Living Your Truth From Your Heart

ArtistYou don’t need a ferry or a long bridge or even an airplane to get to Madrid from Santa Fe , but it felt to me, I had landed somewhere special. Two weeks ago, I took a short drive through the rolling rocky sage-brushy country side of New Mexico to a small village. Not quite knowing what to expect, a found a artists’ colony of individuals planted in a very ‘wild west’ way. Unique, individualistic, passion-filled and living their truth; certainly old souls. Each shop owner had a story. Their journeys unique as their art. Some had survived illnesses. Some retired or semi-retired. One woman had lived without running water for two years. Another sold pottery made in the traditions of Native American ancestors fired in the ground and painted with four hairs from a child. Liz, a talented potter shared her poem, and with her permission, I share it with you. As you read it, reflect what imagery comes up for you? Notice what you notice. Is there a resonance deep within you soul? Does it have meaning? Your answer will be a unique as our individual essence. Honor this piece; body mind and spirit. As the world shifts, we are all affected. We can run, but we cannot hide. Whatever your truth and passion, reach for it. For when we live from this place within our heart, we not only can live from joy and personal wellness, but we raise the vibration of ourselves, those around us–and we can only guess how far out it goes–our state, our country–our world–our galaxy–and our vast Universe to which we are immeasurably and immensely connected.    Art

Poem by Liz Patersen

Once there was an Ocean here
an inland Sea

a vast water space of life

before the seeding of human kind

before the birth of our migrations.

Once there was an Ocean here

Birds freefalling into that waterworld

vast herds drinking at the edge of time.

Time unknowable

eons of sea-changing and grinding stone.

Once there was an Ocean here

home of soft life, shells slowly sinking

deep in the seabed.

Bones of beasts lie in the edges

of their world behind receding tides.

Once there was an Ocean here

slowly draining into the mother sea

soft sand moving, birthing rivered canyons

steep islands weathering into great ranges

leaving behind a trace of brine

in the vastness grasslands.

The desert holds the memory of ocean tides.

The stones protect and embrace

ancestral shells and bones.

Once there was an Ocean here . . .

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