Julie – Page 46 – unabashedly female

December 10, 2009

When I Was A Boy

One of the things near to my heart is gender healing. I see gender healing as the foundation to healing the human predicament. So, when I came across this song, I wept. Dar Williams has gifted us with a beautiful song that so poignantly speaks to what happens to both boys and girls when we become conditioned out of our natural balance of both masculine and feminine qualities.

What if we had grown up believing we are both a boy and a girl? ‘Cause we are.

WHEN I WAS A BOY

I won’t forget when Peter Pan came to my house, took my hand
I said I was a boy; I’m glad he didn’t check.
I learned to fly, I learned to fight
I lived a whole life in one night
We saved each other’s lives out on the pirate’s deck.

And I remember that night
When I’m leaving a late night with some friends
And I hear somebody tell me it’s not safe,
someone should help me
I need to find a nice man to walk me home.

When I was a boy, I scared the pants off of my mom,
Climbed what I could climb upon
And I don’t know how I survived,
I guess I knew the tricks that all boys knew.

And you can walk me home, but I was a boy, too.

I was a kid that you would like, just a small boy on her bike
Riding topless, yeah, I never cared who saw.
My neighbor come outside to say, “Get your shirt,”
I said “No way, it’s the last time I’m not breaking any law.”

And now I’m in this clothing store, and the signs say less is more
More that’s tight means more to see, more for them, not more for me
That can’t help me climb a tree in ten seconds flat

When I was a boy, See that picture? That was me
Grass-stained shirt and dusty knees
And I know things have gotta change,
They got pills to sell, they’ve got implants to put in,
they’ve got implants to remove

But I am not forgetting…that I was a boy too

And like the woods where I would creep, it’s a secret I can keep
Except when I’m tired, ‘cept when I’m being caught off guard
And I’ve had a lonesome awful day, the conversation finds its way
To catching fire-flies out in the backyard.

And so I tell the man I’m with about the other life I lived
And I say, “Now you’re top gun, I have lost and you have won”
And he says, “Oh no, no, can’t you see

When I was a girl, my mom and I we always talked
And I picked flowers everywhere that I walked.
And I could always cry, now even when I’m alone I seldom do
And I have lost some kindness
But I was a girl too.
And you were just like me, and I was just like you”

Dar Williams’ music is the music that rocked my world in 2009.

This post is part of The Best of 2009 Blog Challenge (by blogger Gwen Bell):
Day 10 Album of the year. What’s rocking your world?

December 9, 2009

The Challenge is Now

In every advanced mammalian species that survives and thrives, the adult female grows fierce when the cubs are threatened. And we….? ~Marianne Williamson

We women are protectors of the children and of the earth. Look at the love in this woman for her child.Â You can feel it.

In the Iroquois tradition, it was women who held the key responsibility of deciding whether or not to go to war, for they considered, fully, the effects of war on the children, on the generations ahead, and on the earth itself. We love our children. But we, today’s women, have been deeply conditioned out of trusting our own instincts, our feelings, and our fierceness.

Earlier this year, there was a story in the NY Times about women in India who could not feed their children. I remember reading it, and looking at the accompanying photos of these beautiful women with their starving children, and realizing just how deeply we have been conditioned to believe we have no power. What stopped these women from doing ANYTHING they could to feed their starving children? When I wondered this, I turned the question back on myself. What stopped me from doing anything to feed my starving children and grandchildren? It’s not that they don’t have enough food. They do. For now. But, and this is the important message that is now coming out loud and clear, we women know deep inside that there is something horribly wrong with the way things are in the world. As Marianne Williamson expressed, our cubs are threatened. We are all threatened. We feel it in our bodies, for we feel the wounding of the earth and all children in our bodies.

As I read this article, I felt rage that these women had no hope to feed their children, and complete wonder at how our conditioning is so strong as to kill the instinct in us to do whatever it takes to get food in the mouths of our babies.

A beautiful woman, Diana Stone, has written a book that will be released in the spring of next year. She came to speak to our Institute of Sacred Activism workshop in September. She told us that the Iroquois have said that women must stand and speak. It is time for women to stand and speak.

The time is now. I have heard this too many times to be able to hold back any longer.

The time is now. For women to speak. For women to stand and speak, to voice what they are feeling.

