Here is a newsletter/email I sent out today…

Yesterday was Lughansa, August 1st, a day of celebration for some of my ancestors, a day of joy and gratitude– the harvest is here. If you've opened up this e-mail, Thank You. If you decide to read it all the way through, Thank you. If you end up at the bottom and click, yes, to any of the invitations I'm offering, Thank You.

I walked a path today through wild roses and trembling aspens with a big blue sky overhead. Barefoot, I stopped on a hill and laid down. I felt the cells of my whole being in vibration with the earth. A deep sense of calm and steadiness filled me. I continue to hold the calm as I write to you now.

I have three purposes today:

We are the world worth saving, a definition.
An unfolding pathway.
Three invitations based on We are the world worth saving.
bonus…Gifts for writers and peace lovers.

We are the world worth saving, a definition.

I've been hearing this phrase in my thoughts and my dreams: We are the world worth saving. Seriously. Today it appears I am going to take responsibility for these words. Even though I notice a younger version of me is afraid someone will disagree, today's version of myself is interested in a conversation, many conversations.

We are the world worth saving.

We as in: all.

We as in: you and me and all.

We as in: you, me, them, river, ocean, rose, tree, mouse, elephant, mountain, and all.

I notice when I'm in despair about the world, I forget we are a we.

"What can I do to help?" I think or "How can I not think about this anymore?"

I also forget all of life is founded on basic goodness. I notice my caught-up-ness with the details of the unfolding events. Scrolling increases. Wandering around with my mind buzzing. I begin to internalize feelings of division and hopelessness.

"I can't do anything to change this situation."

Loneliness shows up.

Oh, my. The stories I can imagine about how bad it can all get, how bad it has been.

Bad. Bad. Bad.

Then, the ember of worthiness glows deep within me and, eventually, I feel warmth. I notice my heart and mind opening. I let in pain and suffering. I breathe out calm and good wishes. I learned this practice as Tonglen. (meaning: giving and receiving)

I notice an emotion takes about 90 seconds to run all through the body.

Dislodging a stuck emotion, the remainder of a division of some sort, can take years and years. Little bits of relief, letting pain in from a traumatic memory and breathing out calm, matters. Breathing in others' pain and breathing out calm can become almost like a muscle memory.

Sometimes we go a lifetime with an obstacle inside us we never identify, we grow crankier and crankier, we avoid certain topics of conversation or people or situations we don't like. We don't want to be triggered by anything, anywhere. I spent a lot of time avoiding triggers.

My experience is: building capacity in the inner experience needs space. Spaciousness is a physical situation- an open heart is more spacious than a clenched heart, the gut can feel tight or relaxed and spacious, the mind can be obsessively thinking or we might notice the gap/the space between thoughts. Often, we need time and tools to develop space. Letting go of stories (which take up a ton of space) can be a challenge.

So...why engage in all of this work? Why go canoeing when we can sit on a beach and have the drinks brought to us? Why work through stuck emotions? Why willingly experience pain? Watching the Olympics, I wonder if the athletes push themselves physically because the arena of physically-meeting-an-edge is where they want to play.

The arena I want to play in? Peace.

Peace is the physical, mental, emotional and spiritual arena of our times.

I just wrote that. Is it true? I don't know.

I was born in 1966 (my birthday is 18 days from now!) and I've read: babies born in this year share an experience of wanting peace. The Vietnam War was on. Star Trek debuted on television in September. The pull of peace was in the air, the cosmos. My direct experience tells me peace means being open to the uncertainty of life, of things falling apart. It's responding with clarity and compassion, sitting with fear and anger and joy and love simultaneously, holding space for whatever arises, and not fearing or grasping the outcome. Peace.

Peace is my experience of the We. It's my sandbox. It's how I'm playing with life. My three invitations are to ask you to join me in this big peace experiment where Deep Listening, Deep Play and Deep Trust work through us.

Peace is possible.

Peace begins in one expression of being.

We are the expression.

We are the world worth saving.

My pathway.

If you know me, you probably know I'm a writer with a love of all words (especially yours!) and a woman who has restarted her life more than once.

You likely know me as a curious and playful person. Perhaps, too, as serious about what it means to care about another, open-hearted and open-minded, willing to learn, persistent, a lover of cake and cookie, and in the last ten years especially, a human with a beautiful relationship with our natural world.

