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Turning The Page – Next Chapter…

It has been quite awhile since I put words to this page, I have genuinely missed this dance. In some ways I have chosen to stay away to personally investigate how I embody the title of this blog, “Walking Naked Truth,” for I always aspire to live raw, open, vulnerable and authentically present.

Life to me has always felt like an epic novel, rich with layered life experiences that weave together in a vibrant tapestry. Times of gentle flow, excitement, change, love, loss, etc… Each page expressing the ebb and flow of a single hominid traversing her sojourn here upon the planet.

Turning the page in our life is not an end, it’s a bridge between our inner and outer expansion of becoming…

The past couple of years I have focused intently on what “following my bliss” (a Joseph Campbell quote) feels like. Playing with different life paths in my heart, soul and mind. Meditating and feeling into how each avenue might play out. Ironically, I found myself returning to the dreams of my early twenties. Thirty years ago I drew a plan for a sustainable community. I purchased books about cob, straw-bale and rammed earth homes, solar power, small scale farming, herbs, on and on…. Now of course I joyously add tiny homes to the mix, along with earthships, polycultural farming, and…

As I joyously reacquainted myself with these heart desires I connected the dots to more recent places and experiences that I was clinging to, such as –

  • Falling in love with San Juan Island, Washington (2011).
  • Following the agricultural community on the island.
  • Wanting to get back to organic farming and living in harmony with the land.
  • No commuting – living and working in the same place.
  • Engaging my body daily in physical activity – leave “all day” desk sitting behind.
  • Eating even more clean and connected to my food/nourishment.
  • Expanding my support of local and sustainable practices.
  • “Walking my talk” with the believe that anything is possible, dreams can come true and pursuing and living one’s passion is the dynamic tango of an engaged vibrant life.

It was time for my next chapter! At 55 years young, I get to embark on the second half of my life. My amazing fledglings have flown the nest, beginning to explore their own “heart desires”, thus I clip the tired edges off my wing feathers to soar forth into new horizons with vim and vigor.

At times in life we step through a gateway where an untrodden path rises to meet us…

COVID – 19 encouraged my leap of faith, giving me the reflective time to dig deep and put into action the next steps. I wrote a letter to my favorite farm on San Juan Island inquiring if I could come, work, learn, and live upon the bountiful earth. I was willing to do whatever it took, live in a tent, minimal belongings, little income, etc… I had figured out my financial bare bones to live and stay current on bills, while I carved out my new life.

Miraculously I received a positive response, the window opened for me to jump into my new reality. I took Tony Robbins words to heart, “burn the boats”, I sprung into this new chapter of life with complete commitment, I gave notice to my employer, I packed all my personal belongings, loaded my little car, spent as much time as I could with my kids and waved goodbye to Boise, Idaho after 27 years.

I find myself presently enjoying the beauty of a stunning polycultural farm, where I walk to work, engage daily in physical activity that honors the land and creatures. A small character in an ecosystem much grander than the self. Each day is a gift, learning, growing and experiencing so much. I pinch myself to make sure it is all real, feeling the gratitude bubble over.

The novel of my life is a constant work in process. What a grand adventure it is, each page and chapter unfolding and laying a foundation for what comes next. I love flipping through the pages to recall memories, to sit in gratitude for the challenging times that taught me so much, to laugh at sweet moments, and… It is always bittersweet to close a chapter, however, the paradoxical bridge between the last page and new page is a tenuous one rich in a myriad of emotions.

Where are you in the life journey? As you turn the page, is it time for a new chapter, expansion and more time in the present chapter??

It’s hard to put down a good book…

If you followed your bliss, where might you go, do, see, experience…?

Thank you so much for being a part of my life book – In heartfelt gratitude…

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As Above, So Below… As Within, So Without…

These eight simple words have always vibrated within my inner chamber, pulsating with truth and unspoken oneness. Encapsulating the existence of all that is. Human’s in their net of “free will” grabble with their separation from this revelation, for it shreds all contrived discrimination and quantification.

Those two pure little phrases have been knocking on my psyche for days. I hear them as I sleep, feel them pulsing in my veins, inhaling and exhaling their quiet truism. I hesitated coming to the page, to lay bare such raw exposing words, yet I know, those who feel them will read, those who thwart them will flee.

