the voice of silence

This is for all women throughout all time whose bodies and hearts have been violated. October is domestic violence awareness month. A big part of violence is silence. This is voice for all the silent hurts and a plea for a new way of being in the world.

You had no right to ask from me what you didn’t have the balls to give in return.
You had no right to take my love to lick the wounds of your insecurities then discard me.
You had no right to sacrifice my beauty at the altar of your perversion.
You had no right to flirt with other women in front of me and make me feel like less of a person because my rack wasn't as big or my curves were as desirable or I wasn't as cheap.
You had no right to want complete devotion from me and ask me to share you.
You had no right to leave me covered in bruises so deep that I couldn’t leave the house for days.
You had no right to rape me.
You had no right to brand me with a Scarlet letter when you didn’t walk in my shoes.
You had no right to create a child with another woman while you had sworn fidelity to me.
You had no right to accuse me of your indiscretions– or blame me for them.
You had no right to nearly kill me … and not come back for three days.
You had no right to take my innocence, destroy my art and chose imaginary women over me.
You had no right to tear my clothes off on the playground so you could be more of a man.
You had no right to try to destroy me because I intimidate you.
You had no right to lie to me or about me.
You had no right to bring your other girlfriend into my home.
You had no right to bring other women into my bed, even in spirit.
You had no right to withhold affection and punish me for your fears.
You had no right to use religion, ambiguity, jealousy, death threats or size disparity to control me.
You had no right...and yet you did. And I am left here with your rage, your violence and your pain trying to make sense of this world. I am left broken open with wounds that ooze every fucking day. I am left with your nightmares and your diseases and your impoverished spirit.

And I want to heal this. For both of us – for all of us – for the whole world ‘cause we don’t have to keep hurting each other like this.

to all the men who have loved me

I am sorry.
I am sorry for the walls, and the holes in them.
I am sorry I am so surgical in cutting you out when you cross the line. I am sorry you will never get back in.
I am sorry that I am confusing. That I am mellow, chill and let everything go until you hit one of the few points that really gets to me and the fire rages beyond control.
I am sorry I used your support to leave you.
I am sorry I don’t want to have a family with you.
I am sorry I hold back.
I am sorry I intimidate you.
I am sorry for all my pain.
I am sorry I played dumb.
I am sorry I let you get away with so much shit.
I am sorry that my path with always come before you.
I am sorry you can never really have me.
I am sorry I need so much sex.
I am sorry I didn’t communicate more.
I am sorry I wasn’t honest with you about what I liked and didn’t.
I am sorry I love the way I do.
I am sorry that I didn’t love myself enough to not marry you and the hurt it caused.
I am sorry that I am both so wild and so innocent and that I need both polarities loved equally.
I am sorry I set you on a path you may not be able to handle.
I am sorry for scare-ing you.
I am sorry for scaring you.
I am sorry for the wreckage.
There was a time in my life when I was absolutely insane. I am sorry if you came into my life during that time.
I am sorry I didn’t appreciate you.
I am sorry I didn’t stay around for the poetry and music I inspired.
I am sorry I let you go.
I am sorry I never asked for what I really wanted.
I am sorry I never asked you to be a better man to be with me.
I am sorry that I gave myself so fully to you and now you can’t have me.
I am sorry.

Moving Right Along...

Over the last the 2 1/2 years I have poured passion into this blog to figure out how I want to influence and transform the way we live on this planet. It started with the invention of the word recipronomics and The First Law of Recipronomics. It unfolded to musings on the environmental and social impact of our lifestyles ranging from the companies that make stuff and the way we structure them to trends, and (r)Evolution. There are thoughts on business and thoughts on the human condition from different perspectives with ideas to improve the situation.

A fun team building activity got a lot of attention. Somehow obscure terms like resonance made their way into the mix with some sad humor and random connections. The power and perils of declarations stood by taking a stand and a plea for respect with a little advice.

Postings got deeply personal with dreams, visions, nightmares, prayers and the most popular transformative adventure! There was heart break, yearning , romance, and dance.

Now the time has come to move right along to my new venture where I will pour the same passion into my new site, LeadershipSadhana.com and continuation of this quest.

Thank you for your participation on this journey. I am unbelievably honored for your contribution. Please join me in the next stage of (r)Evolution.

Dancing in Relationship, Recovery for Tough Chicks

This weekend I danced with a partner - a real, live flesh and blood partner. In a club no less. It was a bit of a head trip. I haven't danced in a club since my party like a rockstar days. I didn't know what to wear, where to go, how to navigate... hello outside edge of my comfort zone.

I have been on a warrior's path since I can remember. Adventure beyond belief has graced my footsteps. I have traveled the human experience both externally and internally in a way few others are drawn. I have chosen to meet life on my terms, in my way, by myself.

The warrior's path is often lonely. Loneliness has been a price I am willing to pay for freedom and my quest for Truth. My physical body now asks me to explore a new way of being. Community, partnership, relatedness. All of these things confuse me.

Truth be told, I didn't think I would enjoy getting down with another body so close to me. In the last decade the few partner dancing situations I have encountered have felt heavy, like a wet blanket dropped on my dancing soul. My date blew my mind, as he loves to do. He's got rhythm, he's got style. I don't know how to follow.

As I relaxed a little I found myself getting into a groove. Over the night I never really got fully into my groove. I don't know my groove with another. I had a great time trying. I have to remember I'm learning a new skill - it takes time.

