I see you shiver...

with anti...ci...PATION.

Winter is coming. My feet are cold again in the morning. 

I have a friend, whose husband has been going through super-duper transition over the last few years, since their daughter was born. He is in a major depressive phase right now.  After having done all kinds of amazing and eyebrow-raising things in recent history, now he is incapacitated. It is hard on her and she doesn't feel she has enough space to be close to him. We talk a lot about it, because she doesn't think he actually included her in the process of transition, and now he wants a lot of attention.  Perhaps he is just resting, I say to her. Or perhaps he got addicted to the high of extreme change, and is missing that. Or perhaps he does have some major brain chemistry to work through and drugs  might be helpful.

I am learning that all of these things can be true, and equally so, at the same time.

A lot of people have been coming into my life recently. A lot of love; a lot of stories. Some of them hurt, but I am amazed at how powerful a catalyst is the pain. Last night, I was served by an older Nepalese woman who was stunningly beautiful. (The India Project is now code-named: Katmandu) And a street drunk with amazing eyes kept coming over to me and saying,"You are awesome. Awesome. (hand movement gesturing to all of me) Just awesome." And reconnection with my tribe, and integrating desire.

I am staying in the flow, because when you are actually in a wave, right? In a wave, the ups and downs feel balanced, and equally fabulous. (hush thee my baby, the night is behind us, and black are the waters that sparkled so green...)

I am moving slowly... to move consciously and not cautiously, because the slower I move the faster I get there.

I am enjoying the mosquito bites. 

And I see you.