The time is now for me to speak, as a woman, as a mother, as a grandmother.

We are facing this challenge each and every day. What greater challenge could there be than the end of the world in the way we have known it to be. I stepped my toe into the waters with my post on Living Gratefully. But that was not enough.

Enough is enough. I spent the afternoon, yesterday, with two of my three grandchildren. When I look at them, I wonder what kind of world they will live in. I wonder how long they will get to live. I wonder how much suffering they will endure, simply because we, people who have the ability to do something about the state of affairs we find ourselves in, have done nothing to really stop the anguish of the earth, to stop our own greed, to stop our separate ways.

Yesterday, I received this long quote from a dear friend. It is an excerpt from a book she is reading, Wisdom’s Daughters (2002), which contains the words of Women Elders of Native America. The woman whose wisdom follows is Vickie Downey of the Tewa Tesugue Pueblo.

It is the time of the feminine. With a woman that is what we feel. When I look around at the different women, I see sadness and a heaviness within themselves. What they are experiencing is what the earth is experiencing — her sadness and heaviness because of the way her children are living today. Women, they have that; the feeling is there in their hearts more so than the male people, cause the male is always doing things. The male also has to realize that he has a female part to him and he has to start feeling that same feeling.

Women have to be recognized. The words of women have to be recognized. The women will come out. It might be prophesied or doesn’t have to be prophesied, but the feeling is so strong that women will come out and voice their feelings. Whether people want to hear it or not, it is going to come because it is meant to be. It is that time.

Most women can’t comprehend what it is. They feel it. It is like a depression so they go to psychiatrists, therapists, trying to figure it out. Or it turns into physical ailments. Feelings into physical ailments. So they don’t know. They know something is going on but they cannot pinpoint exactly what it is.

As people, as native people, we are trying to do our best to tell the world this is what is happening to you. This is what is happening to us. This is what is happening to the earth. No matter how many words we give them, how many books we give them, how much information we give them, it won’t help them until they finally decide “well, I am going to accept this. I am sick. I am a sick society. I am a sick world. I am a sick person.”

When we do that we can heal. Then we turn around and we help each other. Then there will not be homelessness. Then we won’t have hunger. We won’t have wars….

So, the message is coming through loud and clear. This is the challenge, and it is here, now.

The Dalai Lama recently surprised listeners when he said, “The world will be saved by western women.” We women in the west, have the more power, resources, and connection to each other than women have had anywhere in the world for many, many centuries.

All over the world, now, women have the ability to voice what is happening, to stand and speak, whether it be to each other, to their neighbors, to their government, or to each other through. We can speak through many means, which blogging is but one.

Two great quotes have been swirling in my head for some time, now.

You must learn not to be careful. Diane Arbus

You were once wild here. Don’t let them tame you! Isadora Duncan

These words take me back inside, where my feelings and instincts as a woman reside. My fierce love was tamed, made dormant and silent. But we were once wild here, and we are still wild within.

What will it take to stand and speak, to grow fierce and vocal?

Image by Yogendra174, Flickr

This post is part of The Best of 2009 Blog Challenge (by blogger Gwen Bell):
Day 9 Challenge. Something that really made you grow this year. That made you go to your edge and then some. What made it the best challenge of the year for you?

December 8, 2009December 8, 2009

Moments of Grace

I’m participating in Gwen Bell’s The Best of 2009 Blog Challenge:
Day 8: Moment of peace. An hour or a day or a week of solitude. What was the quality of your breath? The state of your mind? How did you get there?

For those of you who don’t know me, I’m a mother and a grandmother. I am a mother to two daughters, who are mothers to two sons and one daughter. My grandson is eight and his brother is 7 months. My granddaughter is 15 months.

My younger grandson was born in April of this year. The journey leading up to his birth was filled with moments of many emotions, but most noticeably trust, hope and yes, fear.

His brother, who is now eight, is a most amazing soul. He was born with a heart defect that went undiscovered until he was about twelve hours old. What unfolded after that discovery, was enough to make any human being wonder about the grace of God, or lack of any grace at all in the world. What this baby, and his parents, endured, made me question, at the deepest level, if there is a God. In the middle of the darkest moments of this baby’s first three months in the hospital, one full month in critical condition, I railed against God, not understanding at all how I could be at peace with what my beautiful first grandchild was having to endure in his first days and weeks of life; and, what his parents were having to experience. All I wanted to do was keep them safe. But, I couldn’t.

