The Long Winter

The long winter… I wanted to earn money for another bike (an older Harley) and I have saved some but not all of it. I’m looking forward to next week when I am home once again without the prison of my own making…IMG_5015

One of my favorite pastimes is spiritual growth and development, deep reflecting, meditation, envisioning what connection to collective unconscious looks and feels like, and what about synchronicities? Imagining that these things are life’s conversations with the divine.

It’s like going to school; you learn and experience in class those things you study but the actualization of what you learn happens out amidst the environment of your practiced field. My field is that nomadic adventure, practicing those things that my imaginings have informed me of what is spiritual truth to me.

Did I learn to listen more and talk less? Did I learn to allow myself to be exactly where I am and not move to fix, change, or buffer that? Did I fall in love with myself more and in so doing fall in love with all other humanity? Did I face adversity with grace and ease and if not do I regret or make myself less for it?


In the busiest moments of working, “trying” to earn that money for this new bike that I want. I lost for a moment the preciousness of my imagined conversations with Divinity. I was back in my own rat race, thinking (imagining really) that if I want this thing I have to work really hard, deny myself and play this game, which seemed to be the very thing that was blocking the flow and it felt like utter darkness in which my bike was hit twice and broken into as well and all within a month’s time. I played this game until I was emotionally broke, nothing more to spend. Then, with some gentle nudging through friends and acquaintances, I was reminded that this is not my path, nor was it theirs.


You see my truth lives in that world of imagination, that the Unseen forces will meet me and supply what I need for “the journey of spirit” (as Scotty so well puts it). This annihilation of soul in exchange for the collective imaginings that money is somehow the pursuit of all pursuits and needs to be in the forefront of everything else was the driving force of my misery, and winter of dark.

Once I gave that up, money began to flow. I accepted that maybe I wouldn’t get enough for the bike this time around, but I could get some now, later and build upon it without engaging in the dream of the planets monetary systems. And divine imagining returned, my soul rested, my mind created, my spirit given permission to live by imagination.


This, of course doesn’t mean to completely remove myself from the current expression of our collective reality, it just means to spend more time in pursuit of what matters to me, what feeds my particular journey. The long ride, the tent in the wild, the conversations with other beings (human and otherwise, I like to converse with nature) along the way, the kind listening of others’ stories and the telling of my own.

As a Holistic Health Practitioner and ordained minister my desire to walk in the space of healing, to be ready and available to meet that responsibility as I go is my challenge and hope. That I will meet the people that forward my personal goals as they apply to the collective awakening to love, that I will recognize the moment of synchronicity and follow these signs, that I will live in the threshold between this world and the unseen world that most of us have a feeling exists. That my path will lead me exactly where it needs to produce exactly what I need in my contribution to earth and others…


The balance between the material and unseen usually tips towards the material, the needing to engage somewhat in the current monetary system, fitting in, that human requirement to be accepted and a part of, the loneliness of heart when standing alone facing what is in the shadows, not knowing the outcome. The natural desire to share oneself fully and deeply with others; intimately, honestly, authentically, transparently, emotionally, and spiritually often illuminating its own necessity, and thus being interpreted by my ego as impossible to actualize with a haunting deficiency, my constant companion.


Putting this out in words is my susceptibility, it gives access to others who may judge where I fall short or even for holding these ideals, my total and absolute hippified weirdness, the differences, and the position that I don’t fit along the same lines of belief as others who may be quite attached to the impression that they hold the truth and it isn’t in line with my own. So here it is, my transparent dreams on a platter, served hot from the oven of my imagination, the main course of my nomadic purposing, spiced with my own experience, some may hate the flavor, some may crave the taste, but it is out on the table and open for discussion over its ingestion.




Spotlight Student piece

I was recently asked to be the quarterly spotlight student at my alma mater, I really like the way it came out so I am posting it here, besides I really do love the school I went to and this is an incredible honor for me, a gypsy nomad hobo type.

I converted the pages of my little contribution into images and here they are. If unreadable the link to the school newsletter is here: IPSB Newsletter Piece



The Validity of Everything


The warmth of the summer breeze was an invitation to bliss as my dog, Two-Lane and I rode out of South Carolina after my daughter’s tender wedding. Filled with the love of having all my children in one place and spending these precious moments with them the invitation needed little encouragement.