To separate is to limit, to define is to control, why would I choose either…?

They are not words to define, investigate or even understand. They are an active expression of that which is… A feeling, a knowing, an inexplainable realm of peace, infinite grace and all-embracing love.

I often play with their expansive grace when I gaze upon the never-ending sky. Day or night her impenetrable existence stirs a kaleidoscopic adventure, from electrifying calm to savage turbulence. She mirrors the human dynamic, love to rage, insult to compliment, care to abuse, perplexing even ourselves.

I explore further their muffled call as I sit or stand enveloped in nature or immersed in the cacophony of manmade civilization. Here again they reflect our chosen experience. I can respond to it all with peace, fear, love, hate, joy, or… What I choose will either connect me or disembody me from the vibrational oneness. I am at choice.

Religious and spiritual texts try to encapsulate, define, explain and “tell us how”, yet, such truth cannot be sheathed or unclothed. It exist in a purity for all to bask, an equality across all existence – “As above, So below, As within, So without.”

As a child I floated in this luscious space, like an iridescent bubble suspended in humanity’s bewilderment. Every now and then I would bump up against those who would try to pop my intimate relationship with such knowing. Today I bow in gushing gratitude, for it has remained, serenely vibrating throughout the years. As I peek in my rearview mirror I can see how often I was invited to veer off course, to forget, to choose “humanity” as the almighty. In humble human awe, I breathe into the eternalized vibration, grateful for its umbilical linkage.

Floating suspended with no beginning or ending we breathe as one…

“I do not seek, for I am…

I do not need, for it is…

I am that, I am…”

Until today, I knew not where the eight word phrase came from. As I typed the title, I thought, hmmm.., perhaps I should explore where that all encompassing phrase originated. A quick research reveals Hermes Trismegistus, however, humans toss and turn over centuries with its true authorship.

I come full circle to repeat that it matters not where it comes from, for it is not about understanding from our limited human perception, it is a sublime unifying truth. I can never explain it to you, however, I wish for all its undefinable experience, for such awareness could unify the world.

As above, so below…

As within, so without…

I do not seek, for I am…

I do not need, for it is…

I am that, I am…

I invite you to feel, not understand. Release the mind from its exertion to decipher, allow the heart to guide. Surrender with love into the free fall of that which is, for your soul remembers and knows…

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A Moon Bath…

It is five in the morning, I sit perched upon my bed, a writer’s roost to bask in the moon’s glow. I breathe quietly into the layered silence that emanates, filling the space with expansive questioning. My moon effulgence is sweet, yet, I know it is fleeting. Already sounds of traffic encroach upon the scene, foreboding the ticking time bomb we title reality.

I allow my gaze to partake of the sparkling moon dust that skitters across the hushed pond. All lights, except for the dimmed computer screen are extinguished. Maybe I can somehow prolong the radiance, delay the initiation of the emerging sun. Can I hold my breath, pull the chord that entangles the moon, beseech it to stay perched for my eye to see and my heart to feel?

I suppose she may wish to rest, to rejuvenate for her next rising. Taking her turn in the celestial dance, being careful to not overstay her welcome. I am charmed by her mysterious illumination, never does she fear the dark, instead she welcomes it like a cloak of glad tiding.

She accepts that often she is unnoticed, a mere sliver in the sky, bashful in her monthly cycle. Once upon a time we honored her, knowing that her waltz in the galaxy was as important as the suns tango and the rains boogie, all essential in the abundance promenade.

I sit now enveloped in the complete emptiness of her departure. Silently she slipped away, no bravado goodbye, just a quiet last wink to those who glanced her way. I hold that gesture as I rise like the sun into the manmade chaos. It’s my glowing reminder in the anarchy of human civilization that all is impermanent, fleeting, a mere glint in infinite darkness.

A moon bath caressed me into this day. I lathered and washed infusing my skin with her radiant energy. Armoring myself against the onslaught of human preoccupation, the ignorant forgetfulness that we are an intrinsic part of the whole.

Thank you moon glow, your touch has lifted me. I shall not forsake your gift, nor ignore your virtues.