Dance is a great metaphor for life, especially for me since dance is my spiritual practice, where I come Home to mySelf. I suspect a lot of partner dancing will teach me to navigate this new era of belonging.

Surrender and Fear of Commitment

Several years ago, without knowing it, I committed to my life being a Spiritual Journey. Taking this step is one of many fortuitous accidents that continue to shape me. As a seeker I am part of several communities - ones I never fully commit to. My dance with community and humanity is asking to be explored. It is one that confounds me. As a person with serious commitment issues I anticipate this will be a curious journey over the next few years.

I am deeply and wholeheartedly committed to my development as a human being. There is nothing else I can trust with no doubt to commit to. Deep in the recesses of my heart I yearn to belong in the fabric of humanity. It is something that calls me, for my development and my contribution. Through my inner travels I have felt myself fully integrated in the natural world, woven into the thread of all existence. I KNOW in every cell of my Being I am a part of the fabric of life.

Fractured in my experience that doesn't translate to people. I trust rattlesnakes more than people - you always know what to expect with a rattlesnake! There are a lot of practical reasons for this with my history... and some lesson I don't yet know how to learn (stay tuned).

In many Spiritual Traditions surrender to a teacher is part of the process. Being who I am I doubt I will ever surrender to a human teacher (other than possibly a lover) in that way. Teachers are first and foremost human, and therefore fallible. For me to surrender I need a bigger holding environment. In my journey, at this point in time, Life herself is the teacher, the lesson and the gift of practice.

A poem I wrote in May on an experience of surrender - I recognized that a decade of dating addicts was a sign of my lack of trust for Life to provide what I really want in a partner: a Spiritual Warrior who can be Present. My surrender in the end lead to progress on my quest.

How the Light Got In (homage to Leonard Cohen)

I feel like a junkie
With my bad boy lust,
Insatiable hunger
for an adrenaline rush.
Arousal or fear?
I can’t tell the difference
It’s an addicts’ high
Compulsively I seek it.

Life on the razor’s edge, bleeding
The only way I feel a thing
The ritual seduction
with trembling desire:
Cocaine
Whips, chains
The pleasure of pain.
EVERY high ends with a crash
In unfillable emptiness
Left in his wake.

I see him in strangers
Who look nothing like him.
His hungry, strung out eyes
Haunting me
For seven years.
His love playful, generous
Accepting the wild child
more often judged.
He forgot one small thing-
His family.
Etched in my body memory
His head on my chest
“so sorry” for life
That wasn’t meant to be.
Seduced, discarded, dismissed.

Coldplay serenaded the break-up
Renegotiated several times over four years,
Not a sober day among them.
Thin white lines drew me from narcotized sleep
To the sharp, intrusive day
With an emptiness so vast not 100 bodies could fill.
Frequent, intense, fear, pain
A brain wired for addiction by violence
Adrenaline, dopamine
The cycle repeats
With felons and addicts filling the beats
A new face, a new story
A new visit to the empty well.
Seduced, discarded, dismissed.

Heroin his solace,
His imprisonment my salvation,
Recovery my quest.
Cocaine dropped in an instant
With one jarring image.
Addiction to criminal addicts
a longer journey that brings me
defeated and humbled to
Resonance
in a room full of equally broken souls.
God – grant me the serenity
to accept the things I cannot change
the courage to change the things I can
and the wisdom to know the difference.

Pathologically self-reliant.
Trust?
Fuck.
I would rather walk
Through burning forests
Slaying dragons
With one long sword.
Pathologically self-reliant.
Hot, wet tears stain my skin
with the discovery
I will be in recovery
For the rest of my life.

Please God, is there another way?
Her lips curve in a knowing smile.
She repeats. Trust.
On my knees, where I never go, pleading.
You know I will DO anything.
If I can just DO something,
I’ve got ninja skills.
Then Trust.
Give me something else I scream
Fists ready for a fight.
I have. Now Trust.
Helpless, a tear laced confession,
“I don’t know how”
In that breath peace washes over me.
Surrender. There’s trust.

Keen Body Awareness is a Double-Edged Sword

I'll start with a confession: I occasionally smoke cigarettes. If you know me this will probably shock you, if you don't and you know my yoga tendencies and health freakishness this will probably shock you as well.

So why do it?

Anxiety. I was blessed with an over-active nervous system which gets me out doing adventurous things... and gives me overwhelming anxiety when I am bound to a desk, bored, lonely or going through a major life change.

At my last Diamond Approach weekend I shared this unusual smokin' tidbit about myself and one of the older ladies in the group (I am the youngest by a generation) said, "why don't you question what the anxiety is about instead of smoking?"

"Well, I smoke a couple of cigarettes every several years so I'm not too worried about it. You don't think I spend every waking moment questioning? That's what I do. 2000 hours of formal training over the last several years means I've got a highly honed skill. Sometimes is best to just let it go and thank the chemicals for their assistance."

As I watch my body rage an autoimmune disorder battle I weep from my tailbone to my toes and through the pores of my skin. Sometimes I compassionately numb the trembling with a cigarette and when I'm lucky with a hug or loving massage. When I experience betrayal I tremble all the way through my Being in the same way, pierced to the core. The double-edged sword is that I no longer have the power to repress or hide from the darkness. This means I experience it and the freedom encapsulated in the process.

The gift in feeling the pain so intensely is that I learn to make decisions that honor me while I yearn for deep, rich connection.

