“Why do I always wait till the end of the day to write these?” I was just asking myself in the shower. So I got out and looked up the etymology of procrastination ~ why? Because I looooove words and the meaning at their depths always teaches me something. sometimes I make up the meaning but sometimes, and today is one of those days, sometimes, what the dictionary says, makes me smile.
 
“Belonging to tomorrow.” Could that be any more NOT in the moment? I don’t have more words about it. I’m trying. They’re just not coming. So I’ll leave it at that.
 
Let’s belong to today.  

(One of) my therapists (it takes a village, don’t judge) uses the phrase “up until now’’ when referring to life and all its mysteries. When I complain about things, she kindly offers, ‘’up until now they have been…’’ and I have to smile now, even as I write this.
 
With those few words, there is so much roooooom. I love this perspective and up until now, have been pretty crappy at it.
 
I’m a fixed sign. Fixed on the ways I see things. Fixed in the ways I do things. Which can be very grounding and very constricting too. Cage like.
 
This evening I experienced a shift after spending time with new friends. Re-learning how I can’t really know people till I open up my heart to them. And that I never know how it’s going to go. Thankfully, this night, I am resting with a lighter heart and a calm mind.
 
Naturally, this leads me to wonder on the etymology of the word vulnerability… Turns out it stems from the Latin vulnerabilis – to wound. Wow. Really? Yes, to wound.
 
How immensely beautiful, how insanely crazy, how foolishly simple! To be vulnerable makes us open to wounding. Man! Doesn’t that make you want to love people more? Doesn’t that make you love you more? It does me. I literally just felt a shift in my heart. In making myself vulnerable, I open myself to wounding. I also open myself to loving.
 
And so I choose love. 

​Every night the crows fly toward the sunset. Every morning they fly toward the sunrise. I live on a hill. And even though I’ve been here for several months, I haven’t watched them, till tonight. I sat on our stone balcony and it’s crazy how they fly toward the sun as it sets. Insanely beautiful.
 
It’s been a challenging week. I’m unearthing core hurts that are reoccurring. I take that to mean a lesson I am learning and haven’t quite gotten.  I am feverish and feel like I’m ‘’coming down with something.’’ I use the quotes because as soon as I thought it, I wondered what it is that is ‘’coming down’’ through me. Hmmm.
 
Passion.
 
It’s passion. I’m turning my gaze toward my passions to live from them. And they are rattling the cages of my insides. As the season turns from Leo (my sun sign) to Virgo (my rising) – I am rising. But it’s scary and that’s the truth. It’s scary to feel alone in these trials, wanting someone to bear my burdens. I’m understanding deeply the truth of how much the people we surround ourselves with, impact us. I want to be one of the people that others surround themselves with because I elevate them. Recently, the elevation I’ve encountered has been the result of loss of heart. Loss of heart around people I’d grown to count on. So weird. We really can’t count on anyone but we’re wired to love and care for one another ~ to have community and connection at our core. So, what’s the balance? And what’s the way?
 
The way IS the way. I’m keeping moving. My eyes open to gathering my tribe, my people, my loves ~ so we can love this life right up <3
 
I’m here.
 
Where are you?
 
Let’s be like the crows and follow the Sun. 

​Letting go of understanding is one of the hardest things for me. I want to ‘’get’’ why people do things. But sometimes I just don’t. Why? See, that’s just me wanting to know. There is something about the pacing of people and myself that I’m learning at the moment. Something about patience. Tattooed on my arm is a prayer of St Theresa of Avila ~ “Let nothing disturb you, patience concurs all.” As an Aries moon I would argue that patience doesn’t concur all, but that would only validate my Aries moon…
 
Anyway, what I’ve been learning through living is to go where the river is flowing. I feel sad writing that because it means leaving some that have meant and do mean a lot to me, and moving on. The truth is, though, that my river is flowing and there’s a boatload of beauty moving with me. I’m learning that to surround myself with ones that move in that river with me, is what strengthens & enlivens me. And in truth, we just don’t know who’ll turn up in that river as we float on down. We just never know. Open doors and open hearts is where I live tonight. 

A few years ago a dear friend and I were talking. I was contemplating some years with deep remorse and grief. She said ‘’I trust life, Mari, don’t you?’’ And I had to think about it. I didn’t. At that time, I felt life had failed me. I’d shown up with all the fervor, life force, and honesty I could muster, and felt like I got fucked.
 
So I made myself a sign, “I TRUST LIFE.’’ It was pretty, painted, colorful. It hung in a prominent place in my home so that I’d see it and be reminded all the time.
 
Since then I moved and promptly hung it up; in my bedroom this time. A few days ago it started annoying me. I blew it off at first, but this morning I woke up and I wanted that sign down now. As I took it down I realized why – when I didn’t trust life I needed to see it spelled out for me. Now, I’m different. The evidence that I trust life is all around me. I don’t need a sign. I am the sign. 

I had a vaginal exam today. Full on speculum, probe, and all. Ain’t that the greatest, ladies?! Anyway, as it were, I had two male doctors and a steel-eyed medical assistant (woman) as my ‘’support.’’ My main doc, in his late 60’s, told me, “we only have plastic speculums, so it won’t be too cold but it can be extra pinchy.” “Hmm,” I wondered, “have YOU ever had a speculum exam?” Instead I chuckled, ‘’I’m very familiar with speculums, thank you very much!’’ I laughed alone.
 
