on the road. part 2. in the details of yes.

I feel like I have been a continuous cycle of no.  

Not because I am a no person. Quite the opposite. In the process of thinking I was learning no, I was actually stuck in a pattern of saying yes. I said yes to many, many things-  things that have been a part of the beauty way, things that have fed me and healed me and made me lit with joy.  Things that have schooled me. Things that also created busy, busy.  Things that I chose to dive into with my whole body, mind and creative force. 

The yeses have been glorious and scary and are deeply branded into my cells, imprinting my inner development and growth.  The yeses have been wide spread wildfire.  The action of building up and burning down. 

But these yeses had effects, and one of them was all the No's that were born from them. 

Besides sucking at the practice of No,  I am also incompetant at balance.   Personally I think balance is a pot of crap anyway, an illusion.  It's really a practice of swaying in every direction while still knowing where the center is.  Even if you stop by it only once and a while to take a big breath in or out or both, you know how to get there. I am also an expert in getting lost. Which isn't always bad, but not always good either.  I tend to just lean all the way over to one edge until I fall so deep into the mystery, chucking the compass out the door, flying endless until exhausted or landing on a dirt road of a place I never expected to be. This is all fine. Until it's not.

I had to reframe everything to remember what really was a yes in my life.  There is a time for jumping head first and a time for pulling back and looking around at what you already have, right there, in front of your eyes. I had to shed so much skin to uncover the direction my blood actually flowed. I had to take off a lot sunglasses to see my life unfiltered. {I also kept pulling this damn card around all my creative + life choices = a slap of my reality on repeat.}  I decided to stop it all, sit still, look around.  And really, where else to do this all but down by the river?

* * *

Where do you wanna go? 

As far as we can inside it all.  

What do you want it to have?

Heat. So hot I moult.  And dry. So dry I peel. And direct sunlight.  And water. Any kind of clean water.  And just us. Nobody else around. 

So after a two day stop here to witness a stunning reminder between two beloved hearts and their powerful commitment, their turning towards each other in union {the most righteous and glorious kind of wedding} we proceeded deeper into the Sierra Nevada’s with the taste of love on our own tongues.  It was a sweet and salty flavor of everything we meant when we said yes to each other that day, way back when, when I was barefoot and we gave each other rings.  When we offered each other not just our own lives, but said yes to each other’s wings, when we said yes to everything the other wanted and all the places we wanted to fly.  When we said yes to them, those girls, just sparks and spirits hovering over our entrance in the shape shadows and dragonflies and jars of honey on the altar.  When we said yes to love. 

 * * * 

We said yes to love.  And laid in it, in it’s sunlight, in it’s moonlight, in it’s easylight, in it’s burning light against the gentle flow of summer’s water at the Clark Fork of the Stanislass River.

Loaded with bear medicine, ballsy squirrels which may or may not carry the plague, and visiting coyotes brushing up against our tent, we fell back in love with that force of nature, in that kind of seclusion you can only get deep inside the Mother. It's that fierce and unyeilding force that birthed us us all into One from the beginning. It's that place of re-membering, of re-winding, of re-knowing. We fell back in love with the exact kind of yes we all needed; communion to the wild. 

* * *

We said bring on the sun that slices the pines in a million differet ways.  The forgiveness and hope of light permeating the ever necessary darkness, to bind the two so they both can take over, equally. 


We said yes to hands in the sand.  Building homes for the other side, for the visitors who sprinkle the sparkle of magic in their world still.  Gathering what was already there and creating a thank you and your welcome to those we cannot see.  


We said yes to rooting down. To being there, nowhere else but there, living in swimsuits and eating charcoaled meat, and gorging ourselves on berries and beer and marshmallows and conversation.  We rooted into the notion of nothingness, the simple statement of no-plans and no-thoughts and not caring about anything but how the sun warms us right here and how when we lay right down on the rocks, they don’t even bother our bones. 


We said yes to being broken.  Because we are.  And because nature is too.  Trees snap in half in wicked storms.  And from the broken scatteredness, the rough edges and jagged spears, the halfness and the bits and pieces - somehow a more perfect and miraculous Whole lives, exactly as it is.  And in the details, new life sprouts right there, from the inside of what has already been made into two. To be broken is to grow back through the cracks. To be broken gives wild, messy lines to walk. It gives good ledges to swing legs from and go higher and higher.  It gives a thrilling place to jump from, eyes closed, holding the hands of love complete.

We said yes to getting wet.  Of stepping into the power of the water.  Of learning how to slip on it's slick rocks and splash it’s gifts fliying into the air.  We said us to shivering and sopping bodies when the sun finally set and all that was left was a skeleton of light pressed against the river’s flow. 

We said yes to random creation. Sponteneous communication. Pens to paper. Eyes to earth. Belly to ground. Listening. 

We said yes to looking up.  To laughing at what is above, the ulitmate tricksters of our imaginations. To a young peacock’s message of having some fun and cracking up at the insanity of it all, how utterly hysterical it is, this life and what decides to show up.  How hard it is. How easy it is. How unbeliavably immpermenant it all is. So we just laid down and looked up and rolled around so we could see all things from a different perspective. 

We said yes to paying attention.  To all that wants to be beautiful, to stand alone, to find unity, to grow bold, to explode in fearlessness. To all that must be seen. To all that is never meant to be discovered. 


In the details, in the condesation against each breath, there are the details, the details that remind you of why we have chosen this life.  It's a enormous gift to be able to see them.