And -

When I watch the sun set or enjoy the company of someone dear to me who is Present as well it is one of the richest blessings you can imagine. I feel the love and beauty permeate through my very Being. I vibrate with the ferocious intensity of Life.

In that I have the opportunity to mirror it back to You. If you have the courage, I invite you to come with me on the road less traveled - you will be more alive and more connected than you could imagine. It's only hard 'cause it's worth it.

Seduced

Seduced

by dance.
Again.

I show up
half-naked,
willing.

Who does the seducing?

Me or She?

Does it matter?

No.

Result the same:
Sweaty puddle of bliss.

Socially Acceptable Survivor

At an event tonight I saw a woman wearing a "race for the cure" t-shirt with "survivor" proudly displayed along the side. It struck me as odd that some survivor-ship is socially acceptable and other is not. For example if I wore a "domestic violence and sexual assault survivor" shirt in pretty pink or pale blue how would that be received? I imagine it would make people uncomfortable. Surviving violence is no less heroic than surviving cancer yet somehow carries more shame.



Maybe the commercialization of pink ribbons for breast cancer makes it socially acceptable, maybe because the fight of cancer is against nature not man so "united we stand". I would love for someone working in the DV/SA field to commercialize a blue cracked egg that lives in the social consciousness to symbolize the incredible courage and strength it takes to reclaim power after violence.



Admittedly I thankfully have not had to face the battle of breast cancer in my body so I don't know how they compare for sure... I lost one of my dearest friends, the woman who introduced me to Yoga, Patricia Arters, to breast cancer in my mid-20's, the quick decay from vibrant, feisty, strong woman to tired bones was humbling. Her passing precipitated huge changes in my life, it was an inspiration to live more fully. This invitation required divorcing her son. Life has a funny way of opening.

In the midst of my current opening I stand for equal survivor-ship rights. Will you stand with me?


image credits: the eggs are percussion instruments http://b2b.coastmusic.com/ the shirt race for the cure

Sex is a Journey not a Destination

Curiously, I peek my head back into the world of dating after a therapeutic reprieve. Interesting world at my door step.

I took to a party what I thought was a simple guideline for meeting people: a decent, healthy human being who turns me on and is available. Not such an easy bill to fill after all. The evening was filled with fun interactions, interesting conversations and DANCING! As the party wound down a kid a decade my junior came into a conversation a friend and I were having about crazy people being good in bed and impossible in relationships. Now, I am experimental and adventurous by nature... and open and expressive. From wild he interpreted easy. On the dance floor he latched on to me and didn't take the hint when I clearly backed away every time he came close. Finally when he physically tried to draw me close to him I pushed back with "I am independent and need a hell of a lot of space" (especially when dancing). By his subsequent behavior (and sharply honed intuition) I knew he expected to come home with me. WTF? I don't know how wild translated in his head to assuming he had rights... and I'm kind of pissed about it, still.

wild does not mean easy

I embrace my wild side. Tattoos turn me on. I relish time with those who have not fully tamed their inner feral animals. The irrational spark of wild unbridled passion ignites a hunger in me. I am experimental and adventurous by nature. This helps push my unique evolutionary envelope. Adventurous experiments also mean I don't follow conventional rules for sexual behavior. That doesn't mean I am easy, in fact I am fucking picky... in my own unique and unconventional way.

More than once when sharing the story of a road less traveled someone (not particularly interesting, sexy, adventurous or wild) hearing that story has tried to kiss, grope or fondle me. I can see how wild would spark desire. After all, I know that feeling myself. What I can't wrap my head around is how they assume that because I push the envelope, I am there for the taking.

I can't entirely blame the guys, I march to the beat of my own drummer, probably not on this planet. I am sure they are expecting something else. Several years ago I did a lot of Muay Thai kick-boxing. Punching was a natural component in my muscle memory. Hours upon hours of practice brought this home. My Muay Thai career started as a women's self-defense workshop through my volunteer work as a advocate for survivors of domestic and sexual violence. I enjoyed the workshop so much I continued training at the facility that hosted the event. Several months into training I was dancing with a girlfriend at a club. I felt unknown hands behind me on my hips. My next memory was drawing my fist back after punching him squarely in the chest. His hands were raised to the side saying "don't hurt me." Another experience in his life taught him this was acceptable behavior, hopefully I rewired a little in his brain.

I still can't make the connection why Joe Shmoe thinks I would have any interest in something so utterly mundane as a random hook-up just 'cause they are there. I think the underlying principle for them is sex, for me it is exciting.

sex should be exciting

Life should be exciting. If it doesn't turn you on why do it (this principle is carrying over into more areas of my life)? The journey is the key. Sex doesn't have to be a sex circus - over rated. It is all about the journey, not the destination. There MUST be passion, desire, thrill, tenderness, riding waves of energy together. There has to be connection. Roaming lips, roaming hands, roaming exploration. When I come to sex I am looking for a shared journey, I can get the destination on my own. What I need a partner for is the surprise, opening new doors of awareness, revealing new things about myself, about how I relate, about what turns me on... in that moment. It changes, frequently. That's part of the thrill of the journey. Maybe that's why I have liked sex with crazy people - there is always an unknown. In the most prominent such relationship, on and off for several years, in my life there were a few things broken - including furniture and my heart. I think this was Leonard Cohen's "there's a crack in everything, that's how the light gets in." That crack was widened by a betrayal that graciously ended the relationship.

nothing kills passion like betrayal

enough said... no matter the nature of the relationship, honor it passion flows in waves, betray it game over. This can be romantic relationship, friendships or working relationships. Same with yoga practice - if you betray the body, pushing it too far it breaks down. Translated equally to life.

