mystics

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Sojourning with Stillness: Portals

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the return is unsettling. yes, i was ready to come home after 61 days away. to step through one final portal…the doors at Portland International Airport. ready to sleep in my own bed after lying in 24 strange beds while i was away, 25 if you count the Reykjavik Airport row of three seats that was a temporary nest. ready to reconnect with those close to my heart.

i remember this from my last sojourn. in a few days the body adjusts to sun rhythms. recalls how to make the morning smoothie. grind the right amount of coffee. slip into the pool and glide back & forth. however, the emotional & spiritual self hesitates. integration takes time. sifting through memories for old routines and deciding which expand my life. which restrict…

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Gestation, Grief, and Gratitude

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The air has been crisp as a tree-fresh apple this week. My cheeks slipping into redness as my hands dive into my pockets and the morning moon lingers high in the west. The waning moon holding onto night even as the sun rises low in the late autumn sky. I want to hold onto night, too. Want to snuggle under covers and discard the list of “shoulds” that I composed. Want to wane into the new moon of me and hide in the shadow of winter dark. To take a small candle and explore my interior landscape one, small step at a time. Take midday naps. Engage with my dreams. Listen deep for what is next. Hit pause on my commitments. Does this resonate with you? This desire to go inward as days shorten.

Ocean Wisdom

I find a deep spiritual connection when I am at the beach. I walk along the coastline as the tide flows in and out. The waves seem to chase each other back and forth—some racing toward me, while others recede into the background. Since I’m not a tidal expert, without looking at the longer shoreline, I can’t tell right away if it is high or low tide, if the beach is being revealed or masked. When I am in the midst of those waves grabbing at my ankles all I can see is the present moment. Feel the water swirling around me-the warmth of water kissed by summer sun or the cold Pacific undercurrent.

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as we enter into these “thin place” days, i offer a vulnerable post. i hope you’ll take time to scoot over to Substack and read. also included are a few reflection questions so you can check-in with your heart, which i hope you are
my latest substack post (link in bio) is “being unsettled.” i touch on thresholds, emotions, the recent full moon, gratitude, wild introverts (now aren’t you curious?), lamenting, scattering seeds and more. here is a tiny taste&hell
My quarterly newsletter is posted reflecting on the change in seasons and curiosity. I also have a few book recommendations that I hope you pop over to check out. And of course Grief is mentioned. Link in bio. 🧡 I hope you are taking care of your
my Substack “following dandelion seeds” is one year old! my latest post, “noticing what i’m noticing” reflects on the shifting seasons, offers an invitation to you to “notice,” plus some reflection questions.
threading together the streams of thoughts flowing through my body these days felt like braiding water...💙🌀💙 my latest Substack reflects on meaning-making, memories, stories and, of course, my connection with nature is woven in too. oh, and demen