At one dark point, I took myself into the hospital chapel, shut the door, and swore I would not leave until I could ‘be with’ the way things were. I knew I wasn’t any good to anyone until I faced what it was I was unwilling to face. I prayed. I wept. I prayed. I begged. I wept some more. And then, exhausted with my own fighting against what was, I finally began to pray in earnest. No longer were my prayers about asking for what I wanted. In my exhaustion, my prayers were prayers of surrender. They were prayers of letting go. They were prayers of vulnerability, of complete opening to hear, really hear, what might be there all along, just waiting for my receptivity.

Finally, when I was quiet, open and receptive enough to hear, I heard a voice tell me that, in this moment, all was well. All was well. And with the voice, came a deep, undeniable, peace. The kind of peace that passeth all understanding. In the midst of one of the most painful moments of my life, I felt the kind of peace that moves beyond all measure of description. In this peace, I was able to go back out into the world, into the Intensive Care Unit, and really be there with, and for, those I loved.

Eight years later. My grandson is doing better than anyone could have imagined, considering the lifelong complications he faces. I won’t go into details, as those are sacred, private things that only he and his parents have the right to share. He is a most precious being, and such a teacher to us all. Life hasn’t been easy, but the peace comes when I don’t fight what is.

So, in the days leading up to this most amazing boy’s brother’s birth, I watched his parents prepare for the arrival. They were so excited and so courageous. The decision to have another child had been made with a great deal of conscious contemplation. The doctors all said the chances were good that this second child would be fine, yet they stressed there were no guarantees. There never was a definitive conclusion as to what had caused my first grandchild’s heart defect.

Early on a Tuesday morning in April, I sat in my grandson’s room as he slept. His mother and father were at the hospital, ready to give birth. My other daughter had just called to tell me that her sister was beginning to push, and that the baby, a boy as well, would be born at any time. As I waited, I sat again in prayer. For some unexplainable reason, I didn’t beg for all to be perfect, or just as I wanted it. I asked for all to be well. It’s not that I had somehow learned to be holy and accepting of all things difficult. I hadn’t, and haven’t. Yet, in this moment, when the chips were down, I was led back to the peace that defies description. I was led to open my heart to the eight-year old miracle sleeping in front of my eyes, to the miracle that he is.

As I sat in prayer, a presence, thick and deep, filled every atom of the bedroom. It filled every cell of my body. It was Grace, pure radiant Grace. It bathed us both in Its light. Grace stayed for the better part of what I believe to have been two minutes, although time left when Grace arrived.

I was pulled from this presence when my phone rang. It was my daughter calling to tell me her sister had givem bith to this new little boy. He had arrived and he was fine. His mother was fine. The birth was easy. All was well.

In this moment, I felt as if the weight of eight years had been lifted from my body. In this moment, there was such relief. In this moment, there was peace. Twelve hours later, when all was still well, I was holding this new little one in my arms, knowing that there is, indeed, Grace.

We can’t get to peace. We can’t get to Grace. Grace is always here. Grace is always holding us. It is when we let go of everything we demand of it, that we find ourselves filled with the peace of Grace that is beyond definition.

image attribution:Â Â JamesH. is now Near Earth, Flicker
http://www.flickr.com/photos/seattleye/ / CC BY 2.0

December 7, 2009December 7, 2009

Spirituality and the Internet

Day 7 – Gwen Bell’s The Best of 2009 Blog Challenge: Blog Find of the Year

This is how I see the blogsphere. A million stars tied together through connections, deeply intimate thoughts, fiery proclamations, warm invitations – a connection of souls sharing the essence of who they are and what they are here to do.

In my academic travels at Stanford, I wrote my honor’s thesis on Spirituality and the Internet. Back in 1999, when I first had this idea, the Internet held fewer constellations. In my part Computer Science/part Design major, I wanted to marry these two aspects. This topic came to me in a moment of panic as I sat across from my adviser in a show-down meeting where I HAD to make a decision on what to create. At Stanford, Spirituality and the Internet met with many raised eyebrows, a few chuckles, and couple of thoughtless remarks, but only curiosity and encouragement from my adviser, Clifford Nass.