Honor connection, honor life and enjoy good sex.

Out of the Comfort Zone, Into the Learning Zone

Last week I got the leadership of the ODAT team (the most entrepreneurial, wild west group within Backcountry) to get out of their comfort zone and learn some new skills: AcroYoga with Amy Olson. We had a ton of fun and learned more about how we work together.




We learned we can stack people four planks high.




...and the importance of communication since the plank stack came tumbling down (not pictured). Since I landed on my face from four high, it still hurts a little when my rad cube mate Steve Perry makes me laugh.

Here we are developing the foundations for the 6-person Super Yogi Mandala. The more complex the configurations the more communication, or the lack thereof, became critical.



All six of us bring it together...



...for the Magic!



After we got all Yogarific we had to "man up" and went to the shooting range for some target practice (very interesting insight for me into the world outside my normal life).

Remember - a message from the Swell

Thursday 7/1

I have had enough of the bugs and heat. The big cottonwood tree at the entrance to my haven has a large branch I believe will be more shaded than my current spot. Further from the creek there should also be less pests wanting dinner from my skin. I gather my pillow and the blue fabric of my cocoon and begin the trek up the road. Under the brim of my sun hat I see them: intruders.

A couple of 4-wheelers lurk unwelcomed around my spot. I am not interested in interacting with human creatures and veer right toward the creek. They must find the appearance of a strange, elusive creature carrying yards of blue fabric around the desert rather puzzling.

A big tree with a thick low branch draws me in. As I walk closer to hang the cocoon a long beautiful silvery snake extends his head then ducks away, more threatening when invisible. I keep walking.

Finally, I find a spot on the ground to rest in the shade. As I extend my limbs, my torso becomes heavy on the earth and I feel the warm support of her holding. Wind brushes over me on her way down canyon, a light caress. Drawing my left hand to my heart I feel the steady rhythm of my pulse while my right searches for the same in the earth. “You have to start with the surface,” she says. I try to push it. No luck. I give in to her, she has more practice and eventually wins. I want to be invited in so I follow. With each breath I explore a new dimension. Lizards scurrying around dry leaves and wind blowing through the brush fade into the heat of the day, still soaring in the shade. The gurgle of the creek grows more palpable as I feel the ridges of dirt on my skin. Breathing, resting deeper I find a cool layer of earth underneath – dark and quiet. Peace envelops my heart as I feel the fluids roam their trails. Traveling deeper, in the stillness of that depth I find it: the same rhythmic pulsing as my own heart beat. In unison with mine! "Remember,” she whispers, “you are home. Remember.” I imagine all the oils to be a part of the lubricating pulse, “remember.”

Clarity = Results

This equation resonates DEEP in my experience. The more I know myself (an intimate form of clarity), the more this is true. My burning transformative journey was amped up last summer on my desert sabbatical and the results have been stellar!

The San Rafael Swell, known locally as the Swell holds a truly special place in my heart for holding and transforming me last summer. It is one of the most magical places on this crazy cool planet and the energy will knock your socks off! Last autumn Earth Energy Resources was granted rights to do shale extraction on the land. Gasp!

During my fall break-up I camped on the land again over Halloween - my equivalent of "going home for dinner" to find nourishment and comfort. I set up camp in the dark. My dreams were vibrant and piercing. Equipment, noise, destruction. In the light I saw I had camped by a small airplane and recognized I was an intrusion. I knew I must move quickly and get out of the way. Across the valley I saw a huge operation of earth moving equipment working away and my heart sank. Tears welled through my heart, seeping out of my skin, tearing me open. Trashing, I yelled "no, no, no" until I truly woke up sobbing and shocked. I peaked out of the tent and saw the soft glow of gentle morning light welcoming life in the Swell. She and I have an intimate connection.

I dream of facilitating a conversation with the land via a leadership development retreat involving yoga, meditation, stories under the stars, mountain guides and herbal explorations. The impact of my first run using movement as a leadership catalyst had impact. This event would be earth-shattering healing. My favorite herbalist shared a story where a pharma company gathered plants for medicine in their normal way while medicine men/women extracted them using their traditional ways (ethically, honoring and appreciating the plants). Not surprisingly the chemical constituents from the medicine way were stronger. Intuitively I feel it would be the same results extracting energy resources from the land. She is here to support us. If we learn to live synergistic-ally with her - Powah!

I have guides and teachers on board. I can get connections to celebrity storytellers. I lack a key piece: the leaders of Earth Energy Resources - for now. Working my network I have been developing contacts in the energy industry. It is a long, slow process.

This week I threw my name in the hat for a mini-coaching jam with one of my professional crushes. Defining what I am doing and needing brought clarity.

Yep, Clarity = Results.

Result = The Full Circle Group and a promised introduction by a dear friend who has done a lot of work with them. Cha-Ching. They are the missing piece of my tribe - passion, awareness and well-developed relationships built over years of rockin' results... and experience with the energy industry.

Clarity = Results.

