I am remembering:

Remembering what it felt like living amongst the notorious Himalayan mountains.

Everything felt like fire.

From the incense to the gongs.

Everything was sun.

Everything was rising.

I felt within me all of this.

I remember sitting on the roof tops drinking in the shadow of the glorious mountains as Foti made music on his hand crafted didjeridoo.

The full moon covering the sky in a brightness that made our skin silver.

The fire roared and then settled into a constant slow crackle.

We told stories of our travels: Both the inner and outer sort.

India was hard for me.

A clash of all things that make my heart squirm.

Yet it was a birth for me too.

A refining.

“Snake and moon both die to the old, shed their shadow to be reborn.”

-Joseph Campbell

In these mountains I became a new woman.

I discovered much of my life’s soul work there.

(Although I did not know it yet.)

Much of what I knew up until this point was about to be shed, questioned, forsaken.

I would launch on a new quest that both excited me and scared me.

I am remembering this time in such a hallowed way.

It was a time of overcoming all that had overcome me.

The sweet taste of this place lingers in my mouth.

I want it again.

I long for the movement that happened there.

Small movements that gave way to the BIG cracking open of my soul.