This edition of the slowdown comes to you straight from my 1:30 a.m. burst of creative energy. Some may say it was jet lag that woke me up early this morning (we just returned from the Philippines yesterday), but I know it was more than that. It was the moon. I woke up and was drawn to the moon like a magnet. I saw it shining through the window and I had to see it. I had to see it and feel it and honor it. There are so many words that were waiting to pour out of my head and my heart, and the moon infused me with the energy to write. I wish I had time to just sit here and write and write and write, but alas, I have to get up for work in the morning 🙂 So here are some of the thoughts coming through right now.
As my mind begins to process the magic of our trip, I feel deeply connected. Connected spiritually but also viscerally. In an almost primitive way. I want to dance in the moonlight and feel skin against my skin and dig my hands in the dirt. I want to touch the soil that sustains our plants and trees. I want to access the wisdom of my ancestors and honor the stars that grace our sky each night. I want to sing and chant and laugh until I cry. I want to connect and feel deeply. I want to heal my community, one heart at a time. I want to live louder and go deeper.
Something in the Air
The thing I miss the most about the Philippines is the hot, thick air. Air you can feel. Like Mother Earth herself is enveloping you, holding every cell in your body. Each drop of moisture in the air contains the exhales of all the beautiful, broken, healing humans of this earth. We are all connected through the air we breathe. Feeling that hot, sticky air is like one big embrace from all mankind, combined with the gentle wisdom of the earth. We are all one.
There’s something about that air. It’s easier to remember your connection to the earth when you can feel her surround you. There’s an electricity. Energy buzzing, held in the dense air. It’s easier to feel the communal energy. The pulse of the community flows through your veins. People eating outside together. Playing chess. Kids running around giggling. People live outside more.
In America, our big, comfortable homes have become our fortresses. We hide behind our walls rather than sharing our joy and our pain with our neighbors. We feel isolated. We forget that our pain is the world’s pain. Our fear is our neighbor’s fear. Our joys have been shared by everyone before us and everyone to come. Our deepest fears- that we’re different, we’re not good enough, we’re not loved- those feel softened when we see that everyone shares these same shadows.
Reconnecting to Our Community and Earth
There are so many beautiful souls creating community in San Diego. Gatherings like Hatched Collective or the Women’s Circles run by Laura J. Swan feed my soul and remind me that I’m never alone. I don’t know what or how, but I want to be a force that helps connect our community. That helps us reconnect to the earth. I feel there is beautiful work to be done there, and now is time to explore the ways that I can serve.
Poem of the Month
With That Moon Language
Everyone you see, you say to them,
Of course you do not do this out loud;
Someone would call the cops.
Still though, think about this,
This great pull in us to connect.
Why not become the one
Who lives with a full moon in each eye
That is always saying,
With that sweet moon
What every other eye in this world
Is dying to
Hafiz (translated by Daniel Ladinsky)