Small meditation retreats - more information coming soon. Meanwhile consider exploring my wild and sweet getaway: Airbnb link for The Wake Up Cabin (TWUC) (follow prompt to Open Site in New Window)          

The Cave of My Heart

Like a teensy tiny sore spot that is 
somehow
exactly the same as our entirety

I think I know this, 
I think I know that
and I do not.
I just know the dream story
that is mostly both fed and 
accepted.
For the truer things bring with it words
like “crazy” and “out-there”
and I am wired to shiver in my boots, so mostly, 
I do.

Yet…. as I learn to know truly….
the cave of the heart expands
its inviting-ness
which is beyond pleasure or pain 
or those words, so loaded, like
“suffering”
such patterns are just toys 
on the sandy beach of impermanence.

I am like a starving person 
and concepts my food,
I binge until a numb kind 
of meaninglessness settles over and 
in and around and as 
my existence.
An implosion of angst
that eventually, through the mysteries of 
love, tears, and addictions, becomes the black hole
that is the cave of my heart.

It is said knowing emptiness
is like falling 
and yes it is.
And the more one knows it truly
the less the sense of any direction, 
the less there’s anything to achieve.
As receiving becomes like a fountain
or a fire. Consuming, laying bare, purifying, 
the wildness of our utter simplicities
the simplicity of our innate wildness.

All acting becomes true magic.

Oh cave, both hidden 
and impossibly exposed
thank you, 
thank you.  
                                                                       HLN 1.20.21