I found this poem I wrote in the moment, at a 5 Rhythms workshop in Asheville, NC a year or so ago.  For some reason I found it this morning.

From out of the depths
of entangled obstruction
rises up the call:

freedom
joy
love

Like a breeze it is felt
blowing against stiff branches -
no yield without a push

a draining
a paining
… and them I am alone

I spin in circles of busy-ness
closing off so you cannot see
that which is me

What if you were to see?
Would you feel that breeze
blowing up from within?
Would you sense my resistence
to my own Soul’s cry?

I feel fear that you will
hear what I cannot hear
see what I cannot see
know what I do not know
or what I will never know

And then I look in your eyes
and I see me
I see you
I see the dance
I feel the breeze
of the call
of the cry
as it rises
through the obstruction

and I move
now yielding to the calling
and I feel … not pain
but just me
and then you
and the freedom
and the love
in my heart
in your heart
in OUR heart

and off I dance
into my life

Everything is different now.

Say hello to my three little new friends: Quinto, Conga, and Tumba. They play really well together and don’t give me much trouble at all. Sometimes they make too much noise and I have to calm them down.

I love these new additions to my community of other friends. Someday I hope they will sing a song that is  inside of me, but first we have some learning to do together. Much learning.

Absolutely amazing video! Give yourself a gift. Turn up your speakers and enjoy.

I love getting in real close to flowers. A whole other universe opens up and I see things I’ve never seen before. Close provides one perspective that’s fresh, and closer opens doorways to magical places seldom even imagined.

With light coming into our sitting/ music room, this orchid shows it’s beauty once more, after hiding out as a stick for months.

You break out in a cold sweat. Your stomach cramps or churns with butterflies. Your pulse quickens. Your mind races with reason.

We’ve all been there. Right at our edge. That place where we stop and do the dance of fear. The question is, will we let it stop us again this time? Will we take that step back into our safety zone? You know the place – that familiar place where you feel comfortable and unchallenged, and perhaps even complacent.

Last weekend I participated in a workshop that challenged me to look at what happens in my life when I step away from my edge. It was a sobering experience.  I looked at what I was doing and not doing in my life.  It gave the time to reflect on the choices I’m making and how those choices often get watered down and then therefore fall short of fulfilling my deeper needs, and my dreams for that matter.

I also got the opportunity at this weekend to experience some processes that showed me just how unconsciously I make these choices.   Simple processes that brought up some real foundational fear for me.  I found it interesting that most of them were around relationship, and even more so when I was one-on-one with someone.  Yeah, that’s just like my life.  Staying safe on the other side of my wall.  Wow.  I wonder how much I miss out on in life just because I’m trying to stay safe (stay comfortable) in relationship?  Hmmm…

And then, after an afternoon and evening of exploration into these fertile and shadowy places, I faced a primal fear that was so “real” it seemed impossible to overcome.  It seemed to bring the energy of all my fears right to a focal point by threatening me on a physical level.

The workshop had come to it’s climax and I found myself standing before a fire pit glowing with coals.  The time had come.  Others had already walked across so my mind at least could rationalize with me and combat the impulses in my body that were saying, “fire is hot”, “don’t play with fire”, “if you play with fire, you’re going to get burned”.  All the messages taken on through the years had formed deep-seated beliefs that were doing exactly what they are supposed to do – trying to keep me safe.  But, what if… what if these messages of warning were not true?  What if they were told to me by countless people who were living fearful lives of their own?  And then so cautioning me to be safe?

I looked into the eyes of the man I was partnered with for support.  The same man I felt fear with during the day when it came time to share things about me stood before me and looked back with eyes that assured me I could do this.  It was time. The time is now.  This is the place.

I took the first step and then just walked.  It was over in a second it seemed and I never felt my feet until I got to the other side and wiped them in the grass.  With great joy of triumph, I hugged my partner on the other side.  I had done it.  Fear did not win this time.

Later, when checking my feet for blisters, I was amazed that there were none.  Not one.  My feet were as good as new.

Things are not always as they seem.

Fear is an opportunity.  A doorway into all that is possible AND into what we believe is impossible.  It is that place where we are given that fundamental choice to back off or move forward.  I am amazed at how often that choice presents itself in life.   Sometimes even moment by moment.

Where do you stop?  What do the edges in your life look like?  Where are those places that you come to and begin that all so familiar waltz with yourself – the dance of fear?

I will leave you with some favorite lines of mine.  They speak to me today as much as the day I found them.