Since those days, I have moved into coaching, teaching and writing rather than computer science; but, I am still intrigued by technology and its ability to connect us, and our thoughts, yearnings and aspirations to share our deepest essence with others, and to know others by way of theirs.

In perusing the blogsphere, I have discovered many homes where beautiful souls live. In this realm, I just can’t say what is best, for best is determined by the moment, when I happen to land on a site, am warmly invited in, and I find a moment of connection where my guest serves up her/his beat meal.

Some meals are hot and fiery (White Hot Truth), some are sexy and funny (Cleavage by Kelly Diels), some are simply breathtakingly beautiful (Amy Lenzo), some offer me the opportunity to look deeply into life (Hiro Boga), and some call me forward to take the road less travelled (Chris Guillebeau).

But, ONE blog calls me back to why I do what I do: Peace X Peace. As their name implies, their mission is to bring peace to the world, by bringing women together. Each time I read their blog, check in with the site, and read women’s stories at Voice X Voice, I re-dedicate my life’s work to bringing peace to the relationship between men and women, for the sake of our children, our planet, and all living beings.

Voice X Voice is a good analogy for the blogsphere as I see it. It’s why I blog – to sing my soul into the chorus of all souls. As I looked at all the blogs I had discovered this year, I realized even more that we all have something so important to say, AND our voice has its own flavor, its own qualities, its own complete ordinary uniqueness.

For too long, our voices have been silent. What a beautiful thing Spirituality and the Internet has become.

December 6, 2009

Tribal Authors Camp

Day 6 of Gwen Bell’s Best of 2009 Blog Challenge

Our prompt:
Conference or Workshop I attended in 2009 that was especially beneficial? Where was it? What did you learn?

This year I attended a variety of workshops, including: a 5Rhythms Dance workshop on Maui, called Libido, where we focused on dancing our sensual, creative energy; a social media camp for authors titled Tribal Authors, in New York City; and a two-part conference in Oak Park, Illinois put on by the Institute for Sacred Activism. Each of these workshops were very different, and all were highly beneficial. I attended each one as a result of an intuitive hit that I needed to go. In hindsight, I can see my intuition is spot-on!

As part of this blog challenge, I’ve already written a bit about the dance workshop on Maui and the conference on Sacred Activism (and related experiences). So, in this post, I’ll focus on the Tribal Authors Camp in New York City.

Tribal Authors is the bright idea of Jonathan Fields, author of Career Renegade.

I spent two days with Jonathan, and over twenty other brilliant people who have written, or are writing, books, and who want to learn how to sell their books in today’s world.

Jonathan knows his stuff. He shared what he knows generously. I learned so much about social media- the ins and outs, what to do, what not to do, and some great things on the horizon that many aren’t yet even aware of.

Plus, and this is the really great part, I met some great people, who are also kick-ass social media mavens (I’m not too proud to name-drop here) like @lenawest, @AmyOscar, @daverendall, @ManishaThakor and @AmyPorterfield.

The benefits of attending Tribal Authors Camp were the nuts and bolts about how to put together a social media strategy and campaign to sell your books in an era when traditional publishing is not what it used to be. As Jonathan wrote:

“In the end, it really comes down to one questionâ€“who has the power? If youâ€™re answer right now is, â€œnot me,â€ then youâ€™ve got two choices. Fantasize about a future thatâ€™s never going to happenâ€¦or build a next-generation digital tribe thatâ€™ll give you 10 times more power to control your writing, sell thousands more books and make a lot more money doing what you love.”

The Tribal Authors Camp was more than worth the time, money and effort it took for me to get there. And, I discovered a whole new world and way to sell my soon-to-be-ready-for-prime-time book.

December 5, 2009

For the Love of Music

Today, in thinking about which â€˜night outâ€™ of 2009 was the best for Gwen Bell’s Best of 2009 Blog Challenge, I realized just how much music has to do with enjoying an evening out for me. More than anything, I get so much pleasure from hearing live music, or dancing to music, or both. All three experiences that made it to my final selection revolved around music.

In the end, though, my choice came down to passion, love, creativity and synergy. I love passionate performances. I love creative expression and synergy between performers. And, I love it when musicians play from the love in their hearts.

My favorite night out this year contained all of these things. In an intimate live concert with Bloom Project, at a small church in Berkeley, I became a fan of improvised music. The October concert was an improvisational duet with pianist Thollem McDonas and saxaphonist, Rent Romus.