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My Second Half…

At the young age of fifty-five, I find myself joyously standing in the center of that which has been and that which is preparing to blossom. An eloquent juxtaposition that feels like a merry-go-round spinning with exquisite suspended scenes.

In addition to my age gracing me with the realization that a lot of life has been lived, my children now soar off into their own adventures, pushing me out of the nest. As the truth becomes absorbed cellularly I find a gleefulness that encapsulates the carefree wild child I was and the passionate wise woman I am. Uniting and marrying the two for prophetic adventuring. A smile spreads, curiosity ignites, rhapsodic imagination takes flight.

In My Second Half…

I know I am worthy and divinely perfect as I am…

I unabashedly live, love, and explore…

I witness the beauty in the mirror, celebrating the gifts of time…

I gleefully embrace my enough-ness, freeing myself of unsolicited opinions…

I canter at full speed into the arena of my passionate dreams…

I leap with complete faith, burying with fervor the crib of regret…

I acknowledge with great gaiety that I am a success and always have been…

I sever the twine issued by judges, critics and fearful fanatics…

I am free to BE me, gyrating with grace into the infinite expansion of self…

I pledge to live engorged at the table of life…

In my second half, I welcome the rhapsody Carpe Diem…

Fawn Caveney

Yes, everyday is a fresh stretched canvas. A posed pirouette. A barren page. A ballad awaiting melody. Oh what delighted mirth awaits in My Second Half…

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Writing is my home…

As I joyously inhale the rich scents of Spring, I smile at the magic of the pond surface, it invites me to become mesmerized by its soft masquerade. Pretending to be the cerulean blue sky, budding trees and patchwork clouds, until a duck exposes its truth.

What we see may not be that which we believe…

I sit in contemplation, why do I write? I explore this topic with sincerity, for I am clear, I do not wish to be an inbox pest, or an in your face “look at me” bombardment in this technological age. Writing has been my calm in life’s storms. Words whisper on the wind, thunder in my dreams, offer safe harbor for my truths and ignite my desires. Writing is my home.

It occurred to me yesterday that there is a poignant difference between words that are meant to be READ and words that are written for one to FEEL. I put my words to page for the latter, hoping they may touch a part of you that knows and remembers. Like a firefly in a dark room, my writing arrives to kindle your heart, mirror your magnificence, and celebrate your existence. My words wish to be your friend, whether they resonate or not, it does not matter, they arrive free of expectation or judgment.

Words beckon me, they arrive in dreams, promenade on the wind, sparkle in sun rays and wink with the moon. As far back as my small human brain can go, they have called, beseeching me to hear, to feel, to know their exquisite texture, tone and truth.

A composer hears music, an artists woos colors, a singer ignites sound, a dancer feels cadence, a writer breathes words. I write because I must, whether or not anyone reads my sentences matters not to my persistent muse… As a willow will bend in the wind, the colloquy shall flow from within, arriving on any inviting surface.

“I do not write to convince you, I write to invite you…

I do not write to ignite your approval, I write to remind you of your magnificence…

I do not write to tell you what to do, I write to celebrate you

I do not write to tell you something is wrong, I write to empower you to choose yourself…

I do not write to give you 7 Steps to a better life, I write to inform you that you are already enough…

I do not write to critique your life, I write to reflect back your perfection…

I do not write to magnify your discontent, I write so you may embrace your worthiness…

I do not write for you to read the words, I write in hopes that you may feel the words…

I do not write to get your attention, I write because I must, it is who I am…”

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The Whisper…

During this time of “stay at home” it has been easier for me to find that sweet spot, the whisper tucked between the multiple layers of silence. It is a vibratory space, one that is texturally exquisite and infinite once you empower its presence. Most people I meet are unaware of its existence. Many are afraid to allow it to surface, for in doing so, they would be called to enjoy their own company. Releasing all busy-ness. Freeing oneself of the obligatory do. Gracing the moment with just being.

