October 31, 2009

Day 12 Listen- Samhain

Samhain, is the time of year when the veil is the thinnest between the living and the non living, between us and those who have come before, and those who have yet to come, if there is in fact a difference. It is a time to honour our ancestors, past and future. We give thanks to the generations of shoulders we have stood upon, and prepare our own to be mounted by those who will take what we have done, learned, and dreamed, and decide for themselves where to go with it all.


Halloween as we culturally know it, the eve of the Holy, has become a festival of costumes and candy. Don’t get me wrong, I LOVE Halloween; an unrivalled festival of community and fun where without any emails or newsletters everyone knows just what to do. As soon as the sun goes down the festivities begin, all the kids (and those adults lucky enough to have kids) must do is walk out their front door, go find someone else's and sing “Trick or Treat!”. My kids sing other songs too, ones learned from me, from school, from friends. They spend hours traipsing from door to door and, every year it seems, announce to me at the end of the night that “Halloween is the best day of the year!” Yes I do love Halloween, but it doesn’t really resemble Samhain any more.

Usually we celebrate Samhain on November 1st, which technically is still a holy day, until the sun goes down. (Pagan festivals run sun down to sun down). I have to tell you though, things are not looking good. I am feverish again, shaky and uber tired. I admit, I ate some candy, terrible for the immune system. I have a feeling tomorrow I will pay the price. If I am sick, there will be no official celebration of the ancestors this year.Ugh.

“How do you honour your ancestors?” is the question in 12 days journal #202

October 30, 2009

Day 11 Listen- Easy Peasy

My fever finally broke today. After much tea, toast and tenderness from so many members of my family, I was finally able to venture out of my house...ok I know I was only home bound for a day but it really was terrific to get out! I had no expectations, I wanted to drink a coffee, and get some expectorant tea. With no expectations or check list to adhere to I just sort of floated. First down with Michael to Oso Negro, then visited with Kim and Sage. Chris came by and picked me up so we could go get Rose from school and kiss Lily before horseback riding. Chris, Rosy and I went for spaetzle, then walked down to buy my tea. We stopped in a Jill’s shop to show her Rosy’s Halloween costume, and got a yummy surprise, Michael was there. Rose and he growled and hissed at each other, playing like they often do, I kissed him and Jilly Bean good bye, we made our way to Sidewinders to get tea. By this time I really needed to come home and sleep, while the fever is gone and I am on the mend, I know tomorrow is going to be a big day so I need to rest up...Halloween is NO day to be sick!

I got home, made tea, wrestled with the fire (wet wood teaches patience I continually tell myself) and am now sitting on the bed in the living room working, no not quite sleeping, but I am on a bed. Today was just one of those easy days...God I love easy days.

“If you could have a day to yourself to do whatever you wanted, what would it look like?” is the question in 12 days journal #201

October 29, 2009

Day 10 Listen- Pathetic

I haven’t got out of bed yet today, well except once to hug my girls and another time to make toast which my dog ate before I could. I am feeling a tad pathetic.

“How do you care for others?” is the question in 12 days journal #200 ...wow 200...I would have celebrated or come up with something pertinent if my body weren’t on fire and sweating out all my bodily fluids....I will do something fun for #250 promise.

October 28, 2009

Day 9 Listen- Goosebumps

Ugh...I am sick. We are driving home, an epic journey which, with very few stops, will take us 15 1/2 hours. I am so grateful to Michael that he is driving the whole way. My sacrum in on fire, I can’t stop shivering and my head is pounding. Considering how miserable a drive this could be, we have talked a lot, laughed a little, stopped to cuddle, making the best of a tough situation we are.

I always wondered what would happen if I got sick during this project, I haven’t been yet. Expect my entries to be pretty slim till I can type while sitting up for long periods of time.

“How do you like to be cared for?” is the question in 12 days journal #199

October 27, 2009

Day 8 Listen- Mending

Yesterday was rough day. Today things are mending, love is making its way back to the surface.

We are in Victoria, Michael's home town, or at least home-base for the last 8 years. The order of the day was to see as many friends, and soak up as much connection and love as possible.

We danced from 7pm till nearly 11pm then drove to the ferry terminal. We are catching the first ferry and then driving home to Nelson. Tomorrow is going to be a long day.

“When was the last time you spent the day with a friend? What did you do?” is the question in 12 days journal #198

October 26, 2009

Day 7 Listen- Same Old

Same old, same old....sigh. I won’t bore you with the details.

“What do you wish you could change?” is the question in 12 days journal #197

I am sure I have asked this one before...it is all I can come up with.

October 25, 2009

Day 6 Listen- Listening to the Mystic

I listened today. Not in a new way, I have listened this way before, but today was different. I let go of the embarrassment, the ideas, the worries about what others might think, let go of not trusting that they want me to shine.

“Let your beauty shine, the world needs it“. I was told this by a womyn from Florida, a womyn I have met before but do not remember her name. I love her so, she came to me today completely vulnerable, tears streaming, not because she wanted anything from me, but to tell me that she sees me, encouraged me to keep it up, the being me thing that I have going on. Why not? I am the only one I can be.

So this me, this imperfect, vulnerable, self judging me, danced with a boy named Sage today. The first time I noticed him in the room, I saw a boy with autism, he had curved his hands smooth, with holding and rubbing, hand over hand. His eyes saw what lay above us all but could not muster the connection right here...or so I thought, this was my idea about Sage. His father took him lovingly round the dance floor, so much love. It was palpable how much this man loved his son, I didn’t have to ask to know Sage was his son, it was right there on the surface. Sometime later after an experience in the dance where I tapped into a moment from my past, a moment of fear and reclamation, I found myself kneeling before Sage, my teacher. I imagine him a mystic, and asked him, with my body, with my heart, if he would teach me. I noticed that we were connected in movement, mine was big and measured, his smaller, subtle, yet there, along with mine, we moved in unison. He lowered his eyes, not quite to mine, but enough. He began to let go of the grip of hand holding hand, his arms began to rise up. Then spontaneous laughter, like music! We danced, and I listened, listened to his body with my body, and we connected in a rare way, a sweet rare beautiful way. What a gift, what a glorious gift.

I saw his father later, a ceramic artist with a gentle way. He thanked me, I thanked him. I didn’t see Sage again. I remember his eyes though, and his gentle soft hands, hand holding hand, in such a particular way. I wonder what it might be like to walk amongst this world as a mystic in the way that Sage is, to see the world through those eyes, through those hands.