These two men are incredible musicians. They are so good at improvisation, that you feel both the synergy of musicians playing as if they have known each other their entire lives, and the flow that comes when perfromers are completely in the moment, perfectly attuned to each other’s next impulse.

Thollem is an amazing pianist, and he is my brother. He is actually my half-brother, as we have the same father, but different mothers. Life is funny. In 2008, both our mothers passed away. When you arrive at the home page of Thollem’s web site, you see a dedication to his mother, Geraldine. Gerry, as we knew her, was a pianist, too, as well as piano teacher who taught for decades. Thollem comes from piano genes, as my father plays as well.

What made this night so special was something less tangible than the incredible music. In listening to him play, I could feel something deeper and richer in his music than I had ever heard before in his concerts. As I sat listening, I was carried back to his mother’s memorial service in early January of this year, when Thollem played Clair de lune live, dedicating the song to his mother. In the five minutes or so that Thollem played that day, he poured out his heart into every note he played. Each note was filled with so much love for his mother. This love was present, again, in this evening concert.

As in most beautiful magical moments, something came together for me that night. Something so simple. I listened to the love for music that infuses Thollem’s notes and I felt his love for life, his love for his mother, and my love for him. This music itself was beautiful, and the experience was unforgettable.

December 4, 2009September 17, 2012

Growing Whole in the Darkness

â€œAll beauty contains darkness.â€ ~ Daniel Odier

Learning to see, and then act, outside of the current patriarchal structure has been a journey of ever widening circles, much like a spiral. It is the journey of living the feminine, a way of life that is very different than that which I was taught to know. It means trusting what is revealed in each moment of present awareness, and feeling for what is ripe with the promise of birth. I go in and out of living this way, but as the circles of understanding grow, I find myself opening to the darkness of the feminine to receive Her guidance.

When this guidance is revealed, the only thing that lies ahead is darkness, the darkness of the unknown. The only thing known is that one choice, the one thing that is the most obvious choice. My mind struggles with the darkness, wanting desperately to know what lies ahead, and yet I also know in my heart that this darkness, this unknown, is the mystery of life waiting to be revealed. The divine mystery is the new, is this darkness from which all emerges.

What I am learning to trust in is the strong pull of this knowing. You might call this intuition, but for me, as I live deeper into the cells of my own body, it is knowing.

I found, what I guess you could call the ‘best’ book of 2009, this way. I saw it on a friend’s desk and knew I must read it. The pull was unavoidable. A friend had given him the book, for reasons he couldn’t understand. He had no intention of reading it, but for some reason had not yet given it away.

I would call this book a gift. A gift given and gratefully, and voraciously, received. Not all of the book kept my rapt attention, but the parts that did carried me deeper into the darkness, deeper into the parts of myself that were thirsting for light. I was yearning for gnosis. Through a marriage of the wisdom of this book and my own willingness to allow a new kind of knowing to emerge from within, I began to deepen my trust in this darkness.

The book that has so many dog ears, cracks in the spine, lines underlined, recommendations to others, is Dancing in the Flames: The Dark Goddess in the Transformation of Consciousness. The authors are Marion Woodman and Elinor Dickson. In my knowing, this book can be a guide book for the journey into darkness that we all, and most especially women, must take. As Woodman states, “The evolutionary imperative within the collective unconscious is pushing us toward a new level of consciousness.” We must learn to stand alone, in our own wholeness, if we are going to survive. And, learning to stand alone means diving into the darkness, to come to know ourselves again in a whole new way.

As Odier shares, there is beauty in darkness. It is the rich soil from where all of life emerges.

Today’s post is Day 4 (best book) of Gwen Bells’ Best of 2009 Blog Challenge.

December 3, 2009

Sacred Activism

The most life-changing ‘article’ I experienced this year was, and still is, The Great Death, delivered in the medium of video by Andrew Harvey. This video is actually the first of seven, and it drew me in so quickly and deeply that I watched another, and another, and another, until I had watched all seven in one sitting. As I watched, I realized I finally had a term and words to put to what my work has become – Sacred Activism.

