Friday, October 24, 2014


Feeling the quiet, the amazing deep silence in the giant Redwood groves in Northern California was sublime. My sister and I would get out of the car, on the more remote roads off the beaten path and I would say, oh my god, do you hear it? and she would say hear what? and I would say yes, exactly! Nothing. Complete and total silence... stillness.

I've felt that same quality of stillness a handful of times and places. Looking out from Yosemite's Glacier Point across the deep, river sculpted valley, past Half Dome to stark, rugged Tenaya Canyon. Watching meteor showers over Crater Lake in the middle of the night cradling my sleeping six-year-old in my lap. Looking out and down from the Kalaupapa Lookout on Moloka'i, to the sheer cliffs that rise three thousand feet from the ocean and the tiny, once-tragedy-filled peninsula below. Alaska's other worldly Glacier Bay. Swimming in the Gulf Stream, where deep indigo and golden sun rays dance with such mind-boggling intimacy; and being in the water eye to eye with wild dolphins...

I've never been quite sure exactly what I was experiencing. Quiet and silence, yes. But I suspect it is much more than that. Something intangible and unnameable... that is at once quiet and yet so full it overflows. Something so permeable it is not just out there, in the beauty of nature, but also inside. In everything in fact; in me - how else would I recognize it - the trees, the animals, the sunlight, the air, and the space that holds it all. It is ageless, eternity itself; it catches my breath, fills me with awe, and leaves me in wonder, knowing with certainty I have come face to face with the sacred. Here's another thing I suspect... I suspect that this thing, this stillness, is always there... is never not there, in fact, but it takes a certain place, no, not even a place, though I'm guessing it's more accessible in certain circumstances, in ancient groves for example, in deep meditation for example, in the wild, in deep water, starry nights, anywhere there is quiet, always there; in bliss, in fear, in despair, in contentment... always there... never ever not there... 

“Whenever there is stillness
 there is the still small voice,
 God's speaking from the 
nature's old song, 
and dance...” 

Wednesday, October 8, 2014

A Gift From Our Mother

A fogbow (also known as a white rainbow), which I didn't even know existed until two days ago... Trinidad Bay, Northern California.

This was after the bald eagle took off and flew directly over the car (in Marin County no less...) and after the drive through the ancient Redwood groves, the tallest trees on Earth. It was before the herd of elk, including a wobbling kneed baby, and an amazingly regal rutting male, prior to Agate Beach where beautifully sea-polished semi-precious stones are there for the asking.

She is so stunning, our precious Mother Earth, so full of magic, messages and gifts; startling beauty, power, fierceness, gentleness, graciousness.

Tonight I will go to sleep to the sound of surf just outside the room.

How lucky we are to be living in this beautiful world...