The less I talk, the more I listen, I see, or perhaps hear the mystics, and I am so overjoyed that they are everywhere. Such beauty in this world, such beauty.

”Where do you see beauty in this world?“ is the question in 12 days journal #196

(The Soul Motion Crew at this years Madrona MindBody Institute Vinn Marti Workshop, what an amazing group of beings! Picture Taken by David Conklin)

October 24, 2009

Day 5 Listen- I Am My Teacher

The pain of not being able to drop into the dance, while I know fleeting and easily forgotten, at the time feels like deep lonely isolation. If we were to be dancing the “alone together” dance it would be easier to take, the alone dance is easy to muster when I feel alone. Today though we are doing the “common union” dance, the ephemeral duet. I know that to feel it as tragic may seem self indulgent, a mountain out of a mole hill. I do have perspective. I know that by lunch, maybe even in a moment, after a hug, just the right words, a glance, this feeling of quiet sad desperation will abate and likely give way to a new delicious mood. This is why I write about it, to capture it, know it, bring it to the light so I can recognize it instantly, honour it, its connection to the string of times I have felt it before and will feel it again. A bead in the endless mala of moments. I write about it because it matters, alone times, sad times are not to be tucked away, ignored, gotten over, fixed. They are a part, they connect, they teach, hold wisdom and answers.

I sit before a room of 75, many with eyes closed, moving slowly, repetitively, expressively, God faces, God movements, tapping into the Divine. I sit. I write. I know this, what I am watching, felt it just yesterday, but today tapping it is a mystery. So i tap this instead, what you are reading . Something that just yesterday I couldn’t touch, I couldn’t tap.

Now the floor pounds, feet hit shiny wood, hips gyrate, arms flail, smiles of bliss everywhere. Still I sit and write, watching Vinn, my love, my Teacher as he moves and know him in a way that awkward conversation out side of this room will not allow. Am even resentful that writing this pen in hand means transcribing it to the computer later, as though this was his fault, as though my decision not to bring the computer into the witnessing circle is his decree, rather than simply what is necessary to capture this sacred space. I know this and I put the resentment elsewhere to hide that it is actually still just the pain of not tapping into the divine, my mind plays tricks. The resentment spreads, I want to dance! Feel the euphoric abandon, yet here I sit. Watching Michael now, how i love the way this man moves, hands strong, flexed at the wrist, taunt belly peeking from beneath his shirt, pink drawstring below. I wonder in another moment of magnified desperation if i will ever dance again.

Who? Who has loved with all their heart something, someone, and has not known this fear? This fear of what we love being lost to us? It is almost more than i can bare....

And yet i know that by the time you read this, what I am describing, this feeling of desperation and yearning, will be gone, transformed. This is why I write this, to capture this moment, one I believe so many have experienced, and maybe never shared, maybe out of embarrassment or fear. I want you to know, I have felt it too.

I pull out my “What i want” journal and write;


Michael moves past me. Jade moves past me.
I watch many others, but still do not shake and quake, there is no impulse to follow.

I know the only way is to get up, start, and so this is what I am going to do.


I was going to leave it there, but it would have been incomplete, here is the rest:

I dance closed, trying to be open, hands over eyes, gaze turned down. Many tried to commune, I tried back. TRYING though is not the best recipe for ecstatic experience, it is paradoxical that the opposite is generally what brings ecstasy.

Up dances a sweaty smiling womyn of such beauty. She pushes up on her cheeks, to create a smile, an invitation. I smile. I hug her and say “thanks for noticing”. She tells me I am absolutely beautiful, open eyed, no walls, she let me in and told me she saw beauty. The ice is broken. Being seen is so powerful a thing. I spy Michael and know I can find connection there, something that has not always been easy for me with male partners here on the dance floor. I endure the slightly awkward beginning, accept the clumsiness of emerging from this shell. Then we click. His body listens to mine, mine to his. I feel safe.

I was not as connected in the dance this morning as I was yesterday. Exceptional experience becomes mundane if it inhabits the everyday. This wanting which I experience today is very much a part of the ecstatic, ecstatic foreplay. I know it will return, today was a reminder of its sweetness.

“Who do you consider to be your greatest Teachers in life?” is the question in 12 days journal #195

P.S. In the afternoon session I had one of the most ecstatic experiences I have had on or off the dance floor yet...so there you go.

October 23, 2009

Day 4 Listen- At a Loss

“Dancing in ever widening circles.”

“Concentrating on the shared space, the space between you and I.”

“Everyone one deserves....”

“As a dance community we will.....“

”Holding the high watch”

“Become cleaver at noticing“

”Come back, Come back, share what you have found“

Dancing with Vinn is a mystical experience, one that is hard to explain once I have left the room where the magic happens. I can remember snippets, feelings, quotes, but trying to convey exactly what went on in the room seems impossible. Especially when there is so little time to write and so many people I want to connect with.

Perhaps I will try again tomorrow.

”What do you contribute to your community?“ is the question in 12 days journal #194

October 22, 2009

Day 3 Listen- A Dancing We Will Go

8:40 AM- Woke up this morning by the side of the road near Spokane, Washington. I find this part of road tripping to be kind of eerie. I told Michael this morning that I kept imagining someone coming to tap on the car window, get us to move along. Time to get up!

10:42 AM- North Eastern Washington is a bit sparse. We couldn’t seem to find a locally owned, organic, wholesome delicious place for breakfast, so instead we hit the Starbucks and drank coffee, while cutting up avocados, spreading them on corn-cakes. Delicious. Michael and I eat very similarly, corn cakes have played a major role in our relationship. I am sitting typing as Michael reads. The girls behind the counter are speaking about Halloween and the Bible. We have had more than a few stares and questioning looks, we don’t exactly fit in here. I love this about road tripping, how in an hour the whole social climate can change, we will be in Seattle before long, the birthplace of this Starbucks, the town where I could sit here drinking coffee and still be supporting local entrepreneurship. A city where Michael and I can walk in decked out in hemp, feathers and funky shoes and go relatively unnoticed...relatively.

3:46 PM- We are on the Coast! Our car is filled with groceries for our workshop. Trader Joe's sells Organic Butter for 4.59 a pound...can you believe it? And our Canadian maple syrup is about half the price here. I know the cost difference is accounted for somewhere, perhaps in lower wages or unfair trade...I am weak, what can I say. I would go on about the cost of feeding a family of 6, but would only be justifying to myself so I will save you the reading. We sit here in a cafe doing the internet thing, we are somewhere in Seattle, not sure where, but google map will get us where we need to go.