Over the past seven years, I have been drawn deeper and deeper into the darkness of the Sacred Feminine. It really has been longer than that, but it was seven years ago that I could name what was happening within my being. I’ve been aware of the re-awakening of the sacred feminine within consciousness, as a whole, and within my own psyche. I left my work as a programmer/analyst because I knew I must help birth this consciousness within me, and within others.

After being zinged by Andrew, I contacted the Institute and joined their co-creator program in July. This first year, they had four coming-togethers in Oak Park, Illinois, so I joined in time for the third and fourth program. Being a part of the program has changed my entire view of how to do this sacred work in the world.

“When the joy of compassionate service is combined with the pragmatic and practical drive to transform all existing economic, social and political institutions, a radical divine force is born – Sacred Activism.

This is my third post in Gwen Bell’s blog challenge, the best of 2009

December 2, 2009

Sometimes, Life is Like Pasta

Sometimes, life is like pasta – in the simplest moments, when the heart is set free to enjoy the little things it loves, life is served up al dente, or ‘to-the-tooth’. In these simple moments, taking it in, (life that is) is like savoring rich, warm pasta, that is soft in the mouth, but still has a firmness that feels so right.

In these al dente moments, there is a rightness to life, an alignment where one feels so much a part of the ebb and flow, of the community, of the day. It’s like life and you have settled down for a warm meal and you enjoy each other’s company. The surroundings don’t need to be posh, and what’s happening doesn’t have to be good and big and splashy. Life is just there, served up to be savored.

A few months ago, I had a meal with my honey, Jeff, where life was served up just this way.

Jeff and I were in the city, San Francisco. We had come from Berkeley, to enjoy the annual fleet week, where the Blue Angels put on a show over the San Francisco Bay, using the Golden Gate bridge and Alcatraz as their stage props. Unusual for October, the day was gray and foggy, and really cold.

When the show was over we trudged up from the Marina to Chestnut street, ready for a hot meal. It was only a few minutes before 5:00, but we were cold and hungry. I remembered a place to eat that we had been to once before – E’ Angelo Trattoria. Fortunately, they opened at 5:00 on Sundays. We made our way there. By the time we entered, there was only one table available – so surprising for 5:00 on a Sunday.

The restaurant is very traditional Italian. The wait staff is Italian by birth, and that day many of the patrons were Italian. Ever since I spent three months studying in Florence, I have so enjoyed moments when I get to have a taste of Italy here in the States, even if just for a meal. That day, there seemed to be lots of kids out with their grandparents, one group sitting right next to us. It’s such a sweet sight to see two elderly people, totally enjoying their young grandchildren.

The special that night was Beef Short Ribs and Pappardelle. Now, I hardly ever eat pasta…only when I’m in Italy. But, this night Jeff and I both ordered the special. This is when life served up the most amazing meal, al dente. I can still taste the flavors of this amazing dish. The pasta was just right, and had been blessed with a virgin olive oil and seasoning that melted right in my mouth. Pappardelle comes from a verb that means to ‘gobble up’.

For some reason, everything just came together that night. Life served up a rich, beautiful moment, and I was lucky enough to notice and take it in.

Day 2- Gwen Bell’s blog challenge, Best of 2009

December 1, 2009June 7, 2011

Libido, Hana & The Sensuality of Life

Today, I’m writing as part of a December blog challenge, The Best of 2009. In this challenge, I’ve been asked to write about a topic each day, a topic that focuses on the ‘best of’ for this year. We’re given a prompt for each day – to use or not – but today’s prompt, What was your best trip in 2009?, is way too juicy for me to pass by…juicy, because my best trip for this year was the two weeks I spent in Maui.

Ahhhhhhhh… Just writing that begins to bring it all back. The sun, the fruit, the amazing water, HaleakalÄ, and Hana. Oh, and my Libido dance workshop. Yes, all of these delicious things were rolled up into two weeks in paradise. I personally don’t know how anyone lives there and gets a lick of work done.

The trip began when I read about a 5 Rhythms dance workshop on Libido to be held at Studio Maui over three days in July, one of which was my birthday. How could I resist? Maui, libido, dancing, all to celebrate my birthday. When I told my partner Jeff about it, he was in. You see, his birthday is five days after mine. We just happened to be born the same year, five days apart. We always try to find some great place to go and unwind for our birthdays. While Jeff doesn’t dance, he was more than game to find something to do on Maui for those three days that I would be dancing.

