fear, and dust

today i drove to alki beach. 

not to take pictures, really. more to sort out some passing emotions from my true feelings. about love. you know, the big stuff. sigh.

often this sort of sorting requires time, water, and walking.

i brought my new camera along.

fear came with me, too. 
like she always does. 
uninvited. 

she likes to put dust on my lens, and then tell me it is scratched beyond repair. 

when fear is talking, my stomach clenches and my heart hurts and my breath gets shallow. sure signs i should not believe my own thoughts.

fear tried to tell me, "your love is scratched beyond repair. you should make an ultimatum. you should just move on. you should, you should, you should." 

fear also managed to poke a few daggers through my heart while she talked. 
that's how i really know she was there.

but truth was there too. truth feels different.
truth is clear. there are no daggers. and dust is just dust.

the soft, expansive water reminded me of my true feelings. "your love is big, and wide, and real, and healthy," said truth. "you can relax. just breathe, and trust. everything will be okay."

i came home and looked at the pictures from my new camera. my stomach clenched and my breath became shallow. dozens of tiny gray smudges on every single one. fear shouted, "the ccd is scratched beyond repair! you made a mistake. i told you not to buy that camera."

(deep breath)

a softer whisper from a different voice,
"did you check the lens for dust?"

oh.

yes, there it was. a terribly dirty lens. black specks in the same pattern as the gray spots on my images. it is not scratched. it can be cleaned up. made clear again.

fear likes to put dust on my lens,
on my love,
and tell me it is scratched 
beyond repair.

orcas island. what it feels like to be in love.

"i am not sure if i really know how to tell whether i am in love," i heard him say.

i imagined shouting, "yes, you do! of course you do!"

but i didn't.

because do we? do any of us really know how to describe with certainty what it feels like to be in love? how do we know? is it ever just one feeling? can it be pointed to and measured with precision and accuracy, like the temperature of a fever-ridden patient? "yep, 102.5 degrees. you, sir, are definitely in love."

or is it indefinable? isn't romantic love too slippery and elusive a thing to nail down with words? isn't that why it is precious and sought after? isn't that why there are more lines of poetry dedicated to love than to anything else in the universe?

maybe being in love feels like...

maybe being in love feels like a soft, cloudy day so clear you can see mt. baker from the anacortes ferry line.

maybe being in love feels like a soft, cloudy day so clear you can see mt. baker from the anacortes ferry line.

maybe being in love feels like a fresh cup of vanilla coffee in the morning, next to 15 different shades of pink and blue green sharpies and a brand new blank notebook, with nowhere else to be for hours, and hours.

maybe being in love feels like a fresh cup of vanilla coffee in the morning, next to 15 different shades of pink and blue green sharpies and a brand new blank notebook, with nowhere else to be for hours, and hours.

maybe being in love, in a quiet moment of solitude, feels like the ripple of a raindrop that fell without a sound from the fog, past the cedars, and into a mountain lake that took you all day to find.

maybe being in love, in a quiet moment of solitude, feels like the ripple of a raindrop that fell without a sound from the fog, past the cedars, and into a mountain lake that took you all day to find.

maybe being in love feels like standing on the edge of a rock cliff at obstruction pass with the deep turquoise sea one hundred feet below, knees weak, stomach tightening with a pinch of vertigo - then spotting a seal as she floats like a mermaid with her eyes and nose just above the surface of the water and stares up at you from so far below.

maybe being in love feels like standing on the edge of a rock cliff at obstruction pass with the deep turquoise sea one hundred feet below, knees weak, stomach tightening with a pinch of vertigo - then spotting a seal as she floats like a mermaid with her eyes and nose just above the surface of the water and stares up at you from so far below.

maybe being in love feels like watching a pilot walk to the float plane at deer harbor, after he kisses you goodbye. the palpable sense of a never-ending adventure.

maybe being in love feels like watching a pilot walk to the float plane at deer harbor, after he kisses you goodbye. the palpable sense of a never-ending adventure.

heART yoga retreat : tulum 2013

imagine for a moment there is a precious and important creation - something the world really needs - and it is nestled deep in your heart. how would you go about waking it up? how would you bring it out into the light?

the most amazing week just happened down here. artists. yoga. inspiration. adventure. ocean. expansion. heart.

