Deep diving my own story. Driving from one side of the country to the other. Talking with shamans and dream teachers and poets. My mother died and I climbed into her blue Hyundai Sonata and drove to my daughter – New York to LA. On the way out, I thought I was doing a marketing trip – selling my Soul Call Cards along the way. By the time I was headed back home, I knew what this was: a vision quest. I cancelled the workshops. I turned off the radio. I followed the voice of the GPS the way I follow my yoga teacher – led along, moving without thinking.
I was free.
When I got home, I drove to my son at the end of Long Island. Then, I drove to the Gulf Coast of Florida, where aquamarine waves lapped at my ankles and a group of soul sisters (plus one brother) massaged my heart with stories.
After ten years in virtual space, I was starving for land – physical land – and for people, flesh, blood and bone people. Hands and eyes and bodies.
In the process, driving, I came up with a plan: a way that I might live now. A way I might come more fully into my feet, my hands, my body.
I took the plan inside – into my journal and into my dream life. it bloomed and morphed and rebloomed. Full workshops formed and dissolved. Bright poems spilled onto the page.
I am flooded with the freshness of it – the people and places, the ideas and stories. I have so much to tell you. And I know you have things to share with me.