4:20 PM- SHIT! We didn’t realize Port Townsend was still 2 hours away! We are now racing to make the workshop on time.

4:31 PM- DOUBLE SHIT! We just realized there is a ferry to take into consideration...man this ocean stuff is hard for a land locked girl like me!

6: 13 PM- TRIPLE SHIT! I was up on deck changing and putting on some make-up when the ferry docked. The Captain forgot to make an announcement, it was the womyn cleaning the bathroom who let me know the cars were already getting off. I ran like a bionic womyn to catch up with Michael, who was of course patiently waiting for me down the road with only some little funny remark. He accepts and loves my flakiness, this I love about him.

10:20 PM- Ahh... In our room after dancing with Vinn. Heaven. More Tomorrow.

“What do you struggle with while travelling?” is the question in 12 days journal #193

October 21, 2009

Day 2 Listen- MMI

Michael and I are off today to Port Townsend, Washington. Just below Canada, on the Pacific Coast is the Madrone MindBody Institute (MMI), where we will be attending a Soul Motion workshop. MMI was started by two dance friends, Allison and Aletia, it is their baby, a converted Military base gymnasium come movement studio. The whole military base has been turned into an eclectic Conference Centre, MMI being but one of the fantastic centres for change that now sit on this land. What a great reclamation of old buildings on a beautiful site; making a place for personal growth out of a former centre for the war machine is a step in the right direction!


“What has war taught us?” is the question in 12 day journal #192.

This question is dedicated to my wonderful, quirky, and ever so alpha husband Chris, I love you sweet man.

October 20, 2009

Day 1 Listen- Conception

Dance Church is something I have been promising the people of my community for a long time now. Getting it together always seemed like such a grand task, this is not to say I wasn’t going to do it, but I certainly was coming up with reasons to put things off. In walks Michael.

I have heard it said that the Ying Yang symbol is a depiction of the female energy carving out space for creation, that then there is room for masculine energy to move in, giving the space form. This describes how our Dance Church is being conceived. Today Michael made the radical suggestion that we get out a piece of paper and a pen and begin writing things down...I know...crazy!

We have attempted to talk about Dance Church before, and noticed pretty quickly that this project was near and dear to both of our hearts. As can often be the case when two people are passionate about the same thing, the sparks began to fly. This happened when something as seemingly simple as music began to hold a magnifying glass to the differences in our ideas. It became an off topic, which meant back burner for Dance Church.

The questions from the community never stopped though, people kept asking about the “dance thing we were going to start on Sundays”. “WHEN?” became the reoccurring question. We wondered too.

Today we sat down with the little moleskine notebook which had been slated to become 12 days journal #191 and instead wrote “DANCE CHURCH et el.” on the front cover, the last two words being added in one of the many silly and light hearted moments during our 2 hour long collaboration. We drew pictures, talked about dreams, ideas, and really listened with care and attention, knowing the other was revealing their heart.

And so while we do not have a date for you, we are hoping for sometime in November, near the end I believe. Wow, owning this makes it seem that much more real, soon I will be be in a studio with you all, sweating and rhythmically calling in our prayers. Divine.

“How do you pray/meditate/connect with the divine?” is the question in 12 days journal #191

Latest Committment! Listen More

Ok so in a nut shell...talk less, listen more. In this spirit of this I am going to keep this short.

I commit to talking less and listening more for the next 12 days. To let what I hear, and might not have without this commitment, inform my writings for the duration of the commitment.

Tell me what you think about that...I will listen :oP

October 19, 2009

Day 12 Committed to Self- The Love

I slept off and on for 14 hours today. I am exhausted, I WAS really really exhausted. I have felt frail lately, not strong like I usually do. That said I feel more stable than I have felt for a while. I think the last of the storm has finally abated, time to just do a little clean up.

Today, on the last day of this commitment, there was a shift. A sweet, beautiful shift. I have decided to keep the nature of the commitment to myself, keep it intimate. I will say though, that during the commitment on any given day I likely would have given you a completely different explanation of what the commitment was, and how I was feeling about it. It was perfect to give myself 12 days.... 12 crazy up and down days filled with love...lots of other stuff too, but it is the love that makes the answers clear.

“What is love?” is the question in 12 days journal #190

“The greatest thing you can ever learn is just to love and be loved in return

October 18, 2009

Day 11 Committed To Self- Tired

I am flying home from school today. The weekend has been incredibly intense, I feel like a I need to sleep for a week. That is not going to happen though. I am going home to unpack the house, then leave on Wednesday for Port Townsend, Washington, to go dance Soul Motion.

With all the amazing experience there is so much to write about, art installations, passionate conversation, environmental work (going out into the community and doing improvised movement based on a score set before hand) in both a city setting and by the raging ocean. There was barely a moment where some amazing thing didn’t happen!

...and I am tired, and while not uninspired, certainly feeling a little numb. I don’t have a lot for you right now. In an effort to make this entry worth reading here is a excerpt from what I wrote this weekend. Perhaps if I get my stuff together I will also get a picture from Ue to add before I submit this.

“Oh we never do that!” she said.

I now realize, many months later, that what I saw was wistfulness. Wistful for what I wonder, fresh perspective alive and banging at the door. It was not judgement of me as I had imagined, but a soft silent plea for the days of bliss and ease. I am instantly convinced that the memories of those days bring such a strong desire for return that they are what is making her smaller and smaller, and in a pathetic sort of way, ever hopeful.“

I wrote this on a collage I made, a depiction of my ideal self as a facilitator, one that turned out to be about framing and reframing. I burnt the collage on Diwali, sent my intentions up the chimney, after I ripped off this writing that is, I have a harder time letting go of creative writing than visual art. This piece came from one glance into the eye of a man I don’t know very well, with the glance I created a story, and wrote this little snippet. I was thinking of starting a novel when I am finished with this project. Seems like such a mountain to climb though...a book, a WHOLE book!

”If you wrote a book what would it be about?“ is the question in 12 days journal #189

October 17, 2009

Day 10 Committed To Self- Diwali

The Festival of Lights, Diwali, marks the new year for some. The first new moon day that ends the month of Ashwin, it is a harvest festival of abundance. Lakshmi is called in, candles are lit, and a new time begins. This is my understanding of Diwali, and how it was celebrated by my classmates and I today at Sea Ranch on the Northern California Coast. In part of India it is also the celebration of the home coming of Rama after 14-year of exile to the forest, Sita and Hunuman by his side. In my own tradition it is another chance to set intentions in the darkness, having faith in the coming of the light reflected by the moon and the light to reflect our own journey, illuminating our growth, struggles and joy.