Solo riding is the time of internal reflection, slowing to my own pace, and marveling at the precious moments of connection with others. For the most part I just chatted with people here and there, listened to their dreams and stories of travels, as the sight of a dog on the tank of a packed up motorcycle often sparks a memory or dream in another. This richness is beyond what any disbursement of greenbacks has ever offered.

Healing Touch Massage Therapy

After a 2-year hiatus in San Diego, CA for an exercise in holistic expansion, I’m back at home on the road, every night looking for a safe place to sleep. The fearful tension soon melting into gratitude for each sanctified piece of ground granted to a woman and her dog living on the highways of the Church of the Free Spirit.

And I exhale…

On the road again, where I told myself while in school that I would put forth the effort to see how to incorporate massage as a viable means to support myself. This is it… I had worked for vendors at a couple of Rallies already and made enough to get by, but that isn’t what I was looking for. My dream is to make massage my ministry and travel in faith living off the donations of those who receive this healing touch my teachers so beautifully demonstrated to me. This is the passion and call that feeds me, and this is what I will do.


It gets scary; the questioning that maybe my dreams are not feasible, especially when reality presents itself with the challenges of the world’s perception of massage therapy.


Massage therapist are an educated bunch, requiring national/state exams. Our education includes anatomy, physiology as well as an understanding of pathologies and how they are addressed. I understand how the muscle attaches to the skeleton and ways to possibly release pain or tension associated with this. We are not “happy ending” specialists, or “rub down” techs. Personally I have over 1,100 hours of training with experience on over 100 bodies. This is what I face, am I complaining about something I cannot change? Maybe, but I think part of my path is to educate people on the benefits of healing touch…


And I am still in school in a sense but now I learn how to create enough trust in a short time, quickly educating people about the healing benefits of what I refer to as body-work, create a working relationship so people can experience this alternative option to healing from the current system, and even to a deeper experience of body/mind/spirit.


And sometimes it has worked and sometimes I walk in financial insecurity. But it is all still a part of actualizing my dreams. Expanding my horizons, listening to the wise ones who offer solution, service, and advice. Of staying true to my purpose, that this is by donation, that this is gift, that this is spirit, that this has heart and meaning thus it must thrive within my small world. And even in the face of fear of poverty, the heart wins, the person who can’t pay gets as much of my attention as the one that pays much, this must stay true.


And the people who cross my path, who touch my soul, who contribute to me in ways beyond measure. These are the people who believe in my dream for me and lend a moment, a word, a referral, an offering; these are the people who keep me on the path of my dreams. The only reason I can continue through it all.










And this reality… I am in San Diego for the winter getting ready to go to work at a massage spa so I can earn enough money to further grant my heart her dreams. And this too is valid for it will afford me my second adventure into my dream of holistic healing. On my packed up motorcycle with a dog on the tank, come springtime when I again; with this past year’s lessons, expand my horizons and get closer to the realization of my chosen life path.

This Created Life

IMG_4246The sourcing of my soul this morning arose in the sound of a perceptually passionate pheasant, cackling, and crying in the field near by; reminding me that I would not have witnessed this primal display of nature if it weren’t for today, this day, this campsite in Montana.

Wandering and wondering around this great state for the past month sometimes seemingly aimless, but not really for how is life ever aimless? IMG_4060Even in the moments of silence, boredom, loneliness, and feeling lost remain the highway signs and supportive whispers that escort us back to the awareness of our current state of consciousness. And where else is there?

After a solid two-year hiatus from nomadic road life completing a dream of holistic health education, the road called. I left in February wondering if this was really what I wanted, the doubling of fear, how to make it all work with this new education of which I invested so much focus, energy, and dreams. When would the release from the long months of studious single-mindedness come, how would it come, am I crazy? Questioning the reality that I choose, the one that calls to me beyond the habitual thinking of my domestication, my youth, my culture…

IMG_4238Waking in the wilderness, sleeping under the stars, riding where the heart leads, not knowing the future, not knowing quite how to make money as a healer on the road…

And I do not lack for food, I am clothed, I am moving, I am finding those who symbiotically desire what I offer. And I am phenomenally fed emotionally, physically, financially, and spiritually in this miraculous process of faith.

Practicing “yes”. Yes I will listen, yes I will speak, yes I will stop, yes I will go forward, yes I will accept your contribution, yes I will give of my own, yes I will write, yes I will allow art to express itself through me. YES, I will live!


Life emanates richness. I can’t find all the words to talk about the great people I’ve met and places I’ve camped and the soft voices of the land. Those words will come later; this story is about a moment in solitude that delivered a deeply silent message.

