Thursday, August 28, 2014

Shedding: Accepting and Embracing the Gifts of Questions

Following my recent return after a month and a half on the road, I’m feeling grounded and settled back into a routine with life in Taos as I embrace elements of very significant and specific changes in my life. Among other things, this includes the dynamics and arrangements within personal relationships, living arrangements, creative output and public exposure, plans and expectations, and health. 

Sometimes we need to shed in order to grow, whether that comes in letting go of something, changing perceptions or expectations, or coming to completion of something. With a new cycle of the moon and the subtle yet recognizable shift of seasons towards fall, I sense clearly a necessary shedding. Acceptance of these changes brings with it greater peace to my head and heart.

It was, at first, a slightly awkward transition back to Taos over the past two days and I needed to sit with my unsettled feelings. I’m searching for answers to very specific questions within the depths of my soul, much of it having to do with my place in relationship to others, intimate and otherwise. But rather than expect an answer to be given to me, I’ve decided to embrace Rilke’s advice from Letters to a Young Poet and live the questions. So, on a gorgeous sun-soaked afternoon, I took the dogs for a walk along the Rim Road, lined with stunning canary yellow wild sunflowers, and onto trails of a section of the Taos Land Trust at the western end of Valdez. 

Along the way, I passed by an acquaintance whom I tend to see in the most random of moments, Aponi Kai, a vocalist, actress, and conservationist. While I anticipated the possibility of seeing each other given the proximity to her mother’s home, it was only in that moment that we could have. There’s been an underlying sense of archetypal symbolism in her presence in prior meetings and that detail wasn’t lost on me in that moment. Along with others, she seems to be representative of something significant for me. Departing in a car with her companion, we waved hello and smiled as we passed. 

Down into the Land Trust canyon, the dogs and I descended to the clear, chilly mountain stream waters of the Hondo. After a game of fetch (Zillah goes nuts w/o a little action), I waded barefoot overtop the river rocks and walked upstream through the water flow. 

A fallen tree spanned across the stream from shoreline to shoreline, suspended 4’ above the water. I jumped onto the tree and tested my balance and pained knee, walking back and forth across, spinning around, leaping, dipping, closing my eyes, and walking backwards. And then, I simply stood, for an extended period, listening to the steady sound of cascading water. 

The sound seeped deeply into my head and took me into a welcome state of meditation. I had been feeling uneasy and confused prior to these moments and listening to the steady flow of water beneath me felt like a cleansing solution. I released the tension in my face and brain, eased out of my controlled thought, and allowed whatever images and perceptions decided to present themselves to arise and fade away. 

Ten or fifteen minutes passed and I decided to sit, continuing in the same routine. Thoughts and images came in and faded away. I breathed and listened to the water as the dogs scurried all around, immersed in their own collective adventures. Clear, unadulterated sunlight beamed into the emerald canyon valley, bringing out the most vivid qualities of natural colors in the space. 

The thoughts and images that presented themselves seemed to have similar themes, providing an element of clarity to me. They reminded me to remain aligned with the deepest aspects of my inner truth, my heart of hearts, and to carry on in my interactions with others from this state and to trust the voice that arises from that place and to share it, for it’s intended not only to provide clarity for myself, but to empower others as well. My confusions were shifting towards becoming strengths.

Suddenly, out of nowhere, two bridled horses, one brown, one buckskin, tramped alone into the small patch of chamisa and sage pasture below the basalt cliff sides. The atmosphere briefly turned ethereal and dream-like. The horses stopped in their tracks and gazed at us, causing the dogs to cease their activities and concentrate their attention on the horses. Curious and engaged, the dogs began to bark and ran up close to the horses simply to check them out, startling them slightly. I called the dogs back in and allowed the horses enough time and distance to pass through to the other side of a large cottonwood 30 yards away.   

I kept the dogs occupied by tossing a stick downstream for them to chase. The brown horse was curious and came closer to study me. As he became more comfortable, he inched ever closer. Despite my limited time with them, I’ve always had a sense of peace and an unspoken connection with horses. This bond seemed to occur almost instantly. After a few moments gazing at each other, one of the dogs ran over towards the horse, causing him to retreat back to the other side of the cottonwood to graze. Again, I felt a sense of symbolism emanating from this encounter and it left me in a state of wonder. 

The dogs and I walked back downstream and began our ascent towards the top of the canyon. We stopped briefly at the corner of a switchback and I gazed out to the distant horizon towards San Antonio Mountain in reflection upon this brief experience and to give thanks for it. I felt a sense of strength and clarity envelope me, reminding me that while I’m enhanced by the experience of relationship, in staying true to my heart’s path, I am whole, fulfilled, and complete as an individual. 

We continued our ascent and crested back onto the Rim Road and began our return towards the house. Just past the trail head, I noticed someone walking down the opposite end of the road. They spun around and began coming towards us when I discovered a light, plastic representation of a baseball. 

In order to keep the dogs occupied on a specific side of the road, I began tossing the ball to strategic spots. I looked behind and the person walking was coming closer. It was a woman and she flashed a bright, brilliant smile. I smiled in return. I tossed the ball again and the woman, who was now just a few feet behind me, made a comment about the dogs and the proximity of the nearby cliffs. She smiled again, a comforting and knowing smile, as I did in return, recognizing that it was Julia Roberts, a day removed from her attendance at the Emmy’s. She passed on by as I returned my attention to the dogs. 

It was quite an interesting and unexpected moment to share with Julia. I laughed to myself at the seeming improbable randomness and synchronicity of that interaction, especially in light of its bookend with Aponi prior to our descent. 

The symbolic gesture of actresses appearing in my life in various, random moments over the past couple of years I recognize presently has a significant theme, tying into a profound vision I was blessed to experience on San Antonio a couple of years ago. But rather than provide clear answers, these symbolic interactions seem to fuel the questions, adding emphasis to their existence in my life. 

The excitement behind the mystery of answers to come helps me find comfort with living within the ambiguity of those questions provided now, rather than needing immediate answers. To paraphrase Rilke, if we can shed our need for control, we’ll live our way into the answers. And so I find myself in this space, returned home in a state of the unknown with changes ahead, and I'm content.


Have patience with everything unresolved in your heart 
and try to love the questions themselves 
as if they were locked rooms or books written in a very foreign language. 

Don't search for the answers, 
which could not be given to you now, 
because you would not be able to live them. 
And the point is, to live everything. 
Live the questions now. 

Perhaps then, someday far in the future, 
you will gradually, without even noticing it, 
live your way into the answer. 

Perhaps you do carry within you the possibility of creating and forming, 
as an especially blessed and pure way of living; 
train yourself for that but take whatever comes, with great trust, 
and as long as it comes out of your will, 
out of some need of your innermost self, 
then take it upon yourself, and don't hate anything.


- Rainer Maria Rilke from Letters to a Young Poet