We landed a few days before my workshop was to begin, and started out by just lying on the beach in West Maui. The water was divine and I let myself just melt into it, and into the warmth of the sun. We did nothing. For two days. Swam. Slept. Ate. Drank in the sunshine. Then, we packed up and traveled to Haiku, a small town on the North side of the island.

Dancing libido was beyond description. 5 Rhythms has been my main practice for over seven years now, and I know it is what has kept me sane as I have dealt with life’s offerings: death, birth and all the experiences in between. The workshop invited us to open to, and dance, our libido, what Carl Jung refers to as, “…the energy that manifests itself in the life process and is perceived subjectively as striving and desire.” While we usually think of the more narrow definition of libido as sexual desire, it is really so much more. Dancing this energy of desire and sensuality, creativity and expression, was a very powerful way to open to the sensuality of Maui. Little did I know at this point just how sensual a land Maui is.

Dancing the 5Rhythms is such a compassionate and loving way to exlpore realms of self that have been pushed into the shadow, realms that seem to powerful, dark and primal to allow out in everyday life. The dance is a way to let the body bestow its wisdom and ability to heal upon the psyche. Being in a room with so many other dancers exploring this primal and love-filled energy is a gift of major magnitude, for there aren’t many places in our culture where we can learn to be comfortable with this power that rises up from the core of our nature. I emphasize love-filled, for my experience during this workshop was of the magnitude of the power of this love. Love is at the heart of our life-force, the force the is the heart of all creation.

After the workshop was over, we made our way to Mama’s Fish House – very much a touristy restaurant, but an incredible dining experience, too. My birthday dinner there was most memorable, as my entire being was still aglow from my dance experience.

The next morning we made the trek to the top of HaleakalÄ. Being on top of the island, looking down into the crater is an experience I’ll never forget. The beauty and power of this place is something you can’t describe in words. I’ll just let the pictures speak for me…

We then made our way back down the mountain and over to the coast, where we picked up the “Road to Hana”…and yes, it is quite a drive! You can buy T-shirts that say, “I survived the road to Hana’. The lush green of the vegetation as we arrived in Hana took my breath away as it lured me into my most animal nature, awakening something very old. I knew I had come home…it was as if I knew I had been here before. The only other time I have felt this totally delectable feeling in my body was when I was in southern India, in Varkala. There is something about the tropical land (Hana is as close as you can get to old Hawaii from what I understand) that just soothes my body and soul and brings me into complete presence with the land.

Each day we were there, we would wake up before the sunrise, walk across the street to Hamoa Beach (yes, our cottage was across the street from one of the top 10 beaches in the world) and swim as the sun rose. Almost every day, we had the beach to ourselves.

Ever since I was young, I have loved fresh fruit. I could live on it. That’s the other thing I loved about this trip. Each day I feasted on the most luscious fresh fruit that we purchased at roadside stands. We were even served fresh bananas, right off the tree, in Haiku, by the woman we rented our apartment from.

The land in Hana just feels so welcoming. In writing today, I realized how certain cultures seem to know they are part of nature, unlike our culture here in the States, where I hear all the time people say they are going to ‘go spend some time in nature. When I was in southern India, I felt completely one with my surroundings, not just a visitor in nature. I felt this same way here in Hana. I could just breath in and drink up the divine force that is both the creator and creation itself. We don’t have to go to nature. We are nature.

Each morning in Hana, I would sit and feel the warm tropical breeze across all parts of my skin and experience the sensations of my sensual animal nature. The sun, the wind, the water, the fruit, and the earth all fed me in a way that felt as old as earth itself. I felt held by the Great Mother, the Big Womb of Life, and began to know another part of me that had been dormant for so many years, perhaps even lifetimes. It was very simple. And profoundly humbling. The earth still holds us, even though we haven’t been such loving, grateful children to Her. In Hana, they are so respectful of the land, the ‘Aina‘. They get that She holds us and they revere Her.

Upon my return from Maui, I realized I now know myself more deeply, more sensually, and more primal than before. It’s all right here within us, this libido that is our creativity, our sensuality, our primal life force. Oh how we try so hard to deny our nature- that we are nature, that we are animals with a big, over-active, self-reflective brain, and a divinely sensual, loving life-force. This is at the heart of wild creativity.

This was my best trip of 2009.