Caught Between Worlds

I have a theory that I was a fish in a past life and that I'll be a bird in a future life. I sometimes feel an awkwardness in my body, like I'm caught in between the two other worlds and contained by a life on land.

Acting on inspiration

I found a picture of me with a total look of contentment. I feel such a deep gratitude at the gift of being able to live where I do. If I could bottle my joy and share it, I would.

It's the strangest thing, though, how I struggle to actually get things done. In a guest-loving culture, one eventually has to play host. Repeatedly. I have to admit, I'm not nearly as good at being a host as I am at being a guest. Partially because I don't have my team of adept men and women in the background daily facilitating and implementing the 'open house' policies and procedures of every household in this valley and beyond. Its impressive. Impeccable. Admirable.

So I'm not sure how it is that one without a job can end up being so busy that nothing is accomplished in the end. Mysterious. Perplexing. Ironic. I think the lack of a forced schedule plays into this dilemma. I find when I am under pressure I actually accomplish much more, although I also forget a lot more too. And speaking of forgetting ... wait, what was I going to say? That's my daily quote now.

On and on the idiosyncrasies bloom when one is free and open. I welcome them. Its like getting to know a whole new me. The lack of boundaries makes my spirit and energies and thoughts fly beyond the usual limits ... soaring sometimes in distinct patterns and at other times staccato; bravado; or just plain out of sight. There's an accompanying expansion, if one is not too careful ... and not too careful is exactly what we're after. Too careful might carry a hint of fear and these are the days to bury fear six feet under or further. These are the days for plowing straight through anything that happens to appear on this path; not thoughtlessly or carelessly, but also without even a nano-second of hesitation.

My mantra for this epoch: I will not hesitate to act out of inspiration. Have you ever had one of those fleeting moments where your heart is so profoundly moved by something that you absolutely see clearly what act you need to accomplish? Those times that you fail to act on them, or, let's keep this personal, those times that I fail to act on those inspired moments I always feel a twinge of regret. As much about the failure to act, or rather at the second-guessing that stopped my actions, which is what is really going on and, if I stop and think about it, both are the result of fear. Thus, bury the SOB fear as close to the burning, churning core of the earth as possible, stand up straight and ACT. ON. WHATEVER. INSPIRES. YOU. NOW!

Hey! Who stole my soap box? Show's over. 'Night, 'night.

Sweet moon. My moon.

Saw the moon last night again. First time in awhile. I breathed a deep sigh of relief, combined with familiarity, gratitude and a comforting calm.

Oh the moon. Sweet moon. My moon.

Life is good when she comes around grinning at me once a month ... those months, at least, that I am fortunate enough to glimpse her. Those months that she has not become so shy that she covers herself with a cloak of clouds. She was waiting for me last night as I walked out of a world of a different kind and into the connective light and smile of her warmth and grace. My heart soared up to meet her suggestive light and deep feeling of love.

Thank you escaped my lips in a breathy expression. Thank you a thousand times. It is good to be reunited with you.

Home Sweet Home

I just realized recently that I had not even posted a photo of our beautiful Rasht Valley. I love this place to the core of my being. Don't know if I can even explain it articulately or poetically, or any other way, but it is now in my marrow. The picture on the top is the town I live in, Gharm, and the one on the bottom is looking up the valley towards Kyrgyzstan.

Bee-ware

I finally had my first meeting with 10 honey producers to discuss the merits of starting a honey cooperative. This will be my first foray into this world of business and I may just end up stumbling blindly through each process until and unless a number of angel helpers step in to guide my way. I am excited beyond measure or words. I think the potential for our success is enormous. Rasht Valley honey is, beyond a doubt in my mind, some of the BEST HONEY IN THE WORLD. And, according to a honey report I read today, "Demand continues to outweigh supply for honey in the world market. Prices remain very strong for all the available honey." Bee-ware world, here we come.

The Golden Light

Sometimes life feels like this picture - a dark ominous cloud hanging over head, following us around like a little ship on the wide expansive sea. But, there's this golden lining here - the light. We have to reach for the light and keep reaching, stretching out of the darkness. Focus on the light. Focus. On. The. Light.

I have a tendency towards purple or hues thereof. Speaking with my Spanish colleague Emma one lazy day, we were discussing this bold visual blast. Emma states, "I don't like the color purple" in her sweet but sassy Spanish-accented English. I look at her and state emphatically, "Emma, purple ain't a color, it's an attitude!"