between two red lines

“The valley spirit never dies; It is the woman, primal mother.

love what you love

“You do not have to be good. You do not have to walk on your knees

Controlled folly

I am terrified about writing again. Something animal within me shivers violently, back arched and hair bristling.

frequencies of wholeness

“People are deeply nourished by the process of creating wholeness.

Harmonizing the Body Electric

At Willow Monastic Academy, I lead chanting every day. My voice begins to break, cracking from the effort.

Before Completion, Stillness

My gaze often returns to the willow tree in the backyard of the Willow Monastic Academy.

The summer teachers

Following this loose, unfurling structure of a self(soul)-directed masters, I’ve given myself a “summer break” by tasting the sun-soaked madeleine of school-age youth, the familiar stretch and restless boredom of it.

a spider’s weaving

When she crawls under her bed, she finds a dusty sticker collection and an ancient well.

Fragments of Whole Time

“April is the cruellest month, breeding Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing

The Strange Soulfulness of Presence

Disclaimer: It was the worm moon over the weekend, and as per usual, I notice the lunar cycles tracking with the “too-muchness” of the intensity I’ve been holding – the subtlety of which seems to be diminished by words in ways that feel both profound and vaguely irritating.