Project Lovely Things #13

 

rejuvenating mid-day naps ~ pizza at Starvin’ Marvin’s with Jessie and his friends ~ spending 45 minutes at the prize machine, totally robbing it ~  peace froggy stuffed animal! ~ walking into the movie theater with sixteen stuffed animals ~ giving said stuffed animals away during the movie ~ stillness ~ rain ~ bonfires ~ s’mores ~ hikes in the sunshine ~ roiling waves ~ an old dog that is a puppy at heart ~ goofing off with my love ~ clear, gorgeous days ~ buying our plane tickets for Monday! ~ packing ~ hanging out with my family and Jessie ~ Jennasea hugs ~ singing ~ taking Jennasea on a hike with us and the dog ~ calm water ~ sea otters ~ awestruck tourists ~ eagles, everywhere ~ open mic night at Kbay – the talented people of Homer! ~ long, lazy mornings ~ going to see and say goodbye to one of my old friends ~ touching her pregnant belly, marveling at life within ~ gratitude ~ sitting in the sunshine on my parent’s deck, reading 1984 by George Orwell ~ loving life completely

And The Sun Shines Through

The past few months, there have been so many obstacles.

Too many. It was getting to the point that it was feeling as though the Universe, as beautiful as it is, wasn’t wanting us there. I was getting frustrated and angry and sad and irritable.

And then the magic call comes from his work. The call that says he doesn’t have to work for another two weeks. And we looked at each other and knew – we can leave for Maui next week. He may be able to only be there for a scarce ten days with me, but we can leave.

Is it okay that I feel totally overwhelmed right now, and is it okay if our imminent departure hasn’t hit my brain quite yet? That the feelings of frustration are still lingering, blinking and staring uncomprehending at the sudden burst of sunlight through the concrete cloud cover?

The flower is blooming in me and turning towards the sun, and I pray with every cell in my being that all the minutes of the coming days go by fast, fast, faster, until I am staring out the plane window, that island in the sun swirling underneath – and the plane, descending onto the tarmac.

Aloha, Maui. It’s good to see you again.

Project Lovely Things #12

 

I’ve missed the last two regularly scheduled posts, including Wanderlust Wednesdays, for a very important reason – the love of my life got back Tuesday night and I’ve been spending every spare moment with him! He will be leaving in two-ish weeks to go again, so I’ll be spending as much time with him as I can. Thus, if I miss a few posts, that’s to be expected! And soon, I’ll be moving to Maui and will have even more to write about, so the lack of posts lately will be more than made up for!

Tidepools ~ Jennasea hula hooping ~ laughing, playing kids in the sun at Two Sister’s ~ big ol’ moose chomping away at the grass right outside my window ~ singing at sunset in my car at the beach ~ listening to music and writing ~ reading in the sun ~ dance party with Jennasea and friends on the sunny deck ~ drumming music and meditation ~ nag champa ~ beeswax candle made by a good friend ~ classical music ~ adorable three-year-old – the stuff they say! ~ warm wind ~ travel writing ~ wanderlust ~ a squirt of water from a clam in the sand ~ the dimple in the sand left by said clam ~ singing by the small, low-tide waves ~ napping on a sunny hill ~ eagles ~ the excited anticipation of standing in the airport, waiting ~ the first hug and kiss from the one you love after a long separation ~ sleeping, cuddling ~ holding hands ~ waking up to him ~ breakfast with Jessie and Jennasea ~ Beltane celebration! Bonfire, hula hooping, drumming, ritual invocation and poetry, Maypole dance, hugs from unlikely people ~ the feeling of community ~ shared spiritual beliefs ~ cloudy, lazy day with my love Jessie ~ breakfast at Two Sisters with said love ~

Love for a Fisherman

The day is insistent out there, weaving warmth between the chilled wind, and I’m curling up in a homemade wooden chair on my parent’s deck, drinking in the delicious sacredness of the late morning. The clouds are only a whisper in the sky, and I feel that blooming in my chest, and my giddy legs aching to get up and run, run, run – to our small-town, one-gate airport, and wait hours for the anticipated moment of the arrival door opening and those lanky limbs swinging through and back into my arms again.

After four months, back into my arms again.

I see the look on people’s faces, sometimes – people who haven’t grown up in Alaska, who aren’t used to our lifestyle. I see the confused spark in their eyes, and I can almost hear the thought running through their minds. Because being in love with a fisherman, being in love with someone who is gone most of the year…it should be hard.

And I can almost hear them asking me why I don’t just find someone else, someone who’s there more. And I laugh and I say that maybe I don’t mind it because I grew up used to it. Maybe daughters really do marry men who are like their fathers, because mine was gone most of the year ever since I was small. I grew up knowing that it’s O.K. for partners to go away; and besides, with them gone, I indulge in my independence and do all those wonderful things I love to do on my own: writing, travel, spirituality…

But it is hard, sometimes. It’s hard because there’s mornings when I wake up and I desperately need a hug only he can give. It’s hard because there are times when I feel that delicious sacredness in the air, and I want to share that feeling with him. Because being alone is wonderful, but there are times when you long for someone who understands the thoughts that run through your mind.

Tonight, I’ll get that back. For a brief few weeks, then he’ll be gone again. But that’s okay, because it just means that every moment will be a perfect one, and when he’s gone, I’ll tuck those moments up into a little package and carry them with me, until I see him once more, and I fall in love all over again.

