I love to participate in creating life that is not caught in a box but unfolds in harmony with my body and heart, with the earth, with the cosmos. My desire is to feel the Divine unfolding in any moment, any detail of my daily life, in any movement of my body.

I feel that the very tissue of life is made of what withdraws to the background when I am too busy with plans and projects. Using strategies, I am busy sculpting my own abandonment and disempowerment. So the foremost work for me is to see the functioning of my mind and let go of all plans, again and again. To welcome and rejoice what wants to be felt: the light spreading between the curtains in the morning, the warmth under the blanket, the singing of the birds, the arm of my beloved. Water pouring over my hands, an apple and a knife, a sip of hot tea.

I longed to live a life immersed into the essence of being as long as I can remember. Yet, being anxious not to be “enough”, to not belong, to not survive, feeling deeply disempowered, I was running after recognition and security. Being constantly exhausted, but not realizing that I miss the basic empowerment that comes from being part of the wonderful tissue of life, being nurtured by it and guided by it. Later, I began to discover that in the “small things”, in what is most intimate and mundane, there is an opening to the greatness of being, to a cosmic belonging.

Always have I been seeking for God, but for a long time God remained a distant, severe entity. It took time for me to discover God on earth – in my body, in nature, in others. Now my greatest desire is to touch Her in anything. To hear Her voice in the subtle sounds, to see Her light in the tiny things.

And in this touch of the Divine, there is no “my”: there is only love, birthing and undoing me as an interconnected whole. Writing, teaching dance to children, growing vegetables and fruit, keeping goats, chicken, bees and cats, collecting herbs and communicating with the trees in the forests, cooking, meditating, cleaning the bathroom, engaging in the fragile game of caring for and letting go of my teenage daughters, being in the heart with my husband and lover, sharing stories with friends – all this is not a project, it is not a plan. It comes forth out of being faithful to the breath and the heartbeat which takes me to depths, places and actions which are miraculous. Joyful, and also so intimate, so nearby. And vulnerable, naked, frightful. These blogs and poems are songs and stories of the beauty and pain of life as it plays me.