Doubt Storms the Mind

This doubt storm blows in from time to time; it stalls the mind and undermines my inner shrine.  I shudder to think of what I’d become if I didn’t have yoga+meditation+music+creative outlets+nature to stabilize me when these elements pass through me.  Each storm is a learning experience and a way to reset the internal compass.  As I often like to say, if you don’t excavate, how will you elevate?


Who does this doubt belong to?
Where does it originate from?
What is this story tied to?
Do I know where I belong?

The doubt wears the crown
More often than I wear my own noun
When I think I’m on the turn around
Well here comes the run around
And I’m scrambling on the ground

All the things I think I see
False perceptions of reality
Is everything I feel
Coming from some reel to reel
Like a film that isn’t even real?

Did I make a raw deal?
Did I forget every skill?
Whose download is this anyway?
Have I been riding the wrong freeway?

What frequency am I tuned into?
What telescope am I looking through?
Who can I turn to
When I can’t breathe and I’m turning blue?

This walking disaster
Could it move any faster?
Am I stuck in plaster?
Never to be a master?

When I leave this room
It turns into a temple of doom
I could use a mental broom

If I could find a way to bloom
And blossom out of this impossible gloom
Break the glamour of this tomb

Light a thousand matches
Rise up from the ashes
Blink, blink my eyelashes
Recover from these mind rashes

Walk away from those attachments
That only left me in fragments

If I could embrace some movements
To find some soul improvements
To find some life amusements
To love this life and use it.

To Not React

Quarantine time has me typing my past journals on a more regular basis.  This has felt, at times, like notes to my future self (aka, me, right now).  Things that I needed to see on the page then, and work out in my mind at that moment, serve as reminders and sign posts to my current moments.  And it’s been that way for me through most of my typing process, regardless of when the words were written.  It continues to be a fascinating thing for me, and so I’m working on sharing more of these moments with you here.  I hope that the words are what you needed in the moment as well.  xoxo

9/13/19 –
Sometimes the hardest thing to do
Is to not react
To open the heart and not attack

The negative mind
On constant rewind and looking to find
The dangers and detriments that leave us on the side lines
In fear of the real or imagined crimes

If we can count to ten and take a deep breath
If we can stay zen amidst the mess
We don’t have to defend or be swept up in stress
We don’t have to pretend that we know what’s next

Petroglyphs, Tucson, AZ

Petroglyphs, Tucson, AZ

Sunday driving to Santa Fe


Sunday morning, headed west
The last five days put us to the test
New Mexico bound, it’s time to rest

A little rain on the rural highway
A little music that we like to play
and very few words to say

Dirt roads and desert flowers
And mountain air we devour
Where we can lose track of the hours

After four weddings and a funeral
Over the last five weeks
We arrive in New Mexico
A well deserved retreat

A few gigs and a festival, and some musical revival
Some time in the mountains to refill our fountain

Watching the hawks floating on the wind
Watching the freeway disappear around the bend

Synchronicity, Gratitude and the path we follow

Ok, so 5 months have passed since my last post.  TIME! flew by.  But it’s been an amazing journey.  We’ve logged approximately 10,000 miles in these last five months:  Louisiana, Texas, Mississippi, Oklahoma, New Mexico, Arkansas, Alabama, Tennessee, Georgia, North … Continue reading