This is Where I Stand

Sometime around Spring 2007 I began the notoriously painful process of removing my name from the records of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints. How it ended up there is as much accident as my birth into a devout practicing family in northern Mexico. This was pre-internet time (yes, there was such a thing) and we were isolated from information that wasn’t filtered through proper channels (presiding patriarchy of the church founded by Joseph Smith, a lecherous gold-digger, in the 1800s). At the age of 20 (nearly an old-maid by community’s standards) I married in the temple not entirely of my free will. It wasn’t forced, it wasn’t my heart’s choice and I couldn’t express my desire.

In the poetic beauty of the Yin-Yang of life, within this cage were the stirrings that set me free. My late ex-mother-in-law exposed me to Yoga philosophy, unintendinly teaching me there is more in this wide expansive world than the narrow lense I had been given. I began questioning “Truth” and there were no satisfactory answers in the church system. After 5 ½ torturously long years I filed for divorce. In the process I learned for the first time, at 25, that physical violence was not an appropriate form of affection. It was a fortunate accident to learn. I told a friend about being dragged across my living room by my neck and she shook her head saying, “That isn’t right”. Hmm, I never knew. Nothing in 25 years of wandering this planet suggested anything other than I deserved it. I never thought to question until this blessed shattering of light cracked through. Just as I began to establish my footing, speak my truth, recognize and express my desires the rug of any semblance of stability was cruelly yanked. When I committed the double whammy of evil, divorce and seeking my own truth, I was utterly discarded as a human being. Painfully rejected, judged and shunned.

To say the free fall of the next few years were rough would be an obscene understatement. Disgrace by a small fragment of the world’s population would have been more manageable had I had other connections in the world instead of the deep cultural isolation that had been pressed into me. I ran hard and fast from, with only a vague and foggy idea of to. Drugs and sex as much experimental curiosity as self-medication. No community for solace. No mirror to validate intrinsic worth. Only deep and lonely darkness.

Fortunately a few people held my unraveling threads together. Very, very few but it was enough for survival. Grace. My first sense of being held by a loving Universe was chemically induced. It planted a seed of hope until I could find it again later through the Diamond Approach. After several years of hard work engaging anger, fear and hatred; understanding isolation, abandonment and betrayal; I found strength, courage and love within me. I found a community with an accepting embrace. And I wanted to put the past behind. Severing ties with the Mormon Church was an important part of that process for me. In 2007 I contacted the local church leader and asked for my name to be removed from the records. He graciously apologized for the injuries caused by the congregation (entirely different states but the same body of church). He expressed that it would be a great loss to the church to not have me included in the membership because he recognized the power of my light. He also explained that I would lose all of the blessings of the church.

“Yep, that is exactly what I am fucking hoping for! Do it now, please.” My response was more political yet clearly expressed I had no reservations. He said we had to wait 30-days in case I changed my mind because it would be so much more difficult to become a member again if I took this course of action. “I have contemplated this for several years. Be done with it.” After the interview I waited my 30-days, called for confirmation that my request had been processed and didn’t hear back. Recently, years after I considered the matter done, I got a call from church membership looking for Sandra Arters. I explained that had been my married name and I had requested my name be removed. Very nicely the person on the other end of the line explained I would have to talk to the church leader where I lived again. I wrote a letter several months ago and finally got a response dated 12/26/10:

“you need to understand … the consequences of your action … cancels the effects of your baptism and confirmation (have worked hella hard in ceremonies to undo this already, please), and revokes temple blessings which includes your temple marriage (the primary fucking reason I want this done – he has no rights, not even to the thread of my name. I want this cut permanently).”

I have asked nicely, I have waited, I have been patient. I WILL NOT ASK NICELY AGAIN!

While fuming about this insult, a David Whyte poem, Self Portrait, came drifting through my ears to speak powerfully to my wee funk (buy the CD – he has an enchanting voice):

Self Portrait

It doesn't interest me if there is one God
Or many gods.
I want to know if you belong -- or feel abandoned;
If you know despair
Or can see it in others.
I want to know
If you are prepared to live in the world
With its harsh need to change you;
If you can look back with firm eyes
Saying "this is where I stand."
I want to know if you know how to melt
Into that fierce heat of living
Falling toward the center of your longing.
I want to know if you are willing
To live day by day
With the consequence of love
And the bitter unwanted passion
Of your sure defeat.
I have been told
In that fierce embrace
Even the Gods
Speak of God.

This is the year “the bitter unwanted passion of sure defeat” stops.

2010 was the year of Choice. 2011 is the year of Value.

THIS IS WHERE I STAND.

My name is mine. Not yours, not his, not theirs. My name and what I do with it is my choice. I choose value. If you are in my life, value me. If you don’t, get outta way to make room for those who do.

I may be different and weird, you may not understand me – now or ever, you may not even like me – that’s okay.

I am more powerful than incomplete perception.

You may not get why I choose to live an unconventional life. I don’t care. I make hard choices and not only take the path less travelled, I create it.

I live my life on my terms. I have sacrificed nearly everything for this privilege and will continue to enjoy it. I stand for deep, true honoring of experience.

I know on this wide, complex, evolving planet the world, the part of it that matters, is eager for what I offer – guidance with wisdom, freedom, Truth and sensuality. I walk the fire of transformation and bring light home. If you want this, come with me. It won’t be an easy journey… because it is worth it.

I stand for growth. I stand for evolution. I stand for compassion, connectedness and Truth. I stand for you, and more than that I stand for Me.

This is Where I Stand.

