Oh blessings on the medicine of the farm and the sweetness of Santa Maria. Thank you for these moments of deepest pain and isolation so I may know myself again. Thank you to open arms welcoming me back home and a reminder to let go both of what this family was and what it will be. Blessings on this strange human organism, a garden housing the pulsing buds of what life could be. A strange flower that asks to be pollinated with our love and watered with our tears. Happy to be of service. Happy to keep this garden.
I came to feel and the farm has fed my own precious heartflower with the land’s gentle light. Hiking the hills, singing in circle, running from all of it and discovering there is no where to hide. The whirlwind of this bold balancing act between the Mother and Father within us all, between service and solitude, between unconditional love and the depths needed to go to find it. The flowers and the trees, the rotting logs and dead kitties, all begging in one great chorus for us to see the gifts in all of it. The soil so rich because of the shed skin which feeds it and the honest hands who pray for it.
On a boat to a different bay, I feel my heart is so broken it has peeled open like the meat of Eden’s forbidden fruit. A weeping Eve, within it I find a seed.
