I spent several years working and exploring in remote corners of Alaska as a young woman. This required transportation in floatplanes and small boats to rocky shores, arctic lakes, meandering rivers
and remote airstrips. The weather played an important part in determining departure and pickup times. It seemed that the pickups were often the most delayed. Maybe that’s because it was the end of a trip when I was tired, cold, and desperately in need of a shower and my own bed.
Continue reading “The Art of Surrender”
We are all open on Sunday
To the point our roots
Have pulled from the earth
& screens are the master of our minds.
Surrender the busy- ness
To the being- ness
To the pause between
The in & out of the breath
The rhythm of the beating heart.
Go outside & gaze at the sky
Feel the wind on your face
Your feet on the ground
Wrap your arms around your people
And give thanks for the day.