Our field trip to Sea Ranch was intense and transformative. The thing is I can’t really explain what we did and do it justice. We went to the rocky bluffs, and explored the environment, paying attention to impulse, our feeling, our imaginings, our environment and each other. I had alot to write when we first arrived at the exploration site, watching the convergence of water and rock, violent and sweet, intimate and loud. When I finally got the writing out of me, I began moving with the intention of “following the impossible fall line”, making the impossible possible. The sandpaper texture of the rocks made this easier because I could grip it with my shoes while also grating my fingers raw from holding my weight on the rocks. I imagine it is a strange thing to see a group experiencing the environment via movement, drawing on a huge number of resources, I imagine many of you won’t even understand what that last wonky sentence even means! Suffice to say it looks a little like coming across an improvised modern dance performance out in the middle of nowhere, that or coming across a group of crazy folk. I remember once a little girl walking past us as we we doing a oil pastel drawing in response to a movement piece we had just completed, the little girl said, “What are they doing Daddy?”. He whispered back with what I imagined to be both information and longing, “They are artists honey”. I sure did like his answer.

After our Diwali Feast we sat round drinking wine with Soto, our lone man and teacher for the weekend. We gave each other our version of a pop quiz; give your partner a theoretical setting where they might present a class, or workshop, they are to then answer on the spot what they might do with this group. The conversation got animated, a bunch of “artists” sitting round talking about their beliefs, passions, egos. I realized how much I enjoy these lively conversation, where voices raise in defence of ideas and visions. I love this about myself too, that I am emotive when I speak, that I allow my feelings to arise giving life to my words. I have decided this is something I like very much. I want to grow, learn about myself, come fully into my glory, AND I want to honour that I am, just as I am. This is perfection for this moment, perfectly flawed perfection.

I set an intention this Diwali, this newest of the new moons, to fully be myself, to own me, all of me. The me who leaks emotion over all her words, who looses her keys constantly, who speaks in poetry and with multiple perspectives at once, the one who thinks beauty is important and in everything, the one who forgets appointments and is kinda flaky. The one who sees others struggles and feels their pain, the same one who works to not take it on, and only sometimes succeeds. The one who will let dishes pile up, and spend hours on things others find silly or pointless; one who trusts her instincts and innate knowing. The one who is scared even though she doesn’t want to be and brave when she doesn’t even see it.

I will fully live as me, all of me. I want to grow but not change...there is a difference.

“Is their something about yourself you would change if you could?” is the question is 12 days journal #188

October 16, 2009

Day 9 Committed To Self- Emerge

All the self actualization in the world is not going to change that we have birth order, family of origin, cultural affiliation, economic status and conditioning, it is certainly not going to change that we are born a specific gender. I may be a spiritual being having a human experience but this demands the humanity to be fully experienced, imperative to the completion of what it is I am doing here, without it I learn nothing, the spirit is no further along. This is what this whole commitment is about, in a rather obtuse way, fully viewing my own humanity, without judgement, as much as possible, from the place of witness. It is my gender which lately seems to hold the key to my purpose.

The archetype of the Queen has been very alive for me lately. I am coming out of a period of feeling very small, like the chrysalis, full of potential but still questioning my place as a fierce warrior womyn of this time. How am I to be the Queen, take impeccable care of myself, while still honouring and supporting the King. Putting me first by only a margin to carve a way for the necessary and beloved Divine Masculine. Where is the job of the Priestess? It use to be in the temple. What happens when the temples are all gone and we Queens are too consumed with the work to build our own? This is not the order of things anyway, not according to the archetype. Within the archetypes there are some to build and some to do the worshipping, Queens lie in the middle, bridge builders.

To laugh often and much,
To win the respect of intelligent people and the affection of children;
To earn the appreciation of honest critics and endure the betrayal of false friends;
To appreciate beauty;
To find the best in others;
To leave the world a bit better,whether by a child, a garden patch, or a redeemed social condition;
To know even one life has breathed easier because you have lived----
This is to have succeeded.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson

This is my work, I take my work very seriously. I take success very seriously. It seems to me this sums up nicely the work of the archetypical Queen...no? And so from the Queen archetype which lives within me, the Priestess emerging from Chrysalis, from this place I wrote the following poem yesterday. Written to the human manifestation of the Divine Male, the archetypal King in all his manifestations:

Winged found feet

Devotion to dance is devotion to me.
Me as the butterfly emerging, veil winged. 
Living vulnerable truth, a warrior of the heart worn out front, 
beating, beating, beating.

"How dare you!" 
twisted face,
red behind panels of frustration, and feared smallness....

"How dare you?,"
I ask, righteous, full plumed,

“How dare you show up here at my hut to be blessed,
seek me out as your Queen, your Goddess, and then tear me down out of fear?”

Courage is not the absence of fear they say but acting in spite of it.
I say it is holding the fear, facing it, caressing it and saying,
"It ok baby boy".
smoothing hair here, and ruffling it there.

Tolerate the urge to run from what you called in.
Saying you are not ready to face you, is bravery, not defeat, if only you could see this,
or maybe you do?

I love you, 
King to my Queen, 
I would be remise in my vow to you, in my devotion of you,
if I did not turn these veils upward ever-so slightly, 
catching the wind to lift me, 
and tear apart the green yellow shards of light, pulling till pink,
breaking, open at last the starry sky, 
in all its vast dark easiness. 

The view up here is simple, expected, full of familiarity.
I know this place.
Just as you do my dear King.
-Bernice Raabis

Tomorrows new moon will bring intentions of stepping forward again, into my femininity, into the dance of being lover, mother and mystic.
And so it is.

“What does the butterfly symbolize to you?“ is the question in 12 days journal #187

(This post is dedicated to KD, my fellow Shakti Bhakti sister, who sent me Definition of Priestess for Today's Times. Scroll down to the bottom of this link to read the comments)

October 15, 2009

Day 8 Committed To Self- Devotion

I am feeling a little sheepish to admit I have never really read any Osho. Seems a staunch new ager like myself, really should have dedicated some time to this Indian mystic and spiritual teacher, luckily I no longer believe in “should”. It is only 9:30 in the morning and I am already making confessions. I might as well keep them coming.

