Please excuse my recent absence. Things have been kind of crazy. That special kind of crazy that happens just before momentum begins. Well, we finally have momentum, and in some ways I credit my #21.5.800 journey for that. The movement is on a long-term project though and it will probably take a few months to solidify, so forgive me too for not sharing the details here now.
The place I am in at the moment is an interesting one. I haven’t been here before, but I have done this before. I have begun projects. I have made commitments. I am a planner by nature. If you need planning or nurturing, I’m your girl. I have just never undertaken it from this perspective before.
Normally a happy Rae (thats what my friends call me, Rae, and if your reading this I guess you’re a friend now. Right?) in the past was busy with a happy dance. Usually a staccato, groovy happy dance. Not a flowing belly dance. Not that I am a great dancer either way. Happy Rae of the past would do a lot of bouncing on the spot, some running on tippy toes, lots of running around, going to meet people , in general lots of doing. My best friend describes me as excitable if that gives you a clearer picture.
Currently I am happy. Very, very, very, happy actually and yet I have no urge to bounce.
I have not bounced, run on tippy toes or rushed to organise get-togethers. I have a pervading sense of stillness. I have grown quiet. I have become calm. I am acutely, almost painfully, aware of the balance of all things. I have grown more tender and more compassionate. My happiness has made me more generous of heart. On a profound level I feel more connected and a greater urge to give. Even to myself.
I have grown gentler and softer. I have bypassed the rigidity of excitement and the expectation that accompanies good news. I am hopeful. I am open. I am unguarded. I have slowed down. Despite my joy and hope I am also in touch with the sadness and loss of life. I am not experiencing sadness in my life right now, but it exists none the less. And I feel it.
Sheryl Crow’s I shall believe is one of my all time favourite songs. It speaks of sadness, hope and healing. In it I see the transition from the anguish of loss to the bliss of returning to glory. That place between anguish and bliss, of neither but aware of both; this seems to be my new home. The place of mindful compassion and faith is where I find myself now.
Where are you?


