Friday, June 15, 2012

i begin (inner excavations)

I am following a read-along of Liz Lamoreux's book Inner Excavation which she is hosting for free over on her blog for the next 6 weeks. (The read-along lasts a total of 7 weeks - one week for each chapter - there is still plenty of time to catch up and join in!) It dawns on me that I am a rather social hermit; while I require oodles of quiet time to myself, I also need social interaction and connection to help me clarify the inklings that arise from my creative navel-gazing. Ideas shared in community tend to flesh out, have more weight and meaning when exposed to the light of other's eyes and minds.  

So here I am, sitting in the middle of what Liz calls the dig site that is my life, shifting through feelings, memories, aspirations, dreams and fears that for too long lay buried and lost.  I've been doing this work for some time now, but the timing of Liz's inner excavate-along coincides with my own sense of staging a more conscious effort to seek clarity within my life and my actions. 

This first week I decided to incorporate the prompts from chapter one into ongoing projects - my mini sketchbook and book of days and this blog - rather than start a separate new journal (and yes, I had a moment of mouth-frothing anticipation as I contemplated a new journal to be justified; in the end, I've let practicality - and my intention of clarity - win out as I just cannot add another project onto the pile. Rather, I see this process as augmenting practices already in place.)

Chapter one is entitled "I begin" and I've carried that phrase with me throughout my week. FIttingly, this week I began - yet again - my morning meditation practice.  Like a mantra, the phrase "now I begin ... " has gently informed the photographs I've taken, journal play and lots of writing.  

I begin

Eyes closed
breathe out, breathe in
start again -
the gunk of an unruly mind
pooling away like retreating snails,
leaving an iridescent slime trail in the morning light of this meditation

the thoughts that dog me
whether I am awake or  asleep,
eclipsing possibility of clarity

but I begin again
always hope filled,
chasing away hungry crocodiles
with each breath
“now is the moment that matters”

now is the place where
the magical is visible,
where the seeds of dreams
can begin their germination
within the  tranquil pool
of this spacious breath

always I return
to this place of beginning,
for it offers me possibility and forgiveness,
a mona lisa smile,
an endless moment holding me
and all my contradictions
in a welcoming embrace.

Beginnings feed hope.  Last night in an anxious dream I said "To have all the answers would leave no room for Hope."  I'm not sure what that means, but it feels important.  As someone who wants to understand everything, perhaps my subconscious is reminding me to allow room for mystery and uncertainty; that the unknown holds much magic, and that the unexpected is a place where I can be comfortable and grow beyond my boundaries. 

So here I am, ready to begin again.  But choosing to walk slowly, resisting my impulse to rush forward.  I don't want to miss any of the magic.



  1. I love the phrase from your dream "to have all the answers would leave no room for hope." It soun like permission to let go of the need to take on a lot or fix things. Of course that's what it would mean for me, not necessarily you :)

    I am taking this journey too.

  2. that phrase is amazing
    such a gift
    as humans we seem to have this need to know all...but truth is, spiritually, if we knew all the wonderment, the mystery, the 'beyond" would not be able to touch us the same
    I am with is like permission to let go....
    thank you for sharing that piece of wisdom and insight

    love and light

  3. What a beautiful poem. I too want to "begin again". Love how you use that to propel you through all you want to do.

  4. "To have all the answers would leave no room for Hope." This is exactly what the Universe has been trying to tell me as I deconstruct/reconstruct my faith. I thought at one time I had THE RIGHT answers and that it was my job to get as many people as possible to understand those answers as I did. As I am becoming Myself--the lack (and loss) of answers makes me feel uncertain on wobbly legs--but absolutely filled with HOPE. I love your blog--I found you through the Inner Excavation read along.

  5. Wow! I, too, love the message "To have all the answers would leave no room for Hope." Powerful words!