Sexuality is a very important form of spiritual expression for me. Bhakti, active involvement in Divine worship, is the stream of yoga which I resonate with most, the one which comes naturally. I consider lovemaking to be Bhakti, sex can be the ultimate act of devotion to God. I feel more connected during lovemaking than I do participating in any other form of worship, even singing and dancing, which says a lot! I have waded through some Tantric readings, and am usually left with a feeling of befuddlement, the rules and information often seem contradictory, out of alignment with my experience. Reading for knowledge and understanding has long been a struggle for me, I am much more of a hands on sort of womyn, I learn by doing. In this case doing “it” is how I have come to understand God, and perhaps some form of Tantra. When I make love I hear things, understand things, come to know things, I suppose it could be called channelling. I become aware of what works to bring me closer and what makes the Divine harder to reach. In this way I have navigated my way towards an ability to orgasm repeatedly, in varied ways. My connection is such that I have had an orgasm from hearing poetry read, inhaling my partners breath, thinking of my partner,or simply being touched through clothing, to name just a few of my glorious experiences. To be clear orgasm is in not the destination, lovemaking is the point of love making, paradoxically though keeping this intention seems to increase the orgasms. They certainly are a delicious perk, one which I believe opens a portal, to what I don’t know, but I know it is God.

Lately I have stumbled across a lot of ideas about sexuality which I resonate with. Michael is reading The Passionate Marriage,by David Schnarch, he has been reading me bits and pieces from its pages. What he reads to me is often information I already know, I don’t know how I know it, I just do. Like the idea that having an orgasm with my eyes open, looking with full reveal into my partners eyes can bring ecstasy and connection from allowing myself to be completely seen and that this will flow over into the rest of my relationship, allowing me to find healing through lovemaking. I knew this without knowing I knew it, something that David himself says is rare, and wonderful for those of us who are blessed to have found it.

This morning I was sent this quote of Osho’s by my friend KD:

“People are against me because I'm telling people how to love. I'm telling people how to love so deeply that love itself becomes your religion - that your woman one day disappears and you find God there; that your man one day disappears and you find God there; that one day, in deep communion, in deep orgasmic experience, in that ecstasy, for a moment you both disappear and there is only God and nothing else.

You have been taught down the ages to be against sex and that has made you very sexual. That's what has happened to the whole humanity: repressed sex has become the obsession.

People think I am teaching sexuality? I am teaching transcendence.


Remember, there is no need to be afraid of women, no need to be afraid of men. We are all alike, the same God. We have to learn how to love each other. We have to come closer to each other because that is the only way to come close to God. Love is one of the greatest doors to God, just as awareness is another. I teach you both: a loving awareness, a conscious love. And with this you will become integrated, you will attain individuation. - Osho”

Never were truer words spoken.

These words of Osho’s describe how I make love; knowing that my partner IS God, IS me, that WE are a beautiful manifestation of God, of ALL, in a glorious act of devotion. I have been asked what my secret is, how I do what I do in the act of making love, how I find such ecstasy. My secret is, Bhakti. A secret I want to share, have it be a secret no more, that making love with complete devotion is how I have attained glorious fulfillment within my soul, spirit, mind and body. Some others may have found this through toys, techniques, positions, rules, and I am so happy for anyone who is satisfied and fulfilled. I choose transcendence instead.

There is still plenty left to learn, I certainly don’t have all the answers, which is delightful and exciting! I am committed to fully accepting my sexuality and supporting others to do the same. I know that this is part of my calling, my reason for being here this time around.

My God, I can’t believe I am going to submit this, I am blushing at the idea. Truth, truth, and more truth...this is what I am here to do.....(clicking “Send to Blog” on my MacJournal blog program)


“How do you believe a person attains sexual fulfillment?” is the question in 12 days journal #186. I can’t wait for this one to return.

October 14, 2009

Day 7 Committed To Self- Ekadasi

Did you know today is Ekadasi? Me neither, and even if I did, I likely would not have considered this when deciding to travel today.

I am generally blessed by the travel fairies. I have been ubber late for flights before and still made it onboard, I usually get a great seat, have been given free hotel rooms, dinners, upgrades, and free drinks. I really feel like I am blessed. Today it is a little harder for me to see it this way. I suppose I may still be blessed, perhaps some terrible calamity lay ahead, all these obstacles which I have experienced today could have been to protect me from some bigger travel folly.

I didn’t pack last night, my flight was later in the day today , so I made the uncharacteristic decision to pack the day of travel. I was ready more than an hour early. We went down to town for coffee and even spent some time chatting since we were way ahead of the game. With time to spare, and plans to use that spare time shoe shopping, we, Michael and I, headed for the border. One forgotten passport and an unexpectedly long border crossing wait meant I missed my flight, but would be put standby on the next flight. One colicky starter engine later, I sit at the airport with a ticket for a 7:10 flight tomorrow morning...sigh...where are you travel fairies? I took a cab to the airport, a 23 dollar expense in order to save myself 104 dollars. If you miss a flight Southwest Airlines will fly you standby on the next available flight so long as you show up within 2 hours of your scheduled departure time. I got here with 20 minutes to spare and am waiting to hear from Michael, who is in the parking lot of Huckleberry's (a natural foods grocery store) waiting for the darn car to start. We are going to meet back up soon, and find a place to stay, maybe with my friend Arika, who once told me “If you ever get stuck in Spokane.....”; we are stuck in Spokane. My friend KD was suppose to pick me up in Oakland, actually my plane is landing there as I type this. When I called her she informed me that today is Ekadasi, a day in Vedic astrology which is reputed to be a terrible time to travel. I will have to consult her in future when I book travel dates.


I do trust it all, you know the old “everything happens for a reason” mentality. I know this experience has lessons and opportunities, potential for growth. What I am wondering is do you think it is an opportunity to go stay at a swanky hotel, learn a lesson about great restaurants in Spokane and a growth opportunity in that I can eat a pint of ice cream while sitting in bed watching TV, try to put back on some of the weight I lost in the last month? If only I was still doing the indulgence commitment!

“Have you ever been on a trip that went very differently than it was planned?” is the question in 12 days journal #185

October 13, 2009

Day 6 Commited To Self- Midway

I am midway through this commitment. I am in a far different place than when I started. I am so grateful that I choose to make this commitment, to let it take 12 days. I am learning patience. I am so grateful to have many wise teachers to guide me in the ways of patience.