Sandi Longhurst – 1/3/2011, Salt Lake City, UT

Heartbreakingly Beautiful Happy Solstice

On my way to dance the Solstice with Shannon Simonelli I felt my heart breaking. For joy. Heart so full, happy and alive that she needs more space to exist. Breathe, open, expand. From past heartbreaks I know how much space enters lusciously through the jagged cracks. Leonard Cohen says it best, "there's a crack in everything; that's how the light gets in."

Tonight we danced darkness to light, releasing what no longer served us, appreciating the beauty and richness of our lives and inviting L I G H T - that which we desire. In a deeply intuitive moment Shannon invited us to blend our gratitude with our desire. I felt blue lightning crackle through my Being, bringing these together in time/space, weaving threads in the Universe. Fully in the moment I recognized that my gratitude and Big Desire now are one and the same.

F R E E D O M. FREEdom. Freedom. Through my Dancemeditation, Yoga and Diamond Approach practices (etc.) I have found freedom physically, emotionally, mentally, financially, socially, relationally, sexually, recreationally, spiritually, creatively... That's a lot of -lys. Every aspect of my life has been enhanced through this work. I have connected with my power and strength, grown, developed self-awareness, healed, recovered, developed trust, connected and transformed. I know the power of this work, walking the path and facing life - giving her the honor she is worth.

This is my gratitude. And this is my desire.

I want to share this from my Being - wisdom, power, sensuality. Connect to this; we are free. My desire for the world: be Free. Know and feel this in every cell. Finding this in myself, in this collection of molecules in the Universe known as Sandi is a damn good place to start. There's a big huge world and I need other leaders with me. Leaders with vision, courage and clarity to lead with clarity, to clarity for a synergistically powerful, life-affirming world. Sound good?

Do you have the courage to follow me? To Lead with me? and lead us to follow you? Come find me, let's show the world her Power and set us Free.

Gain Peace of Mind, Lose Street Ninjas

Dunya, my Dancemeditation teacher, explains the Sufi practice of whirling as an acknowledgment that we always turn toward one thing and away from another. In the brutally heart-wrenching process of ending a relationship I explore these choices:

Gain space, lose companionship
Gain self-respect, lose best friend
Gain self-awareness, lose keys (comical how stress compounds stress)
Gain interdependence, lose sense of isolation
Gain depth and discrimination, lose illusion
Gain self-reliance, lose comfort
Gain tight muscles and fever blisters, lose tears
Gain anger and distance, lose attachment
Gain more truth in my life, lose long pattern of enduring lies
Gain sleep, lose Jackson Hole
Gain fear, lose fear

Gain fear, lose fear? Not a koan, only recognition of the outstanding power in consciously walking through the fire, letting awareness dance in the flames… transforming. Experience fear, lose fear perhaps more accurate. It has been said that our development progresses along a spiral. We revisit key issues from different perspectives as we grow. Multi-perspective insight supports our evolution.

This break-up and concurrent move triggered deep issues of survival, isolation and abandonment (oddly as the one leaving – but it is there). An opportunity emerges to explore interdependence and boundaries in a new light. Deeply grateful for the near decade of deep transformative work on my tool belt, I walk, cry and laugh through the learning exposing new depths to each issue.

Why do Round People Live in Squares?

A design teacher I had in college explained that nature never makes a straight line. Because I learn experientially and want to Know for myself, I look for validation. After minutes, hours, days and weeks of exploration...

Confirmed. I have yet to find a straight line in the wild.

Last night Dan Schmidt brought this home again with talks of spiral built bones, spiral flow and multi-dimensional wonderlands. He mentioned an upcoming exciting new book by Theodore Roszak, "Change Your Body, Change the World." You think there might be a connection?

When I returned from my desert trek I was painfully aware of how inhumane this 'civilization' is. A colleague summed it up as "why do round people live in squares?" After spending weeks in intimate contact with the wild and free flow of nature, returning to fluorescent lights and blocked off walls felt constraining and unnatural. Civilization is so boxy and rigid, lacking the spark of uncontrollable wild.

Last year Bob and I spent Thanksgiving in Joshua Tree National Park for the Yogaslackers Redefining Balance retreat. Jason led us through an asana practice and had us move our mats to the side. He mentioned the obvious truth I had not recognized that most of the time we try to protect ourselves from the elements rather than engage them.

On the RideShare van to work another colleague mentioned that even those of us who play in nature quite often are usually insulated from her touch. If we do happen to touch nature it means something has gone terribly wrong, like we've wrecked on our bikes and our now a dirty pile of mud and blood.

With our health so intimately tied to nature: Engage!

Consciously, willingly and generously.

I find myself hungry for the real, the wild and the free. Movement gets me there, especially in nature. How do you get there?

Photolog - Overview

Overview of my journey in the desert - Most of the pictures are mine, a few are from Bob's camera. Other people you will see in the pictures besides me include Bob, our cats Calvin (the camping cat) and Priscilla, our buddy Jaime, his doggy Lily and our friends Luke and Stacy. Around the middle of the trip Bob brought me fresh supplies and made sure I wasn't under a rock, bitten by a snake or in some other catastrophe. At the end Bob brought our buddy Jaime and his beautiful dog Lily down. After my trip we returned to the same area to climb with friends Luke and Stacy. The really rad music is Apocalyptica interpreting Metallica.

