Like a drumbeat in my heart, my mind, I get that this isn't a shutting down, but a hiatus.
I've no idea where this all goes next. A new name? A new site? No clue. But I do know that I love You, the collective you that pulses through this blog, and the individual you that shares bits of your own living through comments and emails. And I know that I must write. The words must flow.
Like Jed McKenna says in his new book Spiritual Warfare, if you don't hear a Yes, it's a No. And because I'm not hearing a Yes to write more posts, I'll just let the blog ground go fallow til I know what to plant next.
And in the meantime, Life is good, so very very sweet. And I want to say to you: follow the energy, don't try to plan too much, just follow the energy. Never in a million years would I have chosen the past four years for myself, and yet by taking the paths open to me, and letting go of the paths that closed, I walked into a living so wonderful that I'd never even imagined it could be possible.
When I think of that girl-woman I was four years ago, my heart shatters in gratitude that she just kept going, that she didn't stop, that she had the courage to let her own life and heart break so completely that there could be room for more . . . more life . . . more love.
I still miss Grandma Booty. And I miss the life I lived four years ago: the heart-soul best friend, the beloved fierce-gorgeous teacher, the spirit-dreamer lovely-luscious man, that resonant purple and green living-philodendron-ceilinged apartment, my persona of vibrant-wide-open healer. But I no longer mourn them. They all live within me, infusing my energy with their Themness, still, until the day I shed this mortal skin, or maybe even beyond. Because I broke my heart into infinite shards, there is now room for All Of My Living, in the spaces between cells, in the blank spaces between frames, in the place of stillness where the exhale meets the inhale.
Isn't that funny? We think that the goal is to protect our heart, to keep it warm and safe. But it isn't. The whole point of it all is to allow it to break so completely that the sun at its core can shine more brightly between the fissures wrought by a life fully lived.
And who knows? Maybe we can torch that barnacled, battered human heart to the ground, so that the only thing left is the sun . . .