“Do you remember a teacher who made a huge impact on your life?” is the question in 12 days journal #184

October 12, 2009

Day 5 Committed To Self- I'm So Thankful

I am Thankful for breakfast with my family, in a sunny breakfast nook.
I am Thankful for Oso Negro coffee.
I am Thankful for hoards of friends coming over for a big meal at our newly refreshed and revitalized home.
I am Thankful for natures medicine.
I am Thankful for the adventures coming up in California.
I am Thankful for abundant food, water, and space.
I am Thankful for music.
I am Thankful for yoga. Bhakti, Karma and Assana especially.
I am Thankful for chocolate.
I am Thankful for dance and a dance tribe the whole world over, many of whom I have not met yet.
I am Thankful for conversations that are real and from the heart.
I am Thankful for quite times, reading and writing with family nearby.
I am Thankful for alone time.
I am Thankful for nature. Glories, chaotic nature in all it’s haphazard tenacity.
I am Thankful for little insights, glimpses into the nature and tenderness of those I love, windows of deep understanding.
I am Thankful for art in all its forms, for its ability to communicate the human condition, and help me to feel a part of the world.
I am Thankful for humour, laughter, silliness, and cuddles.
I am Thankful for the new cuddle space in my house which is always filled with bodies, bodies that know a good thing when they feel it.
I am Thankful for writing, the sweet, beautiful, blissful outlet of this page right here, where I can artfully be me. “Living artfully with the wounded self”
I am Thankful for many many many things...so many I could go on and on and on......
but I am also Thankful for time, time to live outside this page, to do things other than writing, so I will stop here for now... well right after I add one more.

(The quality is not great, a writer I am, a filmmaker I am not!)

I am Thankful for you, whomever you are who is reading this now, you. I am Thankful that I am part of your life, whatever that means for us, for you, for me. I am Thankful for all the ways you contribute to this 12 days 2 inspire project, how you support me, love me, accept me.
I am Thankful for you.

“What happened today that you are thankful for?” is the question in 12 days journal #183

October 11, 2009

Day 4 Committed To Self- Ohm Sweet Ohm

I have a home again. Well I should say I have MY home again...finally. After over 4 months of living in my mothers basement, a one bedroom suite plus studio, with 7 people, I now have my own home back. And how things have changed since I last lived here.

I met Michael On June 6th, spring had just begun, he slept here the night we met...God my mother reads this blog I can’t believe I am writing this, not to mention my daughter is a follower. ACK! This night we spent together was one of the last I ever slept here, up on the mountain in my cozy little home. Mind you it wasn’t so cozy back then, I hated it to be perfectly honest. Felt like living in a bad suburban nightmare, and not a nice suburb either. The structure itself is sound, the lay out is decent, the location phenomenal, but the outside and inside were terrible. My mother, renovator extraordinaire, came up here in the spring to renovate the bedrooms, and ended up moving walls around, putting in more windows, revamping the kitchen and redoing two bathrooms. The inside of the house is completely transformed.

Tonight is my first night back, with my newly configured family. Chris, Bernice, Michael, Ayla, Lily and Rosy. Kelly lives with her other partner in town, but has a drawer in the bathroom and a spot in the closet. I suspect she will be here quite often, that it will be her home too. Tomorrow we will host a Thanksgiving dinner for 16 people. (For my lovely American readers, Canadian Thanksgiving is on the second Monday of October). There are still plenty of boxes lying round the house, and plenty more down at my moms, but it is nicely arranged and ready for a feast.

“What are you thankful for?“ is the question in 12 days journal #182

I am thankful for my mom. I am thankful for her love. I am thankful that she shares with my family the incredible talents she has. She has amazing vision, can take a sow’s ear and transform it into an exquisite silk purse. She did so with our budget in mind creating a whole new home with very little. She is resourceful and can create simple solutions. And in case you get the idea that she is an interior decorator who makes the plans, while others do all the work, I will have you know my mom is willing to get down and dirty. She can use a skill saw with precision and will make sure she is the first to use any new tool when it arrives on site. You don’t want to get between her and any renovation fun! I am thankful for a home which inspires me, one I am drawn to ”go home“ to, one like I have now. Thank you mama...from the bottom of my heart, thank you.

(my new kitchen)

I am also thankful for my family. I know ”my family“ normally just makes the Thanksgiving Dinner list along with “this food”, but this year is different for me. This year, as I sit and devour turkey dinner with my crew, I have a new appreciation for how fragile, adaptable and courageous a thing family can be. The last few months have not been filled with ease. They have been filled with love, joy, laughter, passion, excitement and adventure, but not ease. There have been other things too; anger, fear, distrust, misunderstanding, sadness, a lot of sadness. If I were to tell you that things have been easy you would know I was lying anyway, that or I know you have NOT been reading regularly! What I can say with complete conviction is life has been real, very very real. Learning to live with 2 other adults, while parenting, and living under my mom (did I mention the two dogs and eleven fish?) has taught me to live out loud, to face myself in ways I have never had to before, to chose my choice, even when it seems too hard, too scary. I have no idea what this winter brings with its gobs of snow and icy fun, but I am ever so thankful for the last 3 seasons. I have had a Spring to meet a new life partner, a Summer to discover one another and a fall to test our resistance to storm. On December 22nd of this year Michael will have been with us for 4 seasons. A friend once told me her mother would often say “Give it four season”. I plan to make it many many more than that. Thank you family, I love each and everyone of you and am blessed to share my life with you.

October 10, 2009

Day 3 Committed To Self- Let's Go Home

Let’s Go Home
Late and starting to rain, it’s time to go home
We’ve wandered long enough in empty buildings.
I know it is tempting to stay and meet those new people.
I know it’s even more sensible
to spend the night here with them,
but I want to go home.

We’ve seen enough beautiful places with signs on them
Saying “This is God’s House”
That’s seeing the grain like the ants do,
without the work of harvesting.
Let’s leave grazing the the cows and go
where we know what everyone really intends,
where we can walk around without clothes on.


I want to go home. I want to live in my home again...where I can walk around with no clothes on.

“Where do you consider to be your home?” is the question in 12 days journal #181

October 9, 2009

Day 2 Committed To Self- Truth...ugh.

