following the path you can’t see, part 2

A few months back, I wrote about the challenges of following the spiritual path, which more often than not involves long stretches of not being able to see where you’re going or why, climbing and climbing an uphill route with no idea what you’ll find when you get to the top and can finally glimpse the next leg of your journey. Sometimes when you get to the top, you’re no more enlightened: you may find yourself standing at the top of the hill looking down at a fog-filled valley, unyielding and inscrutable.

The curve balls (lessons?) along the way can be jarring and disorienting, making it hard to keep one’s footing and stay on the path—especially the big ones, like divorce or the loss of a job, the ones that really turn your life on its ear and make you wonder, How the hell am I going to get through this, and what is my life going to look like when I do? Continue reading

thanks giving

Tomorrow I head a couple of hours east to spend Thanksgiving with my family. We will eat too much, and though there have been sad and somber transitions in our family in the past year, we are sure to laugh a lot, and we will be glad to have this time with each other.

It has been an emotional year for me, with lots of changes, lots of soul-searching, lots of digging deep to find faith in the face of scary stuff, and then going back to dig even deeper when more was needed. Yet in the midst of all this, there has been a sweetness, a warmth. I have made new friendships and renewed and deepened old ones, and I have extended my roots into and felt myself surrounded and nurtured by my community, both “real” and virtual. I have felt embraced, even in my most difficult moments, knowing on some level that I am somehow being held by this web of people near and far.

Thank you, dear readers, for being a part of my web. You have honored me by choosing to “follow” me as I make my way, sometimes haltingly, through this maze that is my life. I am glad for your companionship, and I am grateful for your time and attention, your insights and your encouragement. I look forward to sharing the next part of the journey with you. Namaste.



excerpt du jour ~the white-robed monk

Sitting in stillness
At the depth of stillness,
Something stirs in me.
It draws me
Out of my stillness.
It stirs in me
And draws me on
To explore what I know not.
I rouse myself and follow it.
I go with it
Not knowing where. Continue reading

march 31, 1992

Keep me from me!

I do not want to hear
the cries of my heart,
the wails of despair,
the longing for communion,
the echoes of loneliness.

Remove me,
stand me away
from this self,
this seeker
who knows not
that for which she searches
but is compelled
to continue the quest.

in isolation,
in ignorance,
I am at ease.
I am content.
I exist.
I die.

pathwriter’s note: I found this and several other poems I’d written in a notebook a while back. I don’t remember what it was that prompted the writing of it all those years ago, but it expresses so well the part of me in the present that has, at times, wanted to ditch the as-yet-unidentified “calling” I’ve felt these last few years, to turn away from that which has drawn me repeatedly into unknown territories, both internal and external.  However, I know (as I evidently knew then, too) that if I turn my back on the part of me that is the seeker, I will be turning my back on the deepest, truest part of me, and if I do this, it is my soul that will die.

quote du jour ~strayed – i’ve come to understand…

I’ve come to understand that this is typical of any sort of spiritual journey: You don’t get what you expect. You get what you didn’t expect, and you deal with it.

~Cheryl Strayed, author of Wild (Oprah Magazine interview, April 2012)