My fingers above the keyboard, softly sweeping its surface feeling its smoothness, in that moment before it happens ... before the swirls and curls dancing in my brain, being and heart begin landing on these letters, in a well known pace bringing a welcome sense of relief yet to come.

So much has happened these past weeks, my body, sensitive as it now is, is hurting.

I have eaten at many tables, ingested so much life, love, insights, feelings, food that my digestion is slow, assimilation is demanding rest, breath, trust. A letting go.

I am an earth layered with dust, dirt, rocks, debris, residues, minerals. Crystals too.

A body with memories and imprints, a layering as a testimony of my journey, here and there, everywhere.

As I traveled through my earthly layers, I opened locked gates and dark secrets, entered somber attics to crack open old baggage, crawled through tunnels, shed light over deceitful swamps and sticky caves, brushed away cob webs, embraced shameful pain and righteous anger, claiming as I go the courage of my walk.

The graceful amazement I felt as a child when I marveled at the layering of colors, textures, and evident geological history on cliffs and mountain sides, is what I feel like now.

I´ve come to realize that the work I do with myself and my past, with the purposeful intent for clearing and healing, represents a minute dimension of what I am, in my planet´s earthly flesh.

As I clear my dark spaces only more appear, I see and recognize the fantasy I carry, shattering again and again the thought that one day the work will be done, complete.

During my latest travel I had time to sit and watch a warm sunset on a California beach.

I was enjoying the sight of surfers who sat, paddled, sled, played, danced, fell in a constant rhythmic relationship with those graceful Pacific waves.

I could sense them waiting for "the wave", open, willing, trusting that it would come, that they would have the perfect moment of being one with the power these curvy waters; only to have it end in seconds and swim back out, waiting for the next one.

This is my quest, my joy finding that the knowing of me, the treasures found and unburied, the lit cave showing its ancient symbols, the restoration of decrepit foundations are my surfing through life.

There is no end to anything, just a glorious moment of perfect union with the subtle and spontaneous waves of insight, knowing and understanding, that come and go, only to be invited again and again to remain open to the mystery of the following layer of me.

For this, all of this, I am only grateful.