The resonating whisper that is so eloquently wrapped amidst the divine layers of silence is the supreme land of freedom. It lifts one out of human suffering, suspending all time and place. A space of paramount intimacy where the in and out breath merge with grace. Quieting the pulsating ebb and flow of blood. Soothing the heartbeat to a gentle murmur. Inviting the skin to relax and float upon the coagulated mass beneath its protective sheath. All that separates evaporates. Leaving in its wake the galactic interconnection of all that is…

One can witness the ethereal whisper, it is –

  • the pause before a new born takes its first breath…
  • a blossom thrusting the first petal forth…
  • a soft crack exposing a hatchling…
  • the heavy dark clouds at the edge of releasing the first raindrop…
  • the buoyant zone crossed by the mind embracing sleep…
  • a mother quietly viewing her child…
  • the moment a leaf touches the water…

The transcendent whisper perpetually summons, alluring one to tiptoe into the omnipotent realm, an invitation to vibrationally dance upon the edge of contrived human existence and the sempiternal expansion of all that is.

What might we discover about ourselves and the cosmos we float within if we welcome the layers of silence, beseeching the centriole whisper to swaddle us in its infinite glory? Could we potentially navigate our human existence with a newfound harmony? Rising in vibrational crescendo to a state of tranquility?

I invite you today to find the whisper. Allow yourself to float within the unparalleled effervescent freedom of the whisper.

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Are We More Advanced???…

It was clammy and cool, causing goosebumps to rise. The walls were a blend of rocks, dirt and moisture. The floor had hardened over time, an uninviting place to sit. My “little grandpa,” who was actually my great grandpa, had to duck to get down in there with me, but, he was always willing to humor me for a while. It was one of my favorite places on the farm, for it was home to the squishy little salamanders I enjoyed befriending. Early summer was the best time to be in there, for it was refreshing and the root vegetables from the last harvest were gone. The tiny little dark root cellar was just one of the wonders that remains tucked in my childhood memory bank.

My little grandpa’s farm.
To lose our connection with the land we live upon is to shut off our own breathing…

As a toddler I frolicked around my great grandpa’s farm. I called him my “little grandpa”, for his son, who was much taller and broader, got nick-named “big grandpa”. In my little mind the names made total sense and became the endeared titles for them as my siblings arrived one by one.

I absolutely loved my little grandpa’s farm. It sat in a small community in southern Michigan. A miniature piece of land that felt gigantic to my young adventurous spirit. It was full of wonders and places to explore. Thankfully my little grandpa humored my tagging along, even though it was hard for my stubby legs to keep up.

Like the seeds my great grandma would plant every spring in the garden, the farm memory rooted itself in me. I can still feel the gentle flow of life there, the seasons and the wonders of the land in its gracious life giving abundance.

Dear ole Rastis was my easy-going four legged best friend. He was a striking mix of black and white soft fur and just the right height for me to use as a balancing tool. Best of all he let me take care of him, kindly receiving my offered meal of rocks. It was a good thing I did not know until years later, that when I was not looking he would spit them out.

The other day as I reviewed the COVID-19 numbers around the world, it struck me again, how the hotbeds for the virus seem to be the densely populated areas. This led me to thinking about the human’s movement from living on the land, to occupying high rises. The shift from an agricultural species to an industrialized machine. As the years have flown by, we become even more disconnected from our roots with the land. For me, this recent world situation poignantly shares the ripple effect of our choices in so many ways.

The small farmer that has survived the onslaught of monster mono-crop farming, can still go out his/her door today to co-create an existence with the land. If necessary, they can generate a way to survive and get by during challenging times. Whereas, the individual sitting on the 39th floor of a high rise is limited with their ability to provide for themselves or their family. They are dependent upon the interwoven “advanced” lifestyle we have established over time.

Business as usual is non-existent as I type these words. We are being offered a magnified view of the infrastructure we have chosen to co-create. The closing of daily business as we know it has created a tsunami effect on the unemployment lines. What will the long term impacts be? How have our priorities and choices impacted us and the future?

I don’t know about you, but, thoughts of the small farm life prick my curiosity. The ability to wisely provide for my family, share bounty with others and create a community that ebbs and flows with the land, seems very inviting. A few years ago, I enjoyed the opportunity to work on a local organic farm, it was a sweet time that re-ignited my childhood memories. I never slept better than during that time, my body physically tired, my spirit full with a solid sense of important accomplishment. Ironically, I could not feed my family on the income I received, thus, I found myself back in the city working behind a desk. Personally, I find this backwards, for providing healthy nourishing food seems to be one of the most important life giving professions that exist.