Come to the edge, he said.
They said: We are afraid.
Come to the edge, he said.
They came.
He pushed them . . . and they flew.
– Guillaume Apollinaire

This Thanksgiving is really big for me when it comes to simply feeling gratitude.  And oh how I feel it.  All over.  Like rain washing down through me.

I suppose I’ve always connected with Thanksgiving (certainly more than Christmas) as I’ve been growing up, yet in the past few years, the level of gratitude that I’ve felt seems to have gone much deeper.  I am more grateful for the things in life that I can so easily take for granted.  Sure, there are the “things” I’m grateful for, like my car, my house, my job, and all my stuff.  And then there are the more subtle, life sustaining things like breath, consciousness, my feet on the ground, the awareness of my connection to something larger than my self (the space between my and self is intentional), my health, my ability to be present in the moment, my willingness to be seen as I am, my close intimate relationships, and other wonderful gifts.  I am grateful for all of this.  I feel so much more alive when I own these for the gifts they are, and feel blessed for the life they give me.

Gratitude is a beautiful thing.  It is a huge creative force.  Simply by feeling it at anytime during my day, it changes everything.   If I’m down and out in some kind of dark place, it shines light into my cave.   If I’m having difficulty manifesting something I want, it can open the door so what I want shows up.  It can lift someone else when expressed to that person.  It can raise the resonance of a whole room or group of people.  It can shift perspective so that everything takes on a whole new, fresh look that’s full of possibilities and hope.

Gratitude is a blessing.  This Thanksgiving I inhale in this blessing, and exhale out my feelings of “not enough”.  I let go of my old, worn out story (pages worn from all the fondling) that there is only so much on this planet or within my self.  I know differently.  I believe in the abundance that is around me all the time, whether I see it or not.  Whether I own it or not.  It is there.  In my breath.  In the blood that pours through my body.  In my thoughts and ideas.  In my love.  In the big sky above me and in the earth that supports me.  In the many eyes I look into.  In the energy that pulses in the universe.

I am grateful for all this abundance.  I am grateful for this emotion of gratitude.   I feel it today.  I felt it yesterday.  Feel it with me tomorrow.  Come… feel it with me, and let’s change the world with this most beautiful, powerful, creative life force.

November 4th is coming. Leaders will be elected and re-elected.

I find myself in awe of this human process that we’ve created. For many months now there has been the onslaught of speeches, debates, campaign ads, analysis of the candidates from news agencies, issues being discussed among the population, arguments rising, emotional buttons pushed, cheap shots taken, conspiracy theories passed around, and yes… let’s not forget the silence.

I am fascinated by this whole process of selecting our next leaders of this country, state, county, etc. I believe it to be fertile soil for inquiry within. An opportunity to look at what lays underneath all the emotion and observation. The hidden truth – the shadows prevalent around leadership. What we hide, repress and deny with regard to leadership, authority, governance, etc.

This isn’t to say choices won’t be made in the voting booth that come from a place of consciousness, an awareness of what is important to us and why. Yet, what about those subtle nudges, the knee jerk reactions, the shot of adrenaline, or fear, or anger, or the numbing dullness? What do you feel right now?

What do you see?

When I watch the two “mainstream” candidates speak, I see children in men’s bodies attacking each other and defending themselves. I see them get asked questions in the public that they skirt and then immediately get up on their stump and deliver some practiced flow of words. I see them throwing numbers around that are not factual. And I see them use key phrases that strike viewer emotional chords, like “lower taxes”, “create more jobs”, “war on terror” (they even accent these phrases with their voice when they say them).

I feel fear that this is the accepted norm.

I see printed words of theirs that say they are about change, yet read their history only to find they are not the “mavericks” they claim to be. I see this charismatic character on the screen speaking inspiring words and yet their past reveals this only to be a facade of the time.

I feel anger that I’m not seeing the “real” man.

I see men who are not who they claim to be. Dishonest men. I see men who are so deeply entrenched in the system as it is. I see men who are without a sense of their own integrity and who are not willing to be accountable for their actions. And I see men who have not stepped out of the box and championed real change, without regard to their popularity.

I see men who are not the leaders I want to lead me.
I see men who are not the leader I want to be.
I see men who are not who I want to be.

All of this is fodder for exploration if I choose it. It lights the way to what I believe to be true about leadership. Who do I want to lead this nation? What qualities should they posses? What character should they have? Should their basic principles of their past and present be congruent? Should their words and actions be congruent? Should they be willing to risk their political future to stand for what really is in their heart and soul?

