 It's time. So long outside ourselves, beside ourselves, and now we’re returning, a rare few all at once, most of us like layers unraveling day by day, year by year. We leave the maps behind, trust the instinct of our star-filled mammal hearts to know exactly where and with whom we belong, lean into the primal clarity of yes to this, or no to that, or no need yet to know. Sensing what is true, discerning what is not, releasing the habits, patterns and choices that have kept us estranged. We see through the temptation to live in threat, cultivate disciplined relaxation amidst the storm lest strung too tight we miss the simple quiet that guides the way. We are willing to be in the dark, ready to meet the grief and shame of generations, and coming to terms with the anger and despair. Running away has run its course, a thousand lifetimes attracted to distraction, terrified of the core, distant, walled, apart. Our intimate intelligence now inspires and ignites a thawing of all that froze, a remembering of all that fragmented. We are sanctuaries, each and every one, like broad trees we are planted in the moist earth silence at the center of the wheel Here we welcome each and every traveler. Undefended again. Unafraid again. Imagining movement that rises in stillness, awakening wildness, discovering we never left, home always, our source, our task, and our final rest. ~~Luke Anderson |