I’m back from my travels, from going coast to coast, from relishing in the quiet coastal air of Oregon to immersing in the loud frenzy of New York City. The past two weeks have been a whirlwind ~ tranquility, creativity, and collective spirits as well as intense learning, fighting oppression, and radical research methods. I have much to integrate from these two very disparate journeys. And to be quite honest, I’m a bit discombobulated. This re-entry is feeling rocky. I need time and space…time and space to cull back the feelings, the connections, and the embodiment of my time in Oregon with The Tribe…time and space to consider the direction of my research and work.
While I’m recollecting and re-collecting the two halves of my West coast and East coast sojourns and all that they entailed and unveiled, I’ll leave you (and me) to dwell in the beautiful words of poet, David Whyte. I shared this poem at the start of The Tribe retreat and it serves as a good reminder to me as I look forward…to not get ahead of myself, to not feel pressured to have it all figured out, to start close in.Start Close In by David Whyte Start close in, don’t take the second step or the third, start with the first thing close in, the step you don’t want to take. Start with the ground you know, the pale ground beneath your feet, your own way of starting the conversation. Start with your own question, give up on other people’s questions, don’t let them smother something simple. To find another’s voice, follow your own voice, wait until that voice becomes a private ear listening to another. Start right now take a small step you can call your own don’t follow someone else’s heroics, be humble and focused, start close in, don’t mistake that other for your own. Start close in, don’t take the second step or the third, start with the first thing close in, the step you don’t want to take.