Guest House

“This being human is a guest house. Every morning a new arrival; a joy, a depression, a meanness, some momentary awareness comes as an unexpected visitor. Welcome and attend them all. Even if they’re a crowd of sorrows… still, treat each guest honourable. He may be clearing you out for some new delight.” (Rumi)

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ISO a Stronger Connection

{*Published after the fact, back in the big city. I miss the quiet; my brain feels rattled already on a particularly noisy night in my ‘hood.}

I say all the time that I need to unplug more. All. The. Time. What does it take for me take to actually do this at this point in the frightfully embarrassing addiction/dependency game? Sad as it is, the physical absence of a strong WiFi signal, allowing me to power down and attention up. Tune in. Reconnect. Reboot. Re-root.

To listen. Really listen.

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The wind is the loudest thing I hear—and, now, also the glug glug glugging of paddles powering by on the nearby lake. I tune in more, and I notice that’s not all…more instruments contribute to this background playlist; there is a bird’s stuttering whistle, a neighbor’s faint sneeze, a cloth cabin strap’s boomeranging zinnngggg, a dog’s high-pitched yelp. I kick off my flops, cos I want to feel the pine needles under my toes, the Earth under the soles of my city feet.

The breeze blows, and I am cold, but I am happy. I am alone under this verdant canopy—just me and the trees and the slowly-lowering afternoon sun. (Oh, and that robin over there popping, hopping through a pine cone obstacle course of sorts.)

I try to read or journal or write or anything, but I get stuck watching the light dapples dance on the cabin “roof” next door. There is everything to see, everything to do—but nothing all at once.

This attentiveness, it is rare. It is needed. I vow (yet again) to get it back.

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Big June

My June? It was a LOT. (How was yours?)

It was a lot of everything, I don’t know how else to describe it—emotions, events, reunions, deadlines. Sometimes, life just can be a lot to take in, can’t it? This past month, I was constantly in motion…routine was not a thing.

I went to a beautiful memorial service for my sweet grandfather who I will miss so much. I went to an anniversary BBQ/celebration in memory of my cousin’s husband who has somehow now been gone a year (how can that possibly be?), and that stirred up quite a few things from last summer.

I had special, special reunions with my family (LOVE), my best and oldest gfs, long-lost relatives, super-fun visiting guests and then, in the interim, sweet reunions with my Seattle people, which has felt extra-special when we’re all spinning around one another in crazy summer-schedule travel mode.

In June, I took so many trips down memory lane (a couple literally), I pored over ancient, dog-eared photos, I heard old stories for the first time, I got closer to understanding where I come from and who those people were and are—the long lineage of genetics and events that have fused together to collectively make me me. (The older I get, the more this piques my interest…the more tales I want to hear.)

I have been craving rootedness and schedules and full nights of sleep.
And now it is July, and I am home. Yes, I am still busy, and I still have looming deadlines and umpteen events penciled in, but I am so, so happy to be here. I love the PNW so much, and I especially love it in the summer.

Life is full, but life is good. I am in a grateful place these days (and so grateful to be there), constantly astonished by how this beautiful life continues to unfold.

Wishing you summer days full of browned skin and tangled pool/beach-hair and deep breaths that feel easy and free, the way it should always be.

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