Published August 4, 2016 by

Many lovely things happened today, as every day.

But today something stood out. Oh, well a few things.

I ventured out today to grab some sparkling water at the local gas station. I needed a break from writing and I like to sip this treat while relaxing in the woods.

As I was standing in line, a young man of about 17 got in line behind me.  I had seen him as I walked in and he was wearing a hoodie with a baseball hat and he had a number of tattoos and piercings.

I was being silly as usual, tapping my debit card on the counter in time to whatever song I was singing under my breath as we waited in line. This caused it to fly out of my hand where it landed right at my feet. And then, in strange, synchronistic slow motion, it skidded away until it stopped perfectly in front of the young man’s boot.

He instantly bent to pick it up and as he rose to hand it to me, we had a moment.

He had the most pure and genuinely beautiful smile as he gave it back to me. I offered mine in return. And there was just something about this interaction that felt really, really nice. We both left glowing just a little bit.

I have learned that people can love doing things for me. Little things, big things.

There are real cowboys out here who enjoy sweeping doors open for me, helping me with my groceries and other such chivalrous things.

I love it.

My heart told me to come out here.

As I sat this evening in a field twinkling with the golden rays of the setting sun through the trees and the high prairie grass blowing in the wind, I feel as though I have entered some strange portal, that I am living in a new reality.

I have been living in a new reality teeming with angels and heavenly beauty since I first moved out here, alone, almost a year ago.

I gazed out at the mountains in the near distance. An eagle soared overhead in slow circles. The clouds out here are magic, with prismatic partial rainbows, the likes of which I never would even have known existed.

What if, I wonder, I actually did die out near the frozen lake this winter where I spent so many hours alone, testing my new limits, feeling my upgraded heart swell with joy amid the contractions of residual pain?

Maybe I am now a romantic old ghost wandering, caught between heaven and earth..




Published July 31, 2016 by


“I’m sorry! We don’t have your spot tonight.”


I greeted the pretty young hostess with a puzzled look. “You remember me?”
“Of course! You come in alone…very soft always ask to sit by the fireplace.”
A half smile graced my face for a moment. I had felt so anonymous in this dimly lit place with the good, life affirming food, minutes from the hospital here in town.


But someone had been noticing me. Like the nurse who asked why I never turn the tv on. And why I spend hours gazing out the window.


Aren’t you bored?


I find it interesting the things we notice about other people.
She showed me to a table as close to the fire as was available and I sat down, ordered the usual, and wrapped my hands around a cup of peppermint tea to wait.
I like to sit facing everyone else. The tables near the fireplace are elevated and I can sort of see their faces in the dark and catch bits of their conversations.
I close my eyes for a moment. I grin. I bite my lip to contain my excitement.
Haha! Again. I’ve done it again. Danced out of the grip of death. It’s almost funny to me at this point.
When will you get the hint? You can’t have me yet! Our time will come, but please, I ask, be patient.


Every connection you make while wearing a hospital gown is ripe with meaning.
The elderly vietnamese nurse who asked “Only broth and juice?”. I smiled.
“Don’t want to get too…” I patted my tummy. We laughed and she did a little jig.
The custodial woman from Fiji who always greeted me shyly. I could tell she wanted to talk to me about something.
When I ditched the hospital gown, gently made up my face and walked confidently, slowly down the hall, that same hall, yet again, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped.
“You don’t look sick!”
Yes. I am good at that.
“Ah, they got tired of me. Said I could go home.”
I smiled. She grabbed my hand and held it for a moment.
“You remind me of my daughter back home”.
I am no one’s daughter, I think.
We smile at each other for a few more moments and then I step into the elevator.
It is raining outside. This excites me. Any intrusion of inescapable nature in the city excites me.
I turn my face to the sky. And think about how awesome that fireplace will feel.



Published July 10, 2016 by

“Oh don’t worry, he’s friendly!”

Well then… why is he looking at my leg like it’s a drumstick?

Ran into people on the descent last night. Didn’t realize till I got home that I had mascara rings around my eyes. And it strikes me as funny that I would wear mascara for a solo hike but I suppose if anyone would do that, it would be me.

I usually find something to cry about once I reach a mountaintop.

Yesterday, it was that a calm loving presence came over me and I heard the words

Your heart got you here.


Inspiration Life

Published June 29, 2016 by


Published June 24, 2016 by

One must be numb to survive the city.

The noise, the crowds, the billboards the constant sensory over-stimulation.

But people are mammals. And cities are a thing that people make, like beavers make dams. Cities are an organic thing in their own right. I tried to sense into the city the way I do in the woods and without judgement.

It had a different flavor when I did that. But it was still too much. I swear I can feel the wifi and cell signals slicing though me all over like laser beams.

I played with that.

What if that is not a bad thing? Really, how does it feel, this thing that people have made that has enhanced our lives? What kind of experience is that?

Returning home rituals:

remove pants

open all windows

burn incense


feel grateful

Instead of magpies like the city, I have trembling aspens outside one of my windows. They fill the house with the sound of waves day and night as the wind sighs through them. The air circulating in here is the kind that people are now willing to pay for. I live in it. My luxuries are infinite. How has such grace entered my life?

Quietly, I would say.


Inspiration Life

Published June 15, 2016 by






Published June 12, 2016 by

Wow.. recently realized how much I miss writing here.

So much has changed.

Everything has changed.

I suppose that is what happens when you move to one of the most windy, wild and magical places in the Rocky mountains, dig your nails into the soil, have the sun warm your eyelids and let the wind tousle your hair and flirt with the hem of your dress.

Change happens when you face death with quiet acceptance, curiosity and gentleness knowing that if you are meant to live then nothing can take you.


That was when everything lined up for me. Everyone showed up for me.

My life was the best it had ever been even though I was in hospital surrounded by frantic doctors and nurses, writing wills and reviewing my life a lot over the past year.

How are you so calm? I’d just smile.

Do you have any family to notify? No.

I am in the second phase of the upgrade I took on about 7 months ago.

My body has been upgraded emotionally and spiritually, now is the time to strengthen it physically. And all manners of the perfect teachers and inspirations in this regard keep finding their way into my life.

That is the final frontier for me, the one challenge that I have wrestled with since childhood. The health and strength of my body.

I abandoned it, unable to face the pain alone. I retreated into books and creating, which in it’s own way served me greatly. Now, I am accepting support and inspiration for me to get back into my body. To be strong in my creaturehood as a mammal on this earth in the prime of her life.

I watch the deer and the elk out here almost daily and their easy beauty and grace is something I never tire of. They just eat grass! And drink rainwater. They stick together, always eyeing me suspiciously.

I seek to touch that level of purity in just being a beast and a creature as far as my physicality is concerned. My prefrontal cortex can just take a back seat now.

I have so much to do.