I’ve been a little sad that I haven’t been able to design a communication method or platform to really have an impact with all of these gorgeous visions of human life on earth that I am privileged to soak up (Paul Selig, Byron Katie, Tara Brach, Thomas Hübl, Martha Beck,Rupert Spira, Mooji,  Vedanta, Perelandra, etc). The current socio-political environment is so disorienting and maddening, I really wish I could offer the peace and potential I feel more effectively. When I try, I seem to bump into brick walls, and that’s sort of exhausting, so I’ve resigned myself to continue trying (Thomas Hübl talks a lot about the importance of taking your part in the stream – letting things flow through you as you receive them – and this makes sense to me and I want to do it, so even though at this point it feels largely fruitless, I am committed to making sure I keep a channel open) while taking a new approach to more practical matters like exchanging time and talent for money.

Today a woman came into the monastery where I volunteer. I liked her vibe. Turns out, she’s moving to Michigan very soon and I was delighted she was able to soak up some of the good vibes at Trabuco before her trip.

As she’s leaving, she tells me she was in several months ago and I gave her a poem, and she’s carried it and she and her husband have been slowing down and indeed that visit to Trabuco (which, as soon as she mentioned it I knew exactly when she came) is part of the reason they’ve decided to move back to Michigan.

And so, as I embark on this next aspect of my journey, it was nice to know that something I shared had a nice impact on someone’s life and process. Curating things so the right message meets the right person at the right time is very special, and full of grace.

Here’s the poem, which I came across via Elizabeth Gilbert, in case it might mean something again:

Clearing ~ Martha Postlewaite
Do not try to save the whole world or do anything grandiose.
Instead, create a clearing in the dense forest of your life
and wait there patiently,
until the song that is your life
falls into your own cupped hands
and you recognize and greet it.
Only then will you know how to give yourself
to this world
so worthy of rescue.