Sigh...I have to tell you if I were a regular reader of this blog, I might wonder if I could handle reading it anymore. I am caught between a rock and a hard place. The strong intention I hold for this blog, an intention that crept up on me, surprised me with the sheer voracity with which I am dedicated to it, is being real. Telling you all what is REALLY going on. Sometimes I leave out the details, to protect the innocent, but the truth as I see it is here all the same, deep personal truth. So what do I do now? Now that I am caught up in this crazy storm. I posted yesterday about storming in my relationship with Michael, this is but one of the storms. Going back into therapy, storming with Michael, moving back into our house, my trip to California coming up, then home for 3 days and off to Washington to dance with Vinn, Michael, and my Soul Motion tribe.....as I type this and get to the end, I imagine myself in the room surrounded by so many loved ones, many of whom I will be meeting for the first time, I and see a light at the end of this tunnel....ahh...wow.....writing that sentence brought a physical relief, the tight heaviness in my chest let go, my lungs were able to fully expand for the first time in what seems like days. Writing is such a blessing.

This morning the idea that I lacked the tools to actually make it through this troubled time crawled through the fibres of my brain, repeated over and over, laying down deep ruts, ruts that could flip a wagon filled with all that is precious to me. I look down in this moment at the little ripped piece of paper taped to my keyboard, a new one which lives next to the old one about courage, they share a corner of tape. This new affirmation flaps precariously and could easily be torn off, seems like a metaphor to me:

“When you believe something you have made it true for you.”

I believe everything is going to be ok, this is my truth. Right now though this belief lives in my head, my heart has pulled the covers up and is hiding. My passionate, sensitive heart which has an idea that it is being judged for being just that, passionate, is having a hard to committing to faith. Regardless of whether this level of passion, of energy behind my words and actions is healthy, it is where I am at right now. I have to love and trust this me, she is all I have in this moment. I have spent most of my life with a steady hand, able to navigate conversations and situations with grace and ease, without tears, this is my default setting. Right now though I stifle tears, which rebel by emerging in my voice, I am doing the best I can, and wishing me different only serves to create distance, again caught between a rock and a hard place. Wanting to allow what is truly alive to live its way out of my body, be dealt with, while at the same time not wanting to subject myself to judgement and the possibility of more pain. I have no more space for pain, I can not put more into this cup than it holds, it just flows out all over the floor, creating a sticky mess. I know you can’t support me all the time, in fact I don’t want you to, I don’t like being seen like this. I have done myself the disservice of choosing to believe I was the only support that was safe, this letting myself be seen in my pain thing is brand new, and right now from this murky space where my perspective is skewed by tears and pain, it seems as though it has been a disaster to share. Makes me want to run away, not in body, this body needs to stick around to pick up socks and do the laundry, the rest of me though wants to run, do this on my own, the very thing I am told time and time again I need to stop doing.

Rock...me...Hard place.

I will get through this, this I know for certain. I am strong as nails, pointed hard steel created from years of NOT allowing myself to be supported. I will find balance, I will find growth, I will always be loved, I will thrive, I will fulfill my dreams...all of them. This is the middle part. I wrote to a loved one recently that he can’t skip the middle part, perhaps I need to heed my own words of wisdom.

Words that came when in the midst of the storm, written with a shaking hand and a heavy scared heart.

When all things become pain.
Thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking, thinking,
always so much thinking.
Numb the thinking and the body takes over,
shaking at first, sweet relief.
Till the pain moves in, takes up more than it’s fair share.
Always pain, nowhere to hide.
Pain takes away pain,
like cures like.
A homeopathic act to bring relief
and bruises.
outward proof of pain.
Saggy skin where soft womyn flesh used to live,
a reminder of how empty this feels.
How big a space there is to be filled,
space occupied by recycled stale air,
used over and over,
by the thinking, thinking, thinking.

I have put off posting this entry, it is why I am days behind. I plan to bury it, post three other entries right on top, hoping it goes unnoticed. It is terribly edited, I can’t stand the constant rereading which is part of the editing process, the way I whittle the entries down, make them concise. So here it is in all its misery and unedited glory, buried and hidden, but posted and right here for the world to see. This mild deception is how I am dealing with the space between the rock, and that hard hard place of telling the truth.

“What is truth?“ is the question in 12 days journal #180

October 8, 2009

Day 1 Committed to Self- Storm

I was introduced to the concept of “Form, Storm, Norm, Perform” by my friend KD. Here is the basic idea:

Forming happens when people first come together. They are initially polite and the conversation is mostly exploratory, finding out about one another and the work that is to be done.

People here are typically in the 'honeymoon' period and are quite excited about the newness and potential of being in the team. Some also may be more fearful and timid, whilst others are less gregarious, observing from the sidelines more than getting in there and exposing themselves

As the initial politeness fades, people start to get more into the work and their roles and so start to argue about things that were left unsaid or not realized when they first met.

Storming can be fiercer if one or more conditions exist:

* More than one dominant person who wants to be the leader (formal and/or social).
* Unclear formal roles
* Unclear objectives
* Little or large external threat

As roles and personal conflicts are sorted out, the focus turns towards the task and what needs to be done. Objectives are clarified and the detail of work is laid out. Feeling more as a team, people start to help one another more.

Socially, group rules develop and are refined. People begin to feel like they are members of the same team and form a clear sense of identity. Internal conflict may be replaced with external conflict as the human focus turns to 'us and them.'

Finally, a steady-state is achieved, where the team reaches and optimal level of performance. A good team will feel like a happy family whilst other teams reach working agreements where personal differences are managed and largely kept under control.

This is mostly geared at groups which work together. I think though that it also applies to a group of two, working out a life together.

I belive I am in the storm....and it seems to be lasting a long time, I am afraid we will not make it through.

“Was there a time you thought you wouldn’t get through something then did?“ is the question in 12 days journal #179, because I need to know it can be done.

Latest Commitment! Not Named

Today marks the day that 12 days journal #179 goes out into the world. It also marks the day that I have 179 days left in this project. As the start date of this project was a little ambiguous, what with it starting before I knew it was starting and that it took me a few days to come up with the idea for the journals, I am deciding that TODAY is the official halfway point....I have written more entries than I have left, this feels very good.

In honour of this I am going to do something I haven’t done before. I am going to do a private commitment, one that only I know about, no one else. As it is very personal, I may or may not revel the commitment at the end. I will be calling it the 12 Days That Shall Not Be Named. If you are one of the folk who is doing these commitments along with me choose something that is personal, something that needs reflection, deep work, then do it for the next 12 days. Perhaps set yourself a commitment to ponder one thing for 12 days and to make a decision about it.