Change does not have to be about sacrifice, it can be about ingenuity and a willingness to keep trying…

Many years ago I discovered a book that really stirred my thoughts about sustainable living – “Solviva – How To Grow $500,000 On One Acre & Peace On Earth,” by Anna Edey. Here was a single woman, like myself, going for it, trusting in herself and the land. She presented some interesting images for a “livable future” that really piqued my imagination (see above image), what if, we actually became that smart. Recently, I found myself exploring another sustainable way of living, Earthships. What if we actually started to think about our quality of life and how to create a better future for our children and the generations to come after that. We are creative, perseverant, compassionate, resilient beings when we decide that’s how we want to be… Like Edison, Einstein, the Wright Brothers, and any one else who had an idea, anything is possible if we believe, keep trying, learn from our mistakes and stay open to new ideas. After all, you are reading this on a tool that certainly did not exist when I was young.

  • I continue to wonder will we use this COVID-19 world experience to make changes that honor our inter-relationship with the land?
  • Or pretend nothing happened?
  • Will we wish to respect and cultivate a new way of being upon the planet?
  • Or ignore all the valuable insights we have gained?

What if, we did not “return to normal,” instead we decide to co-create a “fresh new start.” A way of living upon this planet which sets it up to thrive for generations to come…

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Wait or BE???…

During this unique time in our world I hear and read everywhere the desire to return to normal. It’s as though people are holding their breath because the air presently available is foul and encroaching on life as we know it.

As I lay in bed last night, watching the bright moon glow, I found myself contemplating,

  • Why are we waiting?
  • Why do we want to return to what was?
  • What if there is actually a new world that awaits us with positive changes?
  • What if this is a rare opportunity not a curse?

I do experience that people enjoy a routine. They like familiar and predictable. I am guilty of liking some simple routines myself, such as journaling every morning, the way I have started my day for over thirty years. I also relish my warm cup of Jasmine Green tea that accompanies my pen and paper in the quiet dawning. I love walking in the grace and splendor of the natural world, to feel my body flow with the rhythm of nature’s song. Yes, I have my daily pleasures that make my heart smile…

I can honestly say though, that I often query with my heart, soul and mind – “Does this daily habit serve me? Is it helping me to co-create a more joyful expansive life?” If that search uncovers that I am doing it for others, because I “should” (yuck), or to meet some outside expectation that I do not care about, then I stop and let it go. This is a constant dance of reflective exploring, an aspect of life that morphs as I grow.

As I journaled this morning, it struck me like a lightning bolt – “What if it is not about WAITING! Instead, it is a glorious chance to learn how to BE. Maybe for the first time in your life you get to just BE. Feeling into the rich expansive layers of who you are. Taking this time to explore the nooks and crannies of your intimate heart, soul, and quieted mind.

We can only hear our personal song, when we listen…

Throughout my life journey most of the people I meet do not want to sit in their own quiet. They do not want to be still, to hear the silence, feel their own heartbeat. When I broach the subject of just BEing, I am jolted by the fear and discomfort that presents itself. This saddens me, for only in the quiet space can the inner self have a chance to bubble up, the unexplored dreams surface and the hidden desires show up in technicolor.

Yesterday on my walk, I sat by the river watching freshly released seed pods float by, like watching the flames of a campfire, I was transfixed by their tango upon the water. A pair of osprey serenaded, dancing upon the wind currents of a cloudless azure sky. To complete the perfect setting, vivid green willow buds burst upon the exquisite scene. I welcomed the serenity, breathing it in with momentous gratitude. I allowed myself to float in the sweet reverie, grateful to Just BE…

Today I invite you to BE, allow yourself the grace to feel, breathe deep, listen to your inner being, ponder the thoughts that drift up out of the quiet internal space.

Of course as we know, it is always your choice. You can WAIT, hoping for change, expanding the sensation of frustration and worry OR you can open up to feel into the NOW moment, content to Just BE.

