Field Notes from Becoming
The mind can’t remember without the body. When I’d walk into a room and forget what I came for, I'd have to retrace my steps. There are no rooms anymore. Only paths. I’m not too far gone from the path if my body remembers why
Field Notes from Becoming
Within the soil, there is dark. Impenetrable to light through layers of accumulation, foundational rock, and decay from the seasons past. This is where the seed lies. She waits for rain, for the cold to pass. Timing is a flow to be carried by, not to be restrained. So she
Field Notes from Becoming
There is a watery sensation that spring starts to offer, as the humidity rises and the ground gets warmer to bring forth new life. In Ayurveda, the sister science to yoga that speaks to daily living, spring is Kapha season - or - a mix of the water and earth elements. The
Field Notes from Becoming
It's midsummer here in Australia, and is unusually hot - quite ridiculously hot right now - so I've been inside, cloistered, I like to say to myself. It is birthday season for my family, (I always include the ancestors, do you?). With those who have died, I think
Field Notes from Becoming
In June of 2023, I had just arrived in the Sierra foothills with my boyfriend, Chris, and our two cats at his family cabin. We moved from Florida and were in transition to the East Bay, utilizing the cabin as our refuge while our long-term plans began to root.