Enjoy:

Moving at the Speed of Elements

1st in the "Dancemeditation(TM) in the Wild" series

Time doesn't actually exist anywhere. We can't touch it or taste it or breathe it. Although we experience it passing, it is a fabrication. Time is a perception we live by in the human world.

Wilderness desert has her own time. What to us is a million years is nothing in desert time. Wind blows, water flows, plants grow and die, mountains erode, stars fall, and life ebs and flows in the depth without regard to being marked on a clock or calendar.

As I absorbed the beauty of the land formed by water and air and reflected on the drop that is a million years, I moved with the elements at their speed.


Air was chaotic and wild, a violent storm bringing life: seeds and the water to open and flourish them. My breath was forceful like dragon's fire. Fast and flinging, my limbs were separate and free. I shimmered like leaves in a gust. Directions changed on a whim and without warning. I was power and freedom embodied.


Water entered hypnotic flow. Curvilinear movements breathed into each other, connecting my awareness to my body - one liquid in a unifying membrane. Arms led the way, opening space for my torso to curve into the space created. My hips, always eager for their turn, widened the bend and my legs waved like s l o w tadpoles following the stream.


Earth brought me into glacially slow, a Dancemeditation practice I first learned at a workshop in Santa Fe. It could take an hour to stand up and turn around. Once in the space, an incredibly deepening practice. A witness of me in the workshop commented that it didn't look like I was moving at all, yet when she looked back at me I had shifted. This is the desert at the land's pace and she appreciated me slowing down to witness her.


Fire lives in me, electric transformation at work. Yet this element I couldn't quite get in movement. I tried explosive and it felt fake. I worked with waves of fire and it felt like flow. As I write this I realize the glow of the sun, the dimensionality aspect of the Diamond Approach 5 Movements practice is how I express fire. She and I are one, I only need sense to embody her, which I do in each interaction with God's creatures. This is what allows transformation to occur where I am the catalyst.

The Last Thursday

Near the end of my retreat I started coming out of contraction. In Dancemeditation the practitioner goes through stages of contraction and expansion, the deep work happens in contraction allowing the open space to occur in expansion. As I emerged from contraction I started turning my focus to what needs to be done when I get home, who I need to connect with... life outside of my Swell retreat bubble. I feel like it has been a good retreat. I know myself better, feel more self-reliant and self-confident. I have had some incredible meditations and great insight, seen a lot of cool things, been able to be calm in scary situations (snakes, spiders...), and have enjoyed the time by myself. Reviewing the last couple of weeks and thinking of wrapping up I feel like it has been a really mellow retreat all in all - nothing crazy, no standard Swell epics. My only regret is I haven't been able to pet a cat (mountain lions roam this area). Considering a big cat could easily eat me for dinner this probably isn't such a bad thing. I see Cat Canyon on the map and figure that a place by the name of Cat Canyon would be a good place to see cats.

My hunt for the elusive Cat Canyon takes two days. On the first day I drive to an old mining area and scramble up near the top of the canyon. I expected to walk a good bit more before getting into the hiking as a lot of the road I took showed unimproved on the map. Unimproved roads in the Swell usually mean impassable in anything but a high clearance 4WD. My 2WD space pod sports car is not the recommended mode of transport for this land. I am surprised that I can drive to the cabins which opens up a world of possibility for travel. Scrambling I get up just above the level of the mines. It looks like if I traverse I can possibly go higher or I can get shut down. I have already made some scary moves I am not looking forward to reversing and it looks like more of the same with greater exposure with the potential of a worse cliff on the other side before descending into the canyon on the other side. Reversing my hike I traverse farther out to see if I can avoid some of the scarier scrambling and find most of it is worse. I slowly make my way back to the car. In my rush to see kitty cats I consider just driving out to the freeway and trying my second option without going back to camp to change my note so Bob can find me if I don't come back to camp for some reason. Luckily good sense prevails and I head back to camp, calling it a night.



The next day (Thursday) I head out again, driving the 30 miles out of the Swell to the freeway. As I merge with traffic I feel myself shift gears inside to match the pace of the descendants of industrial age machines that have replaced solid earth as my companions. I drive several miles down the freeway and re-enter the Swell farther West. As I drive deeper into the desert I see no other vehicle tracks and no recent signs of human activity. Early I came upon a wash that was sketchy so I turned back and went the other way. This brought me into a pretty good wash that I was able to navigate fairly easily most of the way at a maximum speed of 20 mph (although I realized if there was a flash flood I was heading the wrong direction with no ability to turn around and would be in trouble). Along this wash I saw a dead cow and took it as a sign there were cats nearby. Although the cats would have eaten it and not left so much waste, I was on a mission to see them so interpreted unlikely things as signs. Shortly after the cow I encountered a side road that looked like a good shortcut. After .3 miles it suddenly turned into a washed out rutted path and I thought I was stuck. Fortunately Alexa (my car) and I have a good relationship so she pulled through for me even though I had gotten us into this mess. I made a cautious sketch turn to back out of that area and got back to the wash. Now I am on edge instead of just uneasy as I continue down the wash. Soon I gain elevation and get great views of the (La Sal?) mountains to the west and a canyon that looks like a likely cat hangout. At the highest point in the road I notice there is a nice turn around section and think "I should just turn around here and head back, it's late in the afternoon."