I had a visitor one night…

Since Two-lane is the one with the keener senses – we have an agreement to honor his alarms. So his growling brought me back from a rather deep sleep awakened with a questioning, “What is it?” Trying to see through the silhouette of shadows on the tent wall, “what is it?” as Two-lane increases his intensity… Looking out the screened door I am looking into the face of what I think is a wolf, it came to see me, not aggressively or fearfully, it was just there and as Two-Lane attacked it from inside the tent (which means lunging with a vicious growl into the tent side) it turned and trotted away. I spent the next day questioning what I saw. But whether this was wolf, bear, or dream doesn’t matter to me. It sent a message, which can illuminate this present moment of awareness. In the questioning itself reveals a message that insinuates a distrusting of my own perceptions and intuitive impressions.

IMG_3987I don’t know how much I dreamed or whether it was young bear or old wolf as I was told that a young bear was seen within yards of the spot I stayed (and yes wolves do live close by), what I do know is that I felt merged with the land and the ride grew ever more connected. This was experienced, and this I must trust.

What comes next is not my concern, I don’t know the future but by continuing to ride forward on this road and keep open to this experience called life then I am living creatively. When I dull my senses with ideas, expectations, remembrances of past joys and future fears then the experience is a different one (not wrong just different). Life is, as we know, an experiential journey and this is all there is of it. All journey is valid, all encounters are as brilliant as I perceive them to be. Whether it is doing laundry at a Laundromat in the middle of the desert heat feeling miserable, laughing at a goofy dog traveler, opening my heart to the land and others, escaping the rain and hail, feeling lost, empty, and honestly allowing emotion… no matter what it is, this is my life, my created life and I am in love with it.

A feminine musing of trees

I don’t look up enough; I look on my own level as if I am already at my highest elevation.

I don’t look up enough, because if I did I would witness the dance of the wind in the trees, swaying within her own boundaries, how much she will give, and allow, within her own strength.

…I don’t look up enough


I don’t look deep enough, I look down at the surface of the ground in hopes of finding a shiny treasure, and sometimes to avoid looking at what is right in front of me.

I don’t look deep enough, because if I did I would dig my roots deeply into what nourishes me so that when the frantic winds come in I am strong enough to stand.

…I don’t look deep enough.

IMG_4325I don’t look true enough, I come along and manicure the harsh edges of my broken branches snapped off in the gale force winds of my travail. I say it prevents the rot from moving in from the outside and gives the tree back her beauty.

I don’t look true enough because if I did I would see that deeply rooted tree sends powerful healing sap up to that broken branch – healing from deep within the spirit and health of the tree.

…I don’t look true enough.


I don’t look wise enough, otherwise as I look up I would see the miraculous beauty of the tree rooted deeply against the harshest of winds, broken branch and all, dancing in the breeze unafraid…

photoIt had been over two years since I stopped in San Diego, unpacked my motorcycle in hiatus and possibly permanent departure of life on the road. Two years of an education that came with unexpected intense interpersonal growth, integration of body/mind/soul and the sense of becoming. Two years of school to answer a deeper purpose. Two years of relationship building, shadow walking, and spiritual expansion. And now it was time to leave. Time to give up the sense of security I had found in living in my own RV, great new friends and acquaintances; as well as old friends and family I spent time with while in San Diego. This is where I grew up, my origin and pulling up roots again was something I felt I still had to do. Simultaneously wondering if that was my heart speaking or some other influence that may ultimately take me farther away from myself. It’s all part of the journey though, right?

3K73N63Hb5N15E15Hcd4621ef64e68a951738I accepted a job in my new field the last few weeks in San Diego to initially finance my return to nomadicism and I loved the work. It was rewarding, healing, altruistic, spiritual, just a beautiful expression of my chosen path. I questioned my leaving, I contemplated the stable security of my own practice, I struggled over this drive to leave. After all this was home, this was supported, this was comfortable, this was safe.

Selling my RV, moving back onto a bike, reducing the load, giving up the comforts and conveniences, saying goodbye, completing school, unknowing the way in front of me and how to live this newness, this ideal, this vulnerability – wide open to the elements of possibly being misunderstood, needing to fit in, the loneliness potential, while empathetically experiencing the stuckness of a culture imprisoned by our own perceived limitations. I was more awake, more open to the connectedness of us all, feeling not only my own insecurities of embarking into yet another paradigm shift, but also glimpsing into those same fears in the people around me. How would I now progress through this land with this new vision and an open heart now beating on the sleeve of my leather jacket?