As I near my 58th birthday, I can point to a few choices I made over the last 10 years which have brought me to this moment. I share them with you for context, perhaps for my own clarity to see how I got here today, to write this newsletter and send it out:

I didn't know how to live the life I was living anymore. I applied and accepted the invitation for a canoe trip with Outward Bound Canada, specially designed for women who'd experienced violence in their lives. On a solo-night on a tiny island in Desolation Sound, I wrote myself a letter. My wilderness coaches mailed it to me six months later. I wrote to myself, You will be in healthy relationships and canoeing will be part of your life from now on.
I learned to hike and camp alone and to love it.
I met extraordinary humans at pivotal points who helped me cultivate positivity and clarity.
I quit a job I loved in arts management. Despair lived inside me for many months.
One of my children told me they didn't want to talk to me anymore because I didn't listen. I trained myself to listen, fully. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.
Two granddaughters came into my life. I wanted to show up for them even when I didn't think I could.
I started and completed an MFA in Creative Writing.
I spent two weeks with the Indigenous Leadership group at the Banff Centre for the Arts- one program on Right Relationship, the other on the ways of Indigenous Leadership.
I took over 58 courses/workshops on-line and in-person on topics from baking to writing to becoming a Bodhisattva (a warrior for the human spirit) with Margaret Wheatley
I dreamed of buying a house near nature with my daughter and son-in-law so the grandchildren could play outside. We bought one.
I canoed lakes and rivers in long journeys with my steady and skilled canoe partner, Tom, who was forced to change his life after a physical disability at age 28. He holds a phd in Peace Studies. The word peace really excites me. haha.
I experienced so much fear I put us in danger on a canoe trip. Joy Harjo's poem, Fear, I Give you Back, has helped me let go of my grip on fear.
I've written hundreds of pages of a novel I do not want to end. I love the characters. I love the horror story they're navigating. I love the place where they live- Ghost River Wilderness. The genre: Mountain Gothic.
I've published short stories and essay pieces and worked on a wonderful novel.
I nurture nests of writers who are brilliant and compassionate.
Writing nests have led to the development of deep noticing as a key part of nurturing a peaceful life.
I'm in collaboration with some wonder-humans. I look forward to all of you meeting one day.
I'm letting go of story after story, even the ones who have been the catalyst for my biggest insecurities and my biggest successes. The stories all seem to have a pleasantness about them as they drift away, even the worst of them, a bundle of memories about what I learned then.
I notice I'm carrying the peace I've been seeking.

My Invitations.

I've been in retreat for the past several weeks. My retreat space: one-on-one relationships with family and friends, strangers who become friends, with dog Athena, with water, with plant after plant after plant. I've been asking big questions about the narrative I weave in my head of the world I've Iived in and the world I'm living in now, at this moment.

Now, I'm metaphorically paddling the canoe in the middle of the river and I don't know what's up ahead. I know what I have in the canoe. I know what I sense around me. I am keen.

If you've read this far, thank you- again!- my inbox is full of wonderful newsletters I read or don't depending on the day. As I mentioned, I love learning experiences. I love experimenting. I am keen to experiment and play with anyone who is curious about what I'm putting together...

Here are my invitations:

Cabin Falls 2024: Retreat and Write

Six days and five nights in one-of-kind luxury and people

Increase Spaciousness in your life.
Experience doing one thing at a time.
Engage in deep noticing; build your muscle memory for accessing presence in each moment.
Will my wellness last? Is this enough of a beginning? Is it possible? Of course it is.
Research shows 72 hours in nature leads to wellness. Sweden is trying this, too!
It is possible to experience life in many different ways. It is possible to spend six days and five nights in one of the most incredible places on earth. Imagine the energy of water falling. Imagine the moon gathering us in her fullness. (full moon alert!)
Writing and sharing is always by invitation to express whatever arises. Writers are often surprised with the goodness they find showing up.
So much can be seen when you're guided by the stewards of the land, when you're playing with deep noticing practices.
Yes, it's worth the cost. Yes, it's worth the time and the travel to arrive.

The official invitation is attached to this email. You can also find more information on my website. Here.

Writing Nests, Fall 2024
Early Registration for Writing Nests begins on August 4.

Some details:

Limited to six writers per nest.
We begin in October.
Weekday mornings, afternoons and evenings will be available.
Scheduled for 1.5 hours with a five minute break partway through.
You can curate your own writing nest with friends/family.
Sliding fee scale always available
Format: meet the screen with ease, engage with a playful invitation to notice, take action: move, listen to the inner body, write, share the present moment and presence.
Deep Listening. Deep Play. Deep Trust.

If the world is falling apart, what can you do? Clear your perspective. Become an island of sanity for all you love. We need you.

Peace Practices, Fall 2024

Early Registration for Peace Practices begins on August 4.

Some details:

Free.
Sent to your inbox on Sunday and Wednesday.
Playful invitations for expression.
A monthly zoom call.

Peace Is. Deepen Your Experience.

You can also schedule 20 minute meetings with me.

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

So much gratitude in my life today.

My apologies if you run into any issues with navigating my website. I'm doing the best I can with the energy I've been allotted in this life!