What if this time is not about Waiting, instead it is an offer to BE???…

I joyously announce that today I OPEN and SHARE the fiction writing side of me :-). Beware, it is an ongoing tale… Click to join me – “The Inner Being Quest, Your Personal Journey Home…”

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Precipice of Time…

Her eyes sparkle with joyful trust, her feet skip with abandoned freedom, her voice rises with no apology and her hands reach for the dust that dances with her in the glittering sunlight. She is free and wild an ecstatic expression of the bliss which always is…

Her face was lined from years of living. Her eyes danced, bursting with memories etched like fireworks on a dark night. Her smile beckoned one to sit and listen. Her legs no longer danced, they lay bent and disfigured on the bed with raw open bed sores seeping at her hip joints. Her vibrant spirit encircled you the moment you stepped into her space, there was no victim in this room, no woe is me, instead one was greeted with dynamic passion, simple happiness, and a peacefulness that gently kissed you on the cheek. 

Who are the “her’s” I speak of? The first is me, dancing in my childhood living room, chasing the sun dust I stirred up with my exuberant joy. The second “her” is a divine woman I was blessed to care for in a nursing home years ago. Her aliveness, grace, peace, and love still dance in my memory. She and others I cared for knew a truth, as did the child in me. 

What did they know?

  • They knew that happiness, love, peace and contentment always exist.
  • They knew that it did not exist in things outside themselves.
  • They knew that it was accessible in all moments.
  • They knew that no one could give it to them, yet they lovingly shared it.
  • They knew it was a choice.

The years and space between innocent curious childhood and the wisdom of one’s latter years is full of “shoulds”, “comparisons”, “judgments”, and the measuring of the self against a society often ruled through fear and distrust. I do not have to sit very long in a cafe before I can hear someone criticizing themselves or attacking someone else. Stories swirl around like the sound of the espresso machine, surging with blame, shame, hurt, victimhood and discontent. It breeds like the flies on the patio tables, snatching up every scrappy morsel to add fuel to why their life is so miserable. 

Why do humans choose this?

A question I have pondered since I was five years old.

  • Why do we let go of our passionate desires to instead choose to fly someone else’s kite?
  • Why do we slam the door on the pure potential of joy?
  • Why do we kick happiness to the curb, to welcome and invite stressful frustration?
  • Why do we say “have to” instead of “get to”?
  • Why do we choose going through our days and moments on auto-pilot, waiting for someone or something else to make us better?
  • Do we prefer to wait, to lie on our deathbed watching the autobiographical movie of regret?
  • Why do we look in the mirror with such self contempt, as young children we loved our reflection?

I ask all of this with curiosity and a desire to understand.

In my sophomore year of college I was blessed to work at an international daycare. Here I witnessed children from all over the world. They danced, played, laughed and cried, living their moments very presently. They saw the world as a frontier to be explored. I sensed that the older children were on the fringe of losing this curious wonderment for life. In their play I observed them mimicking adults, their eyes would change, their jaw would set tightly, their voices would take on a serious tone. The joy, spontaneity, compassion and kindness evaporated, leaving behind a robotic body, controlled by the “taught” mind. 

Three years after working in a daycare, I found myself working in a nursing home. Here I discovered the grace and vengeance of aging. I was gifted to share time with souls who lived a full passionate life and others who were embittered with regret. The extreme chasm between the two slapped me stingingly as I would leave one room to enter another. My heart and soul ached for those fighting their own shadow. They carried their anger and sadness like a suitcase loaded with boulders, burdening their final days. These souls expressed through pinches, punches, and verbal abuse while you assisted them to the toilet, shower or dining hall. Off the clock, I cherished the moments I got to sit and listen to the stories from those celebrating life. Stories of falling in love, having children, riding in a car for the first time and rising above struggle. Reflections of the gentle flow of seasons, years, experiences and the pure grace of a life lived fully. 

Precipice of time…

In my forties I found myself teaching language arts to junior high students. Here I witnessed the cross over in technicolor poignancy. A few young people desperately clung to their innocent pure belief that anything is possible, that one could reach for their dreams with unbridled passion. The majority of the students had given up, they did not dream, instead they chased visions of their future painted on the wall by parents and society. They swallowed hard the doses of expectations fed to them with the famous mantra, “When I have lots of money I will be happy, when I get my degree I will be happy, when I buy a house I will be happy, when I marry I will be happy, WHEN I… I will then be HAPPY”

Ironically the joke is on us, for much of life is lived between the wild child and the wise elder. Thus I am forever grateful for the life altering gift of witnessing snapshots of age through my diverse professional life. They have  graced me with an awareness and microscopic view that life is really just a brief sojourn. A brief interlude to experience as I choose. 

