Rites

It dawned on me that if I wanted to change my life, I would, or would have by now, if I were deeply dissatisfied with it.

I must not be.
I have nothing to run from. I AM the power of “staying with.” Even as the wind comes up.
My family is here. Three generations. We are healthy in our own right, and with each other.
I have work. I contribute to my community.
I have a home of eighteen years.
I walk every morning in the open spaces with my dogs.
I witness my son’s life daily.
 
Are there longings? Absolutely.
But, also, this is beauty.
 
This moment of being.
Of stopping.
Of no conflict.
Of dog toes and human toes in their right places.
Resting.
Breathing.
At peace.
 
For those who ask what my path has been with rites of passage, this is it:
A whole human being.
It is not a job. It is not for profit. It is not even a calling.
It is only and ever about becoming fully human.
And once that is known, it is lived. Differently for each.
Simple.
Not simple.
 
This isn’t to say that I have arrived.
Or that anyone does, ever, permanently.
(Ask me about partnership and intimacy. Ask me about self-love and forgiveness. Ask me about fear.)
The wheel keeps on turning, season upon season, as one is ready
or not.
 
Love you!
 

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