pages from my doodle diary...

do birds compare like women do? on the length of legs, the colour of feathers?
the thought struck me as rather amusing, so out flooded the drawing of comparing birds.



i still remember the day when i climbed to that rock in front of those woman and called my name for all the valley to hear.
the echo is still heard.


amazing photography:
:: a cameracar across australia
:: burning man comic book
:: why do you do what you do

tender, shaky kind of place

joshy and alyssa on jack

"Compassionate action starts with seeing yourself when you start to make yourself right and when you start to make yourself wrong. At that point you could just contemplate the fact that there is a larger alternative to either of those, a more tender, shaky kind of place where you could live."
~ Pema Chodron


So I wonder in these days. Do I build, or do I pick away at the foundations?
Do I build on my chimney stack or focus on clearing out the white ants in my spirit?
All these words only hint at larger movements, analogies that do little to shed light on the experiencing of the moment.
How do I say it clearer?
My hands move in three directions at the books I want to read. My belly quakes at new discoveries.

I wonder and yet I know, all at once.
I wonder how I move from here, and yet I know that time, gentle time, will give me all the gifts and lessons I need.

I picked up another person's phone in the office today, it was ringing out unanswered,
and my friend Deb was on the end of the line. So we talked happily, and she laughed knowingly at my words, and she said at the end:
just be gentle my friend.

So I will be. I am. Just gentleness.
Severity isn't needed here. I don't need to be right, I don't need to be wrong.
Just a fullness in being where I am in the moment.
a more tender, shaky kind of place to live.

what do you know?

in honour of nanowrimo (yes, i know it's not until november - but the spirit of writing is here) i want to try and write something everyday. i'm not sure what about. just write, let it out there, let it be.

words swim around in my head this evening. wisdom.
transformation... decisions... letting it be... the inner child.
these words i do not write lightly. i write these with a greater understanding, a deeper comprehension of these words. a comprehension that will only deepen in time. i consider the pain i find in the hidden, small parts of me. parts that are so ready to leap to the surface. i wonder if i will heal all the pain, if i have the courage to face it, the tools to master it.

i am reminded of a post by andrea scher - "Not your fear, but what do you know?"

i know that in the fullness of time... it will heal. i will face it. i will learn those tools. slowly, slowly. step by gentle step. moment by moment.

i ponder at times the thought of being a spiritual slob - of being unconscious and oblivious with no internal work. but it's not an option.

this conscious journeying heightens the experience of pain, but it also deepens the joy and love. even as i quake at the thought, i choose it. i step into the unknown as fully as i can.

Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one's courage.
~ Anais Nin

as i write this, the beautiful face of lizz wright sings. her turquoise earrings and open face inspires me.