to kick things off, we watched a giant sea turtle lay her eggs last saturday night. it was midnight on a full moon solstice. as this majestic creature made her way back to the ocean, her prehistoric head turned once so that her eyes and mine connected. there in the moonlight, for one moment, i understood everything. "this is my creation" said her exhausted and sparkling eyes, "my offering to the world."

my heart broke open and i smiled through tears.

after that, each day had it's own creative magic...

gorgeous mama, 3 feet from head to tail. this photo was taken after she laid her eggs, as she makes her way back to the sea.

gorgeous mama, 3 feet from head to tail. this photo was taken after she laid her eggs, as she makes her way back to the sea.

self-portrait, before sunrise

self-portrait, before sunrise

boating across the lagoon at sian kaan preserve, near tulum.

boating across the lagoon at sian kaan preserve, near tulum.

jimena in the morning. actress. artist. angel.

jimena in the morning. actress. artist. angel.

lucie in the evening. artist. intuitive. light.

lucie in the evening. artist. intuitive. light.

guylene solon, a photographer, jewelry artist and budding film maker living in tulum, shows us her work.

guylene solon, a photographer, jewelry artist and budding film maker living in tulum, shows us her work.

in awe of guylene's photography

in awe of guylene's photography

we watch a trailer of guylene's upcoming documentary short film.

we watch a trailer of guylene's upcoming documentary short film.

her jewelry is incredible. www.lamourdeguylenejewelry.com

her jewelry is incredible. www.lamourdeguylenejewelry.com

posing with the artist, guylene solon

posing with the artist, guylene solon

beautiful nayeli aparicio - owner of the mexic arte art gallery in akumal, and in tulum. we enjoyed a personal tour of her gallery.

beautiful nayeli aparicio - owner of the mexic arte art gallery in akumal, and in tulum. we enjoyed a personal tour of her gallery.

yogi's choice: mezcales, or mezcales? ja ja ja! mmm.

yogi's choice: mezcales, or mezcales? ja ja ja! mmm.

paintings by nayeli's father, the mexican artist raul aparicio.

paintings by nayeli's father, the mexican artist raul aparicio.

thank you, nayeli, for loaning us the golf cart to tour akumal!

thank you, nayeli, for loaning us the golf cart to tour akumal!

jimena drives, and obeys the speed limit (posted on the turtle sign).

jimena drives, and obeys the speed limit (posted on the turtle sign).

...while lucie makes sure the mezcales doesn't spill on speed bumps.

...while lucie makes sure the mezcales doesn't spill on speed bumps.

tulum dream III

tulum dream III

old school valentine

“the thing about mixers,” he said “is that they don’t make them like they used to.”

[him: standing in her kitchen on the evening of valentines day. her: swooning a little at his schoolboy grin.]

“i remembered you wanted a mixer, so i got you an old-school one. i cleaned all the parts up with bleach so it’s sterile. and i glued the one broken knob back on with silicon polymer. here, let me show you the gears.”

[him: showing her how it works. her: blushing with butterflies, heart beating faster, and mostly loving the fact that her valentine’s gift is pure white with a hot red stripe.]

“happy valentines day”

dear fear

some journaling on this pre-spring morning, before heading out into the world for more yoga teacher training...

dear laura:
who do you think you are? some of the things you're planning to do this year are really big, and you might fail. if you walk through that door, you could even fall flat on your face. everyone might laugh at you. or even worse, they'll keep a straight face but secretly be thinking, "she's crazy."
sincerely,
fear

dear fear:
well, it's true, i am afraid of you sometimes. i'm even more afraid that others will share your thoughts and then everyone will agree...that i'm nuts. but heart keeps telling me i am stronger than you. and heart has never lied to me. so pipe down, please. i am going out.
love,
laura

having coffee this morning. with fear, and vanilla as companions.

having coffee this morning. with fear, and vanilla as companions.

writing a love note to fear, in my journal.

writing a love note to fear, in my journal.

leaving fear inside and taking an umbrella, in case it rains.

leaving fear inside and taking an umbrella, in case it rains.

see? even the baby grape hyacinths aren't afraid to grow.

see? even the baby grape hyacinths aren't afraid to grow.