IMG_2937The first few days out, I was looking for the relief I used to experience when I would get back on the road after a long stay someplace. Looking for that euphoric peace of the known freedom and anticipated liveliness of the great unknown that lay ahead, sleeping under an open sky, waking up with the sun, alone with only my own thoughts to deal with. I waited and was a little disapointed when it didn’t happen. Something was different, and I am not sure what that is. I rode hard some days and soft on others, but this underlying feeling of “getting to my destination” was prevalent and an attitude I didn’t have too much of in the past. When life is lived in this state of wandering the journey truly is what matters, but something had shifted, now I was like on vacation to my destination. The insecurity was extreme; the strangling need to feel differently haunted me. I kept on; still questioning “is this really what I want to do?”

Riding through Texas is magnificent; it starts in the west and ends in the east, from high desert to swampland. When you’re finally through it there is a feeling that something great has been accomplished. By the time I was half way through the weather began to warm up. Texas is 268,820 square miles of camping potential except that most of it is fenced; incidentally, finding camping can be a challenge. Thank the road gods for cow grids and open gates, although I will warn you, snotty bull encounters are quite possible.

IMG_2931Leaving my bike on an open-gated-dirt-road I went off looking for the place within its fenced confines to pitch my tent – a private spot that I could relax and call home for the night, one easy enough to maneuver on my packed motorcycle. Spot found, I returned to my bike only to find a king size bull making some horrendous sounds that I initially thought was a cow suffering (possibly dying) through childbirth. I have seen videos on Facebook of bulls mounting motorcycles so I was a little leery of trying to get on my bike and ride out. I carefully walked toward the cow grid on the road, wondering how this was going to play out. The bull followed me, slowly but steadily drooling of snot and saliva (not sure how cows find this attractive, but I lay no claim to understanding of what goes on in the minds of the bovine family). I didn’t know what this meant, was this an old horny bull gonna try and mount anything new that comes along or what? I got to the other side of the grate and the bull made its way just beyond the fence next to me. I could tell by the way he moIMG_2934ved that he would be too slow to catch me if I head back to the bike, so I casually walked back, kickstand up and I’m outta here. More bulls were showing up, staying there was not high on my list of hoped for adventures; besides the fearless Two-Lane may get himself in trouble. On we went hoping to find another open gate, which we did, this time it was a sheepish community of bleating hearts, feeling related, I chose this one for the night.

IMG_2924And the breath of my spirit exhaled a bit from this successful revealing of the unknown’s outcome. And still no euphoria, head busy with judgment, insecurity, questioning, and the desire to escape my current state of mind. But, this momentary egoic amnesty, this twinkling glimmer of light within, revealed a spark that was yet to be reignited. I could clearly understand that my need to “be in the moment” was obscuring my ability to do so. This thing I was looking for would never be found, in its very nature it could only be looked for. And though the understanding came, the attainment was yet to be actualized. I settled more into the saddle, a bit more open, destination driven…

Louisiana offered promise the current path taken to be an honest expression of soul. Spiritual conversation and a subtle contribution to another woman feeling her own sense of defeat, needing inspiration to move forward for whatever her heart called to be. Drawn to my humbly packed up bike, dog on the tank I became that vessel of delivery. OK I may be on track here.

…Still experiencing this as truth was fleeting.

IMG_2837This voluntary disruption of the routine I had acclimated to was more intense than what I anticipated. Bringing into awareness some clarity of my spirit’s wisdom. I am deeply grateful for my humanity, the richness of all that is experienced, the blocks, the challenges, the joy, the freedom, the fear, the love, the loneliness, the togetherness, the separateness, the chance meetings, the setbacks… Living on this planet is an astounding opportunity for a splendid expansion of faith, of the divine, of connection, of truth. The potential of so much added consciousness to our collective body on earth in just one person’s experience of life. Yours, mine, his, hers, theirs, we all add our own spin to the spin of the planet and I wouldn’t have it any other way. Embrace life, your truth, your pitfalls and challenges with honesty. In resisting my current state of mind, I could only experience resistance. I can say that I am a free spirit, I go with the flow, I’m chill and life is one great adventure after another, and that is all true in the moments that it is. Also resistance, fear, insecurity, neediness, confusion, weakness, anger, neglect; these shadows within also make up the wholeness of my experience, and I think if integrated honestly within; my world expands far beyond the external free spirited appearance of a nomadic slave to freedom.