Instead, I head down into the next section. The road is steep with a cliff on one side. I have a strong presentimiento as I shift into 1st gear to descend. At the bottom of the road is the sign below. I am 70 miles from the nearest town, 13.3 miles from I-70, no cell service for many miles and no signs of other human life in the Swell for days - REMOTE! I think to myself, "this could be bad" as I head into slippery, slidy, get dug in and stuck sand. My car slides across the road and I know I need to turn around quickly before I get into deeper trouble. I find a spot that feels almost stable, do a quick turn and head back out of the wash. I am definitely freaked out now and remind myself of the basic sand and mud rule - keep going. I feeling pretty good about heading out and feel like I narrowly avoided a disaster.



My car starts to slide, I feel it jerk followed by an unnerving banging/bouncing sound/sensation. I panic and do the one thing I shouldn't do which is stop the car. I managed to get the front wheels dug in as deep as the underbelly.



After assessing the situation I get back in the car and try backing out turning the wheels and just spin in deeper.



So I start digging out sand and building a rock bridge. I'm glad I learned the skill I hope to never use again when Bob and I tried to feed his 4-wheel drive Subaru to the Black Dragon Wash 6-weeks or so before on that ill-fated scouting trip.



I think "this is Thursday night, help will come Saturday" - hopefully Bob can find my note and I took the roads I said I'd take so it will be easy for him to find me. Surveying my situation I realize I have 5 gallons of water in the trunk, glad I kept it there instead of taking it out at camp. Random food will sustain me and I can sleep in the car if needed. Looking around I see limited shade opportunities to escape the punishing sun in the heat of the day. I think about blowing my whistle for help, but since there had been no other signs of human activity or tracks on my ride in I felt like it would only add to my sense of desolation.



Situation assessed I drink some water, chew a little osha root (very helpful) and kept digging and gathering rocks for bridges. It was slow moving, but it was moving.


Encouraged to see progress, in the midst of digging I laughed to myself, "this is still better than work."



Warm sand feels soothing in my hands and along my arms. I have been dirty for days so didn't mind digging in, resting my belly on the warm floor to reach under the car. Rhythmic repeated motion became a meditation. After a few bridges I was able to re-use the rocks and extend each bridge farther.



I notice a harder packed area to the passenger side and think if I could get my wheel there I'll be set. After about 60-90 minutes, fortunately in the cooler part of the day, I finally build the last bridge. The car drives over it, onto the hard pack, up and out of the wash to a big Woot!



My heart pounds quickly with joy and relief, a happy high!





























I did want to test my self-reliance and passed with flying colors even with the presentimiento as I was driving down into that canyon. I had less than half a tank of fuel and used that as the excuse to drive to Green River to feed Alexa and myself. It was time for a burger!

Spa Day in the Swell

How do you create luxurious pampering in a harsh, remote environment? Spa day! Yes, it is possible even all alone, with limited resources, deep in the heart of the San Rafael Swell. I had flowing water, a rich creamy lotion (completely out of place with most of my other gear) and my resourcefulness.

During my time in the Swell I frequented the creek, mostly to ward of sunstroke. When the fiery imagery reminiscent of my heat hallucinations in Costa Rica arose in meditations I knew it was time to soothe fire with water. Usually I climbed into the knee deep creek fully clothed and submerged myself to keep the coolness alive on my skin longer.

After some rough nights and even rougher days I felt it was time for some pampering, hence Spa Day and laundry day. The reason for laundry day was in the interest of simplicity I packed two pairs of pants and three shirts plus fuzzy pants and a sweater for sleeping (and a pair of clean socks and underwear, no bras – yay, for each day). Clearly, everything was filthy. Beyond the requisite desert dust there were tea and food remains, the perma-stench from sweating profusely into the same clothes in the 100+ degree heat day after day, soot rubbing off my cooking pot, random small insects, and unrecognizable particulate matter from whatever floats in the muddy creek: icky (yet heavenly in its own way).

Spa day wasn’t the typical dip and run visit but a nice soak and scrub from head to toe. Despite the obvious dubious benefits of bathing in something called “Muddy Creek” I stripped down at ‘the beach’ and got in, enjoying squishing my toes through the mud while I encouraged my body to slide into the cool water, cringing at the shocking temperature difference. I found rocks to hold my clothes steady so they could wash in the current while I leisurely rolled myself around in the creek, enjoying the cool wash. A light cloud cover rolled in – water letting me know she had my back. I submerged myself completely several times and took my time enjoying all the sights, sounds and sensations along the creek. A beetle came chirping scared down the creek as he had fallen in and I splashed him to the shore. I noticed how nice it felt to help another creature along and contrasted the feeling with the earlier glee of killing a fly that had bitten me. Where along the compassion to self-defense continuum do creatures fall?

As I submerged myself I remembered my childhood baptism at the age of 8 where all parts of person including clothing had to be submerged. Because I had long ago traded in my family’s religion for seeking my truth I decided to repeat my own version of baptism “by the authority granted to me by myself and the San Rafael Swell” washing away the superfluous parts of years past into the cool desert stream. I felt clean, refreshed and renewed.

When I got out of my bath I massaged the ridiculously rich lotion into my skin, especially my feet which I then covered in socks to keep them from collecting even more insane amounts of dirt. I scrubbed my face with herbal wet-wipes and did some minor cuticle maintenance. All in all the best spa day I’ve had in a while. I spent the rest of the luxurious evening wandering wrapped in a light wrap enjoying the cool-ish air as the cloud cover remained until the bugs came out at dusk.