(I accidentally disappeared this and have now reappeared it thanks to someone’s rss feeder)

The first thing I will tell you is that I get so enraptured with the
shades of green and the tendrils of light that unfurl across my floors
and the sounds of my pets breathing softly and the birds nesting in my
eaves and the rush of being in transition and encounters with people I
love so completely that I don’t always come around to this website for

But you will not worry, my dears. You know the sound of all-is-well
when you hear it.

You want to be so overcome with the delights of your own life that
your knees get a little weak and worry slips off you. You want to
build a way of living that is like a rapture to your soul and silk on
your skin – it fits but it’s easy to slip off, and feels so close to
naked when it’s on. You want to be surrounded by things that take your
attention so deeply to the core of life and the core of who you are
that unless a task is right in front of your face you wont fully
realize it exists. It would be hard to learn that from someone just as
fettered with their concerns as you are.

My own life is the model of what I can help people come to in their
own life. It’s my playing field, my laboratory and testing grounds. If
I want to understand something, I get as close to it as a I can. I let
it take me to it’s extremes and show me all it’s facets. If I can’t
access it myself in some way, I can’t pass it on. The stuff that suits
me, that draws me more fully into my life, I keep close to my skin –
the rest I keep in books. And what suits me is letting my pleasure
lead, and my inner wisdom round out how I account for my days. I crave
to be useful like any soul does – but I don’t have swells of ambition
about it. Mostly, I am ravenous for the kind of self knowing that sets
everything at ease and makes sheer, unfettered presence possible. When
someone is asking me to help them uncover the same kind of self
knowing and instinct for life for themselves, my entire being reorders
itself around the effort. I dissolve into the task.

The same way I dissolve into the particulars of these sweet moments.
This morning is feeling particularly intoxicating because I’ve just
returned from Manhattan to find a spring has rioted lustily around me.
Green in debauch quantities languish across the limpid sky. The
inhabitants of my mini zoo are utterly content and every little motion
I make (pouring espresso beans into the grinder, slicing an orange,
even filling the dishwasher) have a patina of romance to them from the
deliberateness and attention to each sensation. The city was handsome
and romantic, too. But the whirling, dizzy, can’t-keep-up-with-love
kind that leaves your cheeks flushed and your heart racing.

I digress. Being caught up like this isn’t about being flaky,
unreliable, distant and disconnected. It’s just that the best of what
I have to share with others happens in real time and then it passes –
and that’s the work I care about – being available to that magic. I
love this unleashing home, too – but it’s capable of being as vivid
and vital and pulsing as one-to one, real-time. When I am not updating
posts it’s because I’m in the real world being utterly present to
clients, to beauty, to desire, to the medial realms, to my family and
home. But I am not hiding. I check my email frequently, my phone is
turned on, I even leave my door unlocked so friends who stop by don’t
have to worry whether or not i’m there (my cats are indiscriminating

If you miss me or just feel the urge to be in touch, leave a comment –
be conversational or inquisitive, it doesn’t have to be relevant to
the post – I love to hear from you, I love to keep in touch and share
the stories of our days and our ruminations – especially random,
off-topic inspirations that strike us and don’t let go until someone
has heard them.

Just remember to enjoy the lushness of the quiet times.


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