October 7, 2009

Day 12 Sans Coffee- Gaping

I judge everything I write; erase everything that comes out. I don’t want to share it, I want to hide. At the same time I crave the transparency, to keep up the “bravery” that I am constantly getting kudos for, soak it in, use it as salve to make these wounds close up, these gaping wounds. The truth is I don’t feel brave, I feel confused, I feel angry, and I feel SAD SAD SAD...I feel like giving up. I feel like all my dreams are slipping through my hands, and that each is attached to another which slips slips slips away, one after the other. And I am ashamed to post this, ashamed of feeling this weak, ashamed that I can’t better explain to the people I love how I feel, what I want, and what I believe. I am tired of being judged by those who claim not to judge, blamed by those who claim not to blame, I am tired of judging, and blaming. I am just fucking tired.

I am afraid of letting a dream die... and I am not sure which one.

“Is there something you wish you would have done, but never did?” is the question in 12 days journal #178

October 6, 2009

Day 11 San Coffee- Probing

Today was penetrated by the deep, probing curiosity of bliss.
reaching far inside, opening, letting go
of fear
of being
of going
and coming
patience dancing like the tip of a finger on the pleasure button of possibility.

Apparently not everyone is experiencing writers block. I found this on my computer, right here in my Mac Journal program, in the slot for today's entry. Seems the perfect entry for today. Michael is the author. My sexy poet man.

“What do you look for in a partner?” is the question in 12 days journal #177

October 5, 2009

Day 10 Sans Coffee- Past

I went to therapy today with Chris. We are dealing with some stuff that happened shortly after Chris’ head injury. He was really sick then. I hid what was going on in our family, from basically everyone. Dark times. So today, over 2 years later, I went to our family counsellor, an amazing womyn named Lilli, and realized in doing so that I am reluctant to look back. It scares me. My past has many crazy events which helped to create this womyn that I am proud to be, this doesn’t mean I want to relive them though. Lilli says I don’t need to. I don’t understand how this is possible, to heal the past without looking at it, but I trust her. Though I am reluctant to enter back into therapy, I am going to.

Lilli has a ritual. When we leave her office, she has a basket filled with affirmations and inspirational sayings. I love this part. Love the tarot card style of drawing little pieces of paper which always seem to be the perfect parting words for any session. Today I got:

“When you don’t keep looking back, it’s that much easier not to trip and fall.”


“How has your past effected who you have become?” is the question in 12 days journal #176

Still no inspiration to write...I am beginning to worry.

October 4, 2009

Day 9 Sans Coffee- Help!

Still nothing...is this writers block? I am actually writing this 3 days after this entry date and submitting it late. I just keep thinking I will come up with something. HELP!

“Do you ask for help when you need it?” is the question in 12 days journal #175

October 3, 2009

Day 8 Sans Coffee- No Stress

“The greatest weapon against stress is our ability to choose one thought over another”
William James

What is causing me stress at the moment is this crazy thing that happens when I sit down to write and can’t find a thing that seems even slightly interesting. My thoughts were turning to ‘Oh no! I have used up all my good stuff, I am all shrivelled up!’. Instead I am going to choose this thought. ‘I am a talented writer who is just experiencing a little glitch in my inspiration process, all is well’. I feel less stressed already...and yes I am lying.

“What are you good at?” is the question in 12 days journal #174

October 2, 2009

Day 7 Sans Coffee- Coffee

I writing in my back corner here at Oso, the coffee smells so good...just 5 more days...sigh. I was wondering about being addicted. I mean I haven’t had any headaches, no cravings when I am not actually around the stuff, I don’t know that I am addicted. It is the taste I miss, the sweet creamy foam on the top of a cappuccino.....argh...maybe I am addicted....5 more days.

I wrote the following about a month ago, then some big inspiration swooped in, I wrote a second post and submitted that one instead. I am posting this today in honour of my love for Oso Negro coffee...my long lost friend. I am posting it also partly due to laziness. If I could have coffee maybe I could muster the inspiration for something original? Anyway.....

“I am sitting in Oso, wondering what to talk about, or should I say what to write about, talking at Oso is never a problem. I write here often, I have a protocol for being left alone, which works sometimes and not others. My favourite table in Oso Negro is the big back table in the Northwest corner. I can watch the town come and go from this spot, tucked away. If I wear my headphones, which usually don’t even have music playing through them, people stay away. From here I can write, watch, drink coffee; many of the entries you have read have been produced in exactly this fashion. A lot of the time though, I don’t want people to stay away. Nelson is a fabulous town, sure it has its glaring holes and rough edges, but all in all it is a wonderfully inspiring place to live, and it is the people who make it so. This little spot in Nelson where I often write, really is the centre of the universe, mine anyway. If I sit here long enough a member of my family will eventually walk in, there is always a member of my extended chosen family here, and there is no shortage of exceptional and usually fairly quirky folk around to talk to. There is generally a line out the door for coffee, this place can get very loud! Which brings me to the coffee. I know I may not win friends with this comment but I feel that I must honestly state that Oso Negro (which is Latin for Black Bear by the way) has the best coffee there is. I feel confident saying so since I have sampled coffee the world over, or close enough. Everyone who works here is very well trained, I believe you have to work here 6 months before you are even allowed to touch the espresso machine. My friend Dana, who was a barista elsewhere before moving to Nelson, has been working here at least 4 months, I have yet to see her pull a coffee. Yes I love coffee, and I love Oso, and I love Nelson”

“What is amazing about where you live?“
is the question in 12 days journal#173

October 1, 2009

Day 6 Sans Coffee- Run!

For the first time in a long time I don’t feel like being honest. I don’t want you all to know that I am STILL struggling, the promise of the end of retrograde has not alleviated this troubled heart. Perhaps I need to stop listening to Alexi Murdoch every day while I write, he is a poet and a saint but admittedly a tad depressing.

Ok I just sat staring at the computer trying to come up with something. Without honesty I have nothing to work with...damn.

Oh I have something! I have made 24 journals in the last 2 days! So I have journals to give out, and leave places. If you see me walking down the street ask me for one or let me know you would like one by email 12days2inspire@gmail.com (include your address if you are from out of town).

“Tap Tap Tap”...these are my fingers rapping against the table. Nothing yet.

Looks like I am running away from today’s entry, looks like running away IS today’s entry.

“Have you ever run away?” is the question in 12 days journal #172

“The house of cards is falling and I’m rebuilding”
-My friend Kim