No time like the present.
Sitting in simple presence with 95 others -- in the same pace of growing up, with the same concerns shaking off unhappy programming, the same undirected fervor that now is the time for something -- was a steady positioning of self-conscious sight in the lens of living today. Meeting in the woods with 560 others -- of four generations, with the same
Today I'm back from the women's herb conference, and I'm trying to polish this spark. This past month has been about settling and taking stock, a lot of internal work -- a lot of the time I doubt this "just thinking" (daydreaming, planning, remembering, hoping, fearing, wanting, avoiding, judging, justifying, narrating, actually seeing it all happen in my mind) and I have to call up patience to sit with it, still, and let this unravelling thing soften me up. Like a roast in Brother's crockpot. The meditation retreat was one thing, familiar, skill-building for its own sake. But a weekend with these women!, these herbs, this great yawning healing wellspring of magic; this is another continuum altogether. The weekend storming, in hurricane tail and drumming and honest voices, familiar in my marrow but like having my old face wiped away with snakeskin. A tipping point, I can feel something churning up in the silt of my soul, some molten thing sliding up behind me, some ladder urging me outward, upward, forward. And I'm ready to go.
No time like the present.
My dear, that thing you love, that you have always loved since you opened your eyes, that your body pulls to with the honest magnetics of trust; do that thing. Once. Today. Now.
Again.