Now the drape – laying on my back I wondered, “why bother with this postage-stamp sized tissue-paper drape? What’s it covering anyway?” I’ll tell you what – it’s covering my ability to see his hands. Now, don’t get me wrong, he was very pro & I’m not accusing him of anything, but I couldn’t see his hands. Meanwhile, he sees all of me. I don’t know about you, but the only man I don’t mind not watching while he’s working on me, is my lover.  And even then, it can be fun to watch. Point is, it’s out of balance. There’s an illusion of separation because of this silly drape. But amigo, when your fingers are inside of me, there’s no separation.
 
So I’m proposing we take down the drape (if you want to, of course!). That we women acknowledge and deal with the vulnerability of what is going on on the other side of that damn drape, when a health care provider is inside our bodies. I know this is a suuuuper sensitive issue. It has always been for me. I almost didn’t go to this clinic because they only have male doctors. But it turned out to be the only fucking clinic that had what I needed. Damn. Actually, today was the first time in my life that I’ve had a male doctor. So, I get it.
 
And let’s be honest, sometimes women providers are no better. Sometimes they’re worse.
 
Now, I’m a provider too. I’ve done MANY vag exams, inserted speculums, catheters (on men too), the works. I’ve inserted tubing anywhere and everywhere one could. And I’ve got an awesome bedside manner. It’s like breathing for me.
 
I once had an 83-year-old man kiss my hands after I catheterized him.
 
I started attending births and working in hospitals when I was 20. It was a no-brainer to me to treat women, babies, people - with a shit-load of respect. To recognize their vulnerability and touch them with recognition, respect, & kindness; communicating confidence, even when I wasn’t sure how things would go, I was sure I was there, present with them, and they were better off because of it. This is easy for me. And I get that it’s not easy for many.
 
I want to change that. I want to teach people how to find greater ease in touching one another. I want to start a #touchrevolution in the medical field.
 
Join me, won’t you?
 
ps - I wrote this on an airplane this evening. Turns out that the entire time, a lovely 61-year-old Italian gentleman (who spoke very little English) looked over my shoulder reading it. We finally started chatting when he offered me a spot on his tray-table to put my wine (“chatting” = me in very broken Italian via Portuguese and Spanish & he in very broken English via, well, Italian). Turns out he thought I was writing a romance novel J We laughed a LOT.

Adventures still hurt
Joy & Grief unite right now
Connectedness sings

​There are moments when so many different facets of life are up in the air and staring me in the face, it’s difficult to know which one to look at. Which one to pay attention to first. That’s where I am today.
 
On a walk with a friend today, she said, ‘’pick one and move toward it.’’ I pick a topic that for some of you, you have heart a LOT about it these last few years. The spiritual group (I sometimes even use the word ‘cult’ – because it was a culture that used guilt, shame, and the threat of character defamation as a way to keep people there) I was a part of for 13 years. This week the topic has flared because I have a family member who is still there and it hurts. It hurts that he’s there, that he’s cutting people out of his life who love him (like I did). That he’s under the impression that God would prefer what he’s doing, when God isn’t a part of that nonsense.
 
If he would read anything I’d write I’d say….
 
Querido,

Come home. Please. I’m sorry that I was your entryway into that group. But it’s done. Over with. Complete. That first night after I left, I wish I’d told you to just leave with me. That we could talk details later but to just come. If you leave there, everyone there will abandon you, just like they did to me. That is a threat that they loom over you, whether you see it or not. Peter – he’s no good. He’s a liar & a thief. He was good at one point, but for some reason, he went south. I wish you’d all leave, so you could see that you don’t have to be sequestered to be with great people. So you could see that the world is not your enemy, but is up under you supporting your visions and dreams.
 
There’s so much more I can say. We are here – the ones that loved you before, loved you during, and will love you after. Don’t let him use me against you. Do as I did and go.

At a loss for words.
Doesn’t usually happen
Lying next to you

I’m a HUGE fan of St Francis (“it’s in the giving that we receive”). I was ordained a priest on Oct 4, his feast day. It happens to be my godmother’s (the kind of godmother that you adore from day one) birthday. And when I arrived at the Camino of Santiago two years ago, the day after the burial of my mother’s remains, it just so happened that it was the 400 year anniversary of St Francis walking the Camino. Pause to wipe a tear…
 
But, it’s in the receiving that we receive. The only way we have to give something is to have it first. To let it move through us and work in us, so it can pour out of us. That means we have to receive. I lived a life for quite a while where I lived as though the more I gave, the more I received. But because what I gave was most precious to me and what I gave was without discernment, and because who I gave to did not care about the me that was giving, the result was emptiness.
 
These days I’m thinking of me first. It’s hard because I love service. I love being for another. I love giving to another. I love thinking of another. But now I’m the other and I’m being thought of by me.
 
And so I say, it is the receiving that we receive. When I feel well, simple, and secure, it is because I am attending to the all of me that is me. I have to remind myself each day and return to myself over and over and over again.