Today I watch the sun dust with the pure delight of my four year old wonderment, I dance with unlimited joy, for I am not young, nor old, I am in between, kissing each with gratitude for their wisdom. 

Today I invite you to join me, breathe deeply into the child you once were before life manipulated you. 

Today I encourage you to take back the string to your own kite, feel it dance freely upon the wind. 

I wrote this piece originally over a year ago, today it whispered at me, beckoning me to share in this time of change upon our planet. We all sit unexpectedly in a space of suspended uncertainty. As we float between what was and what is becoming, we are being graced with a crystal ball that plays scenes from childhood, while positioning the paint brush towards a canvas of our elder years. Posed on a precipice, can you hear the whispers of grace and freedom? Or do you cling to the chaos of fear?

The wise gentle elders I was blessed to care for no longer inhabit this plane, yet the way they embraced their journey is written in permanent marker on my heart, soul, and mind. I shall not lie on the bed sores of life embittered and shriveled, I shall dance vibrantly in the sparkling company of dust particles…

If you ache for some soothing quiet, please enjoy some of my recorded guided meditations at – “Dawn with Fawn” on YouTube channel or read more at The Beingness Project.

In the quiet stillness lies the grace for more….
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Aftershocks of Uncertainty…

Guess What?… Uncertainty struck! It showed up with earth shaking realism!

And it continues… Idaho has experienced 37 aftershocks following the 6.5 magnitude that rattled everything last evening. According to the National Weather Service it was the second largest earthquake in the world for March 2020.

One would say, be careful what you say, type, or think, for you might get a real life example.

When I look in my review mirror, it is dotted with such moments. All in their own “glory” and unexpectedness. When I sit with those life experiences, really feeling into them and exploring their “aftershocks”, I am humbled, for they all lead to what comes next. More powerfully they have sculpted who I am today. Chiseling out the aspects of myself that did not serve or fit my new expansion.

This time in our world with COVID – 19 is another such opportunity. It is having many aftershocks for us to see and personally know, each and everyone of us is being hit by its quake in some form.

What will we choose to do with the experience?

  • Will you go back to life as it was?
  • Will you start out being more thoughtful and reflective in your daily choices, only to shift back to your norm?
  • Will your children, family, friends have the same memories as you?
  • During your “stay at home” time did you “numb out”, distract yourself, or embark on a new “self-love” behavior and habit?
  • Did you take this opportunity to make changes?
  • Did you reach out and connect with others?
  • Will you go back to the job you hate or did you work on your resume, determined to create change?
  • Did you learn to appreciate what you have or continue to take it for granted?
  • And….

I think the thing that always baffles me is why do we “need a wake up call” to create change? Why do people not take action steps daily towards their dreams?

This time has gifted me with the opportunity to reflect more deeply. I can honestly say that I have never truly given up, despite unexpected derailments and intense uncertain times, I have never fully given up. I still have three dreams that intertwine to co-create the life I intend to live.

They are in process, they are becoming, they are a part of who I am….

I am at choice to enjoy the journey along the way or get frustrated because it has not fully happened yet. Which sounds more fun to you? Personally I prefer the first, for I do respect, honor and know that life is absolutely splattered with Uncertainty! So, I choose to aim my rudder towards my desired destination, celebrating that there will be moments when it is a wild ride (here are a couple of those opportunities). I hang on with a sense of adventure, vulnerable openness and joy for the present moment.

What aftershocks will this time offer you?

  • Will you be a passive apathetic bystander?
  • Will you take action towards your dreams?
  • Will you reach out?
  • Will you embark on a new journey?
  • Will you cradle with gratitude the blessings in your life?
  • Will you empathetically honor and assist those most intimately struck by this virus?
  • ???

I have grown to understand that some of the most profound changes in life happen over time with small simple daily action. We do not have to have an earthquake, tsunami, or pandemic to create change in our life, we just have to Choose to step, “putting one foot in front of the other…”

The song says it all…

On that note, I wish you well on this glorious day, that shall never be again...