long, you know how much I adore Susannah Conway. I am so inspired by her classes, her photography, and her writing, her way of being in the world, that I would follow her just about anywhere, take on any prompt or project she suggested.

susannah and I at her book event this summer in portland

Susannah is hosting August Break, as she’s done for the past two years, and I’m joining in. The goal is to share a picture on your blog every day of August. Other bloggers use this time to take a break from regular blogging, to look closer at their world through the camera lens as a way to be more present and relaxed, to sink into the joys of the month and savor the end of summer. I am having so much fun blogging right now, I’m not going to take a break from that, but rather add daily August Break posts, sharing with you, kind and gentle reader, “the view from here.”

The View from Here: August 1st

This is how I start every morning, at my writing desk in front of my HappyLight, window open so I can hear the birds sing once the sky gets light, with a 1/2 cup of coffee, Kashi Bar, and a banana that I’ll share later with Sam, the boy sleeping on the bed under my feet. This morning, I was a few minutes late, was in the kitchen talking to Eric, and Sam cam out to find me, let me know that he’d been waiting and I was now officially “late for work.”

I love getting up so early (most mornings), before the sun is even up, to sit in the mostly quiet and write. Sometimes what I write is total crap, a garbage dump of complaints, whining and moaning and bitching about dumb stuff, but more often it’s the bones of a blog post, or pages of a book or essay being born.

This picture shows close up what my view is like when I’m writing. The other day, I bought myself flowers to encourage myself to clean off my desk (it worked). I currently have a “thing” for owls, feel like along with dogs, they are the animal guides for my writing. The blue container holds some of Obi‘s ashes, and is next to Guanyin, also known as White Tara in Tibetan Buddhism, the goddess of mercy, compassion and action, (this particular one found at the Waldport Flea Market for one dollar, she holds a lotus blossom in her hands). At her feet are various rocks I’ve collected, one of which is roze quartz, the love stone.

Guanyin stands in front of a post card of Susannah’s and a picture I originally framed for my grandma (she’s since passed, so I have it again) which includes a bible verse about rejoicing and being glad in this day, and there is my World Domination Summit (WDS) temporary tattoo, my message from the universe by way of Andrea Scher, a take-way from Cynthia Morris‘s WDS workshop which reads “claim your AUTHORity now” and postcard from Patti Digh where she holds a rock that says “I dare you.” Behind that, where you almost can’t see it, is a jar of sand from Waldport Beach. There are other things you can’t see in this particular image, like the picture of Obi or the one of my nieces on the beach, or the piece of art from my first heART exchange swap partner. All of these things inspire me, remind me of my intention to write.

After I write, I turn on my computer and do a quick check of my email, facebook, and my blog. After that, I either walk the dogs or go to yoga. This morning, it was yoga, and this was the sky outside my gym. It’s getting light later already, so I got to see some of the sunrise before I went inside.

Three Truths and One Wish

1. Truth: I am afraid of the truth, because sometimes it’s so ugly, heavy and dark. Change is inevitable, impermanence is one of the only things we can count on, reality is groundless and much of the time I can’t trust my perception of it anyway, there’s nothing stable to hold on to, and everything, all the time is coming together and falling apart. The world isn’t a safe place and really bad things happen, and I can’t stop many of those bad things from happening, no matter how careful, diligent, or perfect I am, no matter how hard I work or try. No matter how much we love someone, they will eventually die, we will be separated. All of our plans and insurance and hope can’t save us. Sometimes the truth of this paralyzes me, makes me so afraid that I am stuck, helpless.

2. Truth: I am afraid of the truth, because sometimes it’s so big and bright, full of love and amazing. Yesterday on Facebook, Raam Dev posted this: “Unless you’re prepared with the courage to receive it, what you want won’t come to you.” I am afraid to be loved, to live my dreams, to open my whole heart completely to my life. I am afraid to believe that I am basically good, innately wise and compassionate and therefore powerful. I can’t face how truly brilliant and precious I am. I fear the full measure of my true light is too big, will destroy me, burn me up, that I won’t be able to handle it, I am afraid I’ll ruin it, screw it up, not do it right, that I have access to so much good but no skill or courage for manifesting it. I’m afraid of the responsibility that comes with that power, that light, and am unable to face it, to look directly at it, to connect with it, to embody it.

3. Truth: Understanding that I am afraid, I open myself to the truth, to life, willing to be broken, inviting love. As Susan Piver so often reminds me, all I have to do is show up with an open heart.

I am basically good.
All beings possess such goodness.
Knowing this, my heart opens.
When my heart opens, the world changes.
~Susan Piver

One Wish: That even with our fears, even with the blinding light and brutal weight of the truth, we can continue to show up with open hearts and try.

God Speaks

God speaks to each of us as he makes us,
then walks with us silently out of the night.

These are the words we dimly hear:

You, sent out beyond your recall,
go to the limits of your longing.

Embody me.

Flare up like flame
and make big shadows I can move in.

Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror.
Just keep going. No feeling is final.
Don’t let yourself lose me.

Nearby is the country they call life.
You will know it by its seriousness.

Give me your hand.
~Rainer Maria Rilke