Reverb10. December 22.

Travel. How did you travel in 2010? How and/or where would you like to travel next year? (from Tara Hunt)

 

 

Back to Paris would be lovely.

Or Hawaii.

One day I’ll get to Australia, New Zealand, Asia, and Africa.

But

In 2011 I would like to travel deeper into

myself.

Into stillness.

Into that vast inner expanse that contains the Universe in its entirety

and the kernel of my Soul.

Reverb10. December 21.

Future self. Imagine yourself five years from now. What advice would you give your current self for the year ahead? (Bonus: Write a note to yourself 10 years ago. What would you tell your younger self?) (from Jenny Blake, author of Life After College)

 

 

December 21, 2015

Dear Alana,

Always turn toward love.

Stay open.

Follow your heart.

Stay present.

Trust.

Everything is perfect.

I love you, (you are worth loving)

Reverb10. December 20

Beyond avoidance. What should you have done this year but didn’t because you were too scared, worried, unsure, busy or otherwise deterred from doing? (Bonus: Will you do it?) (from Jake Nickell)

As I sat down this morning, rain pounding overhead, coffee at my side, hours earlier than I normally write, I was tempted to stand up again and walk away. Avoidance? Really? I’ve been slapped so hard by life this year avoidance wasn’t an option.

I stood up. I walked away. I got a decaf. I thought about Amy Oscar pointing out that the prompts we avoid have a story to tell. I came back.

Honesty.

As much as I’ve poured myself onto the page this year, as much as I’ve opened up and let go, I haven’t been totally honest. With myself. With the people in my life. Here, in this venue. Mostly honest, yes, but not 100%.

That’s hard to admit.

It came up in my meditation last night. I gush about my heart beating gratitude (and it does) and how my life has changed (it has). But if you could have seen me last night, grumpy, unhappy, beating myself up for not getting enough done, avoiding intimacy. Well. That’s the other half of the story.

There are words I’ve left unsaid for years. They play on repeat in my mind. Why haven’t I let them out?

There are truths I’m afraid to tell.

There are pieces of myself I am afraid to love.

Reverb10. December 19.

Healing. What healed you this year? Was it sudden, or a drip-by-drip evolution? How would you like to be healed in 2011? (From Leonie Allan)

There are levels of healing. Gradations. Like paint chips, or fine wine, the colors and flavors deepening subtly. I’ve broken many times over this year and the healing has been profound. Ivory to Marigold to Saffron. Sand to Cocoa to Polished Mahogany to Caviar to Mud.

My body has been healed by physical therapy, chiropractic, surgery, acupuncture, Reiki, applied kinesiology, myofascial release, diet changes, supplements, sleep.

My mind, my heart and my spirit have been healed by touch, by love, by voices over the phone. They’ve been healed by Reiki too, by prayers sent from all over the world, by angels, by the right words at the right time, by the Divine.

It turns out the grief of losing a child is healing wounds I didn’t even know existed. Grief is what forced me to look deeper into myself, to open my heart to all the pain I’ve been hiding behind. Grief has made me a seeker, and a healer myself. Grief turned the leaky faucet method of healing into a flood and every layer peeled away has revealed another, and another, and another, until I’m left staring into the essence of myself, amazed, confused, delighted, stunned. For a moment I take my own breath away. Then the layers fold back in on themselves, like a flower at the last rays of sun. Peeling them back again, there are fewer to heal. I go deeper. I continue on.