Do I seek protection from my fear through them? Do they need to be a warrior knight who rides in on his white horse to my rescue? Am I looking to be safe or saved? Am I looking for a King? Am I looking for perfection? Am I looking for God?

Perhaps. I understand how shadow works in my life and when it comes to an issue like leadership, I feel a deep stirring inside. I am aware that much of what I see and feel right now is about the leader that I want to be in my life. About how I show up everyday in my life. It’s an opportunity to investigate my own apathy, my own apprehension to take the reins of my life and steer the course that serves me, my family, my community, and my world.

May clarity be my guide as I exercise my right to vote this week.

However it turns out, one thing is for sure – we all will have more opportunity to look into the mirror and see how we are showing up in our own lives. And that’s a beautiful gift.

I’m off this Thursday to head for the woods to join a group of 35 other men, to accomplish the most sacred of tasks – to initiate men. To hold space so that the men coming will be supported as they experience their “ordeal”.

It’s been done for thousands of years in every studied culture on this planet. Rites of Passage. A process that has looked like many things, dictated by the particular culture and their beliefs. Yet these passages have a few things in common, namely: a departure; an encounter/ordeal; and a homecoming. It is the individual’s experience during these three stages, often guided by elders and other initiated men, that defines the passage. It is said to be a critical process in the maturation of the person, as well as the healthy growth and prosperity of the tribe (substitute community, village, country, culture, etc.).

Elder-led, organized, community supported rites of passage are, for the most part, absent from our American culture, and they are also absent from many other “evolved” cultures in our world. Interesting when considering the state our world is in.

It is no coincidence.

And what’s really interesting is that teenage boys (and boys in men’s bodies) know in their gut that they must experience a rite of passage in some way. They are not taught this in school and most parents are unaware of it and so don’t talk about it or guide them to a place where this can happen. But that doesn’t change the fact that somewhere inside them there is a drive to “prove themself”. So what happens instead? These boys create their own initiation through fraternities, hazings, or gangs and many other ways. It seems to provide these adolescents or young men with a sense of having accomplished something big, something they had to overcome and conquer. The problem is though, without the elder support and communities blessing and recognition, the results are often unhealthy and come at a cost to others.

I went through my rite of passage in the fall of 2001 in the woods of North Carolina on the ManKind Project’s New Warrior Training Adventure ( WWW.MKP.ORG ). This fall, seven years later, I am staffing my 17th rite of passage. I will help steward 20 or so men (ages 18 -80) through the bushes of their own jungle, after which they will be welcomed on the other side by family and friends (community). It is a beautiful and humbling experience. One that I cannot fully fathom even to this day. For it is true that there are forces at play far greater than I or any other staff man on this great adventure.

As the time draws closer I wonder if I’m up for this challenge. It is dangerous work. Many of us men have built great walls around ourselves and have invested a great deal of energy in maintaining them. These walls block us from achieving our dreams, or perhaps even having the awareness of what these dreams are. They keep us from healthy, loving relationships, rewarding work, the gift of our own presence, and realizing the magnitude of our REAL power.

I believe what makes a healthy rite of passage so effective at breaking down these walls that confine us, is that we have an ally. We have that voice within that calls for something more. That voice that cannot be avoided. It calls us to adventure. It beckons us to come out of our cave and to live fully.

This weekend 20 or so men will experience an adventure that will be their own unique blessed rite of passage. It will be different for each man. They will discover what it is time for them to see. Their authentic experience will be their gift.

And I am grateful I will be there to witness it.

And the world shifts again.

Today has been our last day in the Keys.  We knew rain was sure to stay with us as it did most of yesterday.  In the past I would be very sad… OK, I mean I’d be in my victim, swearing that I was getting ripped off on my last full day in the Keys.  Not this time however.  Instead, I took action before sun up that engaged me with whatever nature presented.  At 6:30 AM, Charlotte and I rode our bicycles up to the tip of land we are staying on to witness the sunrise from a different location.  As it turned out, we didn’t get treated to the color show that other mornings brought, instead we found the ocean sky to be dark, with all kinds of shades of blue and grey.  The water merely reflected the tone of what it saw.

Then, back at the condo, more beauty was there to greet us as the sky had already shifted to let in more light.

And so here my day had just begun and I was being shown yet another beauty of this string of islands.  Even in the stormy skies, I cannot look away from the stunning natural drama of this place.  It is mesmerizing.  I can’t remember when “foul weather” looked so good.

