Meeting Life — Mark Nepo

There is a part of me that wants to be Mark Nepo when I grow up. He’s a writer, a poet, a spiritual teacher and guide, a workshop and retreat leader. Wait a minute — I’m involved in all of that. So, a correction — there’s a part of me that wants to do all of those things at the scale of Mark Nepo. That’s the part of Mark Nepo that I want to be when I grow up.

Crazy statement, right? I’m 53. Oh ya, that. But then, life is a process of growing up isn’t it. It’s continual, this search for meaning and the sense-making of experience. It’s continual, this process of waking up to things spiritual, going to sleep so as not to face the challenges, and then sometimes crawling out of bed to begin again, drawn solely by the beauty of the single rose in the garden. I find that.

Crazy statement, right? I’ve never even met Mark Nepo. I don’t know if I’ve ever listened to his voice. But I will. I’m inspired to. A Youtube search will help. I’m inspired to start snooping for a workshop and retreat that I could get to. I’m inspired this morning to go back to the books that I have and let the words wash over me. That’s my experience with Mark Nepo words. They was over me. I often don’t read the whole book, because a paragraph, even randomly chosen, washes me and is enough for me to go looking for myself.

Kalaoa StonesSecond, I’m well aware of the phrase, “Be yourself. Everyone else is taken.” I just hate that phrase. Sometimes. Because it is more convenient to think of being somebody else. I want to be Mark Nepo when I grow up. It’s a balm to take unfolding self and project it on to others, thus avoiding the essential self journey, isn’t it. But then, let’s be kind. Becoming self is simultaneously 100% always happening, and, iterative too. It’s a kind of vacation to just imagine being someone else for a bit that inspires me to go back to work, with hopefully a bit of sand in my toes.

The caption below is from Mark Nepo’s weekly reflections. You can sign on to get these at www.threeintentions.com. I’m saying it’s well worth it.
l

MEETING LIFE
Mark Nepo

When we can still ourselves, our heart will sink —of its own weight—below the noise of the world, the advice of others, and even our own expectations. Once that still, our mind can relax and we have the chance to inhale what matters. This is how we practice meeting life.

So when losing track of what I believe in, when wondering what work I’m called to next, I still my heart until I stop feeding the dark things that keep shouting they’re important. In that stillness, I ask myself: Where is the light coming from today? What do I have to do to put myself in its path? What part of me is illuminated for leaning into life? What can I learn by being so lighted? What is it my heart can’t keep from doing that will bring me more alive?

To lean into life requires a quiet courage that lets us find our aliveness. And the reward for leaning into life is that everything hidden becomes sweet and colorful. Or more, we are finally present enough to receive the sweetness and the color. Consider how a flower opens. It doesn’t prepare for a particular moment, but stays true to a life of leaning toward the light. When a flower blossoms, it turns inside out and wears its beauty in the world. As do we. In just this way, a soul opens over a lifetime of leaning into life.

Despite the hardships we encounter, the heart keeps opening after closing, the way day follows night. Until meeting life is our daily experiment in truth. No matter the obstacles, we’re asked to welcome the sweet teachers along the way. Until we accept that the secret kingdom is everywhere.

I’m In This

Feet in Sand

And this.

Our Wyndam Pool

And this.

Waipio Beach

Human to Human returns July 4th, with what I hope will be sand still in my toes.

Today’s Society

Today's Society

I saw this yesterday on Chris Corrigan‘s Facebook post. Chris posted the simple words, “We are all connected.” I love the invitation and challenge he offers.

The best humor, I find, is the stuff that is true, and that shows the absurd. How absurd to think of being comfortable on the top end of the boat when the back of it is close to going under. How absurd to distance ourselves from what is so close. How absurd to not see the grand body of water that they are about to sink in. How absurd to deny connection.

I don’t think it is about everything connected in every way. But I do think that connection is a disposition. It’s not just an airy fairy mission statement. It’s an attitude and expectation. It is a red thread in the story. That’s different than the disposition (intended or unintended), attitude, red thread, and story of separation, AND, the behavior, practices, and policies that separation creates.

Ceremony, Ancestors, and Aspen

Aspen at Willow Heights 2

In the last week I have been able to learn much with two important and good friends. I’ve learned about ceremony, ritual, ancestors, and aspen.

Chronologically, the first friend was with Kinde Nebeker, who hosted a day-long Medicine Walk up Big Cottonwood Canyon in Utah’s Wasatch Mountains, seen above. The aspen are budding at this time of year at that elevation, about 8,500 feet. Just as Kinde’s work, that includes rites of passage, is budding into a more full presence. The medicine walk included a deliberateness of threshold crossing, setting an intention, going solo the bulk of the day, returning to share some of what I and the others learned, and to be witnessed. I love how she held space for a deeper letting go.

The second friend was Quanita Roberson, who came to Utah to host QT with me. QT very much connects to the letting go that I experienced with Kinde. There is one point in the process with Quanita when we created ceremony to let go of that which doesn’t serve us. It included fire, burning a symbol of that which we don’t need, and a grief canal, a passage to get to the work of releasing. I love the way that Quanita talked about ceremony and working with the ancestors. “The thing about ritual is that you don’t have to believe it or know how it works for it to work. The act of choosing to participate is enough.” She then added, from one of her teachers, the West African Dagara Elder, Malidoma Some, “The ancestors in the west are the most unemployed ancestors in the world.”

I don’t know how all of that invisible work works. But I have the feeling that we did indeed employ some of them in the last week.