I got home and while putting things away decided to keep the door open, although I knew it meant flies could enter, whose tone I find irritating. A noisy fly entered and bounced its buzz all around and I got up to close the door. Immediately I felt a calm. “Now I’m contained.” And that’s when I realized: a house is a womb. 

For the past two years I have been spending half the year in the states to be near my elderly mother. Going between places is trying for me. As much as I don’t want to and am not aware of attaching myself to the reality of wherever I am, I must do it, because changing places is both frightening and unsettling for me. Especially coming home to México. Odd because it’s the place I love, yet it’s been difficult to return each time.

Going between the States and México is like landing on different planets. It’s not funny, it’s hard. I seem to do okay upon arriving en el Norte, but coming back home is ironically conflictual.

Why would coming back to the place I love be anything but joyful? There are different sensibilities in each country which challenge my beliefs. In México, I work constantly to let go and flow, as that is the primary energy of the place. In the U.S. I enter the flow of information, resources, answers and help. As my time to return to México approaches I find myself fearful and furiously investigating supplements and other items not available where I live. I become increasingly unhappy, tense, exhausted and edging into a percieved state of 

Neuroanatomist Jill Bolte Taylor had a massive stroke, temporarily losing function of the left hemisphere of her brain, and experienced it consciously. She now shares her experience of the silence, connection and hope for ourselves and the planet that the right brain permits. “Peace is just a breath away,” she says in her inspiring and illuminating interview with Oprah.

Note what trying to have, seeking to get, feels like.  It's insatiable, a hungry ghost. 

I really want to help people who want to live a life that speaks of who they really are, that radiates their best self. I’ve known this but I’ve been afraid to take responsibility for it. What if someone wants to quit their job or leave their marriage and I support them and then they view their tumbled life as a disaster and blame me? So I ignored the calling.

The truth is, wanting to help people discover their values and gather the strength, courage and willingness to live accordingly is what everything I do comes down to. It’s invariably the subject of my blog posts and it’s a main theme of the memoir I am writing.

But there’s more. It’s not just about following your heart. It’s about living a life connected to nature. Not just appreciating it but living with it, in relationship with it, with respect. I call it  “living a simple life.”

I am consumed with how to live a good life, with the question: what makes a good life?

I am re-searching what is my core passion and desire in terms of making a positive diference in the world.

I’ll tell you something: helping people who want to take better care of themselves is a cover for something. 

Two days ago a dragon fly entered my house. It flew up to the skylight and tried to get out for hours, it’s wings buzzing incessantly as they struck the hard surface of the skylight.

Like many, I have had deep wounds that have taken my lifetime to address, feel and heal. As dedicated as I was to inner work, it wasn't until the last couple years that I have begun to feel an emergence from the veil of fog, which was my history.