After breakfast Charlotte and I departed for the “Old 7 Mile Bridge Ride” that we had been told about.  It’s actually just a stones throw from our place here, so after a short drive, we were suiting up for the event.  The Old 7 Mile Bridge is a just that.  It’s actually an old railway bridge that was converted to a automobile bridge in the early 50’s.  Now, with chunks removed from it, it’s used for bicycles and pedestrians to travel out to a (now historic) Pigeon Key.  This Key has the dwellings on it that housed the railway workers from the early 1900’s that built the railway all the way to Key West.  Pigeon Key is about 1 1/2 miles out from Marathon Key and the start of the adjacent, newer 7 Mile Bridge.  It was a good ride and very enjoyable to be out in the elements.  I swam in the green/blue water and relished the wind that swept over me after.  The wind was constant and saturated me completely, drying the ocean’s salt on my skin.

The Old Seven Mile Bridge:

Then, all that dark sky you see ahead of us on the bridge caught up with us after we got back to the car and it’s been raining on and off ever since.  I began to feel sadness.  It kept coming up as we drove over to Bahia Honda State Park.  It was so rainy there, we left and headed back north.  The sadness deepened.  My fair-weather self was not happy that this was happening on our last day.  Yet it clearly was.

We decided to go back to Marathon and visit Sombrero Beach.  We had ridden our bikes down there on our very first day, but because we couldn’t think of anything else to do but go back to our condo and begin packing and cleaning up, we decided to return there in spite of the weather.

You see though, the Keys are not always what they seem.  The clouds can simply thin out in front of the sun (and nowhere else), and when that happens, magic happens.  The contrast of things become stark and very colorful.

The wind was so beautiful here that I couldn’t help but dive underneath this delicious water.  It was warm, and when I got out I could feel the air dry me and the salt together.  I felt alive and free.   For a while Charlotte and I stood leaned up against a pole of a gazebo and looked out over the beautiful sight before us.  I closed my eyes and felt.  Just felt the moment.  I could hear it.  The winds of soul were blowing strong.  Calling me.  Again.

Authors Note:
If you enjoyed some of these images, Charlotte and I will be creating a photo essay of our trip and will most likely feature it in a new blog to be released soon.

Yesterday Charlotte and I really immersed ourselves in the Florida Keys. Day 3 brought us beautiful weather and we spent it on the ocean and in the Gulf in a kayak. Wow! Between gorgeous clouds, clear water with shades of blues and greens seldom seen, and incredible mangroves to glide through, we found ourselves in awe. The beauty of this place is humbling.

Here is where we were:

We spent the day paddling out to Indian Key (about a thirty minute stroke). You can see it marked with an “A” on the map. This island is protected by the parks department as it is a museum of sorts. It still has old structures on it from when a man started a salvage business on it back in the early 1800’s. It changed hands many times after that and the buildings he built still have foundations observed by visitors today.

A common site for the day:
Photo by Charlotte Scott

We spent a lot of time swimming in the clear waters around the island. The water temperature was perfect. Once in it, I didn’t want to get out of it, and once out of it I was called back in.

Photo by Charlotte Scott

Eventually we headed into the Gulf via a channel under the Overseas Highway. As you can see from the above photo, it was a postcard day. I was amazed at the amount of movement in the water at this point. Swirling twisters were formed around the pilings of the bridge due to the water rushing from the Atlantic into the Gulf. I heard that this was due to tidal changes. It sure made for a vigorous paddle as we crossed the boat lane.

And then, a huge gift came. As we followed the verbal directions the kayak rental shop had given us, we paddled around a point into an area that took us to the mangroves. We had heard about these areas before, but never in my wildest imagination did I know what to expect. It was like another world.

Here is the path we took in the mangroves and showing how we entered the area (blue lines show our trail). You can also see this area from a greater distance on the first Google image in the post.

Once inside these deep, eerie mangrove tunnels, our senses were challenged. Moving through very quietly so as to blend in with the environment around us and to not disturb the wildlife, we observed twisted tree roots bending right up out of the water. Browns and greens and whites and reds. Trees so twisted they formed incredible sculptures all around us.

At every tight turn inside this wild place we were blessed with another new experience. Something new to take in through our vision and other senses. Reflections where everywhere:

Crabs that climb trees were another first for both Charlotte and I. We thought they were big spiders, like tarantulas or something, until we eased up closer to see the claws on them. What a great experience.

So they say around here, “you haven’t experienced the Keys until you have experienced them from the water”. We did that yesterday. And we had so much fun doing it, we may do it again today. After all, that’s what vacations are all about. And this is just where i need to be.

Photo by Charlotte Scott