Sailing semantic seas can so easily leave us adrift somewhere behind our forehead, riding imitation waves, dreaming that we are not dreaming, unless we let ourselves be transported across the gap between language and what language represents.
This, of course, asks much of us. Sometimes what we are reading invites us to thus leap, perhaps even accompanying us in our crossing, holding us without holding us back. Through the words and between the lines, we may at such times feel the kinship, the steps, the pulse and spirit of the author, whose differences from us only make more vividly compelling the similarities.
In our passage to the essential — our journey into what we never really left but only dreamt we did — we eventually begin to recognize ourselves in and through each other, knowing ourselves to be more than we can imagine, grateful for, among other things, the word-boats that helped carry us out on the open sea and into its depths.
My writings are held together by a stubborn passion for a deeper life, a life devoted to deep healing, integration, and full-blooded awakening, a life in which everything — everything — is permitted to awaken us.
My writings are also about becoming more intimate with all that we are — dark and light, high and low, shallow and deep, dying and undying. Such intimacy, such a deeply embodied knowing of ourselves, is at at the very heart of what we truly need, bringing us into the intrinsic wisdom, compassion, humor, and joy of Being.
Some of my writings sing, some bleed, some rant, some attempt to say what is probably better left unsaid, but all are invitations, however roughly wrapped, to more fully enter our heartland, whether done like an eagle riding a wave of everlasting morning or on our hands and knees.
Greetings to the you who has already arrived, and greetings to the you who is still arriving. Both are equally welcome.