Just This Life {11} ~ Relativity

relative I came face to face with a black bear recently.

His head was about three feet from my own, and his caramel eyes looked into my wide blue orbs, still trying to focally grasp his divinely perfect timing. That day.

I'm thankful for the screendoor glass that was between us. I had been whisking past right where he was standing less than two minutes before. Had I been walking out my studio door, I probably would have walked right into him.

One hour before meeting him, a friend wrote me to remind me what I already know, who I am, and to not forget to connect with my divine, regularly, to not let fear hold me back.

I had been questioning myself, my place, my work. This seemingly perpetual, inquisitive dance with Trust is part of the Creative Process, at least for me. My conviction is no less for it. Truly, it is greater.

Less than two hours before that friendly reminder, I had been re-filming some footage in the woods for the current RHYTHM Session... talking specifically about the potency of Bear Medicine... and Courage. I came out of that, buzzing, as I often am when I forget those questions and move into the action of my work in the world.

Then, just a few hours later, as I was running late for a council call, I ran into my house from the studio to grab my forgotten cup of tea, turned back around, opened the door, and there he was.

And he looked right in my eyes, as if to say, See, This is all so Real, and the whole, wild world has your back, so Trust the magic that flows through you, Braveheart.

Then he tossed his head and slowly circled our house, as if to whisper in closing... Carry On with This, this nature in your heart. Bless Bless Bless. Be Be Be.

We've never seen a black bear near this house in the 4 years we've lived here - it's a busy road.

Until last fall, I had gone almost 5 years in the south without even seeing one black bear - which is a bit odd, to tell you the truth. I've seen them several times this past year - but this one was different.

This one came to my door THAT day.

He stood right between me and my studio. He sniffed the chair where I'd been sitting just a little while before. His placement, his timing, his look, his movement around our home... the infusion instilled in me by that gaze... it was nothing shy of {ordinary} magic.

I keep thinking about his face. His divine wildness amongst the domestic stuff on our porch area.

I will remember.

tank drum

Much like bear can, I've been retreating inward a bit. Cozying up in smaller groups, but mostly centering in myself with my writing, painting and drumming (yes, I got a tank drum! - with it's glorious, immediate freedom from all thoughts when it resonates).

Finding my comfort in the sweet moments of living prayer.

I lean toward the intimacy of something that is awakening, alive, pulsing IN ME right now - just as green life takes over the lushness of the woods this time of year here in our mountains. The whole of nature could just pop with abundance of Life.

I feel this in me... I want to know it better, more fully, let it consume me for awhile, that I might move forward stronger for its wisdom.

I crave eyes who understand. Eyes like that bear's.

It is the promise of the changing season around me that I hold to most when I feel overwhelmed. In these cycles, I learn who I am, how I work, where there is food for the hunt, and time for rest, when it is time to move on instinct.

It seems I'm no longer aching to seek and find deeper community exactly, but actually diving into what that feels like, beginning right in my own skin and vision. Knowing it inside the vast open quiet of myself - like an invitation.

Sat chit ananda.


And so it is. So it is.

Within our truth, our spirit, we make the medicine we need most, the medicine our world needs. When we come together, we have the chance to share this medicine, consciously, with one another. To own it generously. To bless others with it - even if it takes awhile for it to work its magic, and even when we never know what magic it might have worked.

Because here's the thing - we don't even need to come together to know community, unity, belonging, purpose, compassion - though the physicality of it can certainly provide pathway to deepen the practice, the impact, the sense of connection.

But when you get right down to it, We are already {in THIS} together.

We are indiscernibly connected at a quantum level.

Today, and most days, I pray that we act accordingly, compassionately, like the Relatives we are.



update ::

*There is a global movement for prayer today, 12pm EDT. Learn more here. (Thanks to DFS for bringing this to my sleepless-in-Asheville attention.)