“I want to see you.

Know your voice.

Recognize you when you
first come ’round the corner.

Sense your scent when I come
into a room you’ve just left.

Know the lift of your heel,
the glide of your foot.

Become familiar with the way
you purse your lips
then let them part,
just the slightest bit,
when I lean in to your space
and kiss you.

~Rumi

Project Lovely Things #11

 

Hanging out with my mom, watching movies, talking ~ warm sunshine ~ letting go ~ dancing to classic rock with kids ~ inspirational music ~ Jennasea and her adorable friends ~ cooking dinner for my family ~ friends ~ pink sun sets ~ lunch with dad ~ walks on the beach ~ rain ~ Earl Grey tea ~ writing ~ poetry ~ calls from Jessie (he’ll be back in a day or two!) ~ art with Jennasea ~ drawing and painting mandalas ~ Marilyn Monroe movies ~quiet mornings drinking tea in Two Sisters ~ Full pink Moon ~ lunar eclipse ~ manifestation ~ clearing the chakras ~ warm (!!!!) sunny morning sun

The Phoenix, The Goddess, and The Gemini

There’s still inner work to do. The Universe keeps whispering it in my ear : all is not over yet. There are still past-tendrils to pull apart, still garbage to take out, still creation to cultivate.

It shows itself in my weekly astrology: “There is only one corner of the universe you can be certain of improving, and that’s your own self.”

It shows itself in the oracle card I pulled, the rainy day reflecting on its glossy surface: the phoenix. Surrender to change. Creation rising up out of the ashes of destruction.

Because being reborn is a lot more painful than I bargained for, and it’s asking more from me than I thought it would. Because Pele has her arms wrapped around me, her fingers trailing burning embers in my skin, demanding me to break down every part of me, leading me to the dark, sticky parts for me to shed fire-light on. Spirit-light. Reclaim those parts of me that have been infiltrated by those outside of myself.

And as those parts peel painfully, slowly, away, that feeling steals over me again; that feeling I struggled with those couple weeks, those couple years ago and simply ignored then: an immensity, so big and expansive it bursts out of the corners of the room, the wood and walls splintering under its pressure. The knowledge that the world is made of chaos, the world is made of playfulness, the world is made of beauty – and those cannot be contained within a house, or within the carefully drawn boundaries of our minds.

The immensity is shedding light on those unnecessary boundaries I’ve drawn for myself, those boxes and houses I’ve built within. It’s demanding me to unblock my throat, set my legs running, my hair on fire and my soul screeching for depth, crying out for a (commune)ity that asks me the difficult questions, the questions that make my Spirit and my Soul burst out in a bonfire, in a frenzy of life and love and wonder – instead of “what strange weather we’re having?”

How easy it should be to just let go!

Shame I wasn’t born with that gene, the Zen gene that sees the world as a game and smiles in the face of difficulty, calm and joyful in the midst of the breaking down of the Self. I had a friend once who was like that – peace seeping out through the pores of their skin, as if, at eighteen, they were already enlightened.

There is still inner work for me to do – an incredible amount of it, and it’s so easy to slip into the same habits and frustrations and circles and words. I pray to Pele, and I invoke the Phoenix, and I try my best to allow myself to surrender to the flow of Rebirth and of Reclaiming – and I know it will take a lot more than a few weeks to accomplish.

When? When?

 

Wanderlust Wednesdays: Ayer’s Rock/Uluru, Northern Territory, Australia

While I was in Australia, after I was in Adelaide and before I went to Darwin, I spent 3 days at Ayer’s Rock, indigenous name Uluru. To be quite honest, I should have only spent two days and one night there! It was terribly expensive – the only grocery store there was part of the National Park and was extremely pricey, not to mention there wasn’t much to do there unless you were with a group or were friends with the locals that lived and worked near the rock. Since I was neither, there wasn’t much for me to do.

Once I saw the rock, I spent the rest of the time chilling in the shade (it was sooooo hot there!), drinking iced tea and beer (but not together) and reading The Da Vinci Code. The rock itself? Well…I know a lot of people consider it a very spiritual place, and maybe I was just feeling disconnected that week or something, but I went to the rock once, looked at it and thought “It’s a big…red….rock. In the desert. Alrighty. Nice cave paintings. Huh. K, where’s the next water fountain?”, walked around maybe a quarter of it, then went back to the hostel.

Not that I don’t recommend people go to it – if you’re into interesting geographical formations and indigenous spiritual places, go for it. Or, if you’re a spiritual person, there’s all kinds of retreats that go there every year. It’s definitely one of those “go there at least once” places. It just simply wasn’t my “thing”, I suppose.

Anywho, some facts about Uluru: It is also called Ayer’s Rock, and it was named so by William Gosse in 1873 after Sir Henry Ayers, who was Premier of South Australia at the time. It was created some 600 million years ago, stands 348 meters above the ground, but  was originally at the bottom of a sea. About 2.5 kilometers of its bulk remains underground. It is owned by the Aboriginal tribe the Anangu, although the Australian government holds a 99-year lease. The climb to the top of the rock – which I can’t recommend you do, because it trespasses on this Aboriginal sacred site, and is thus disrespectful – is 1.6 kilometers long. Uluru is actually naturally grey, but the iron content of the rock is “rusting” at the surface, resulting in the red.

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