Dear one and all,
It feels good to have a space again to write, a space to share with you, and a space to cocoon. Some of you may have followed my travel blog while I was living in the Valparaiso region of Chile in 2010 and if you were one of those people, I am so blessed that you have found me here. Life has a funny way of shaking things up and placing you right where you need to be. Since Chile, I’ve been living in my hometown of Santa Barbara, a place that literally takes my breath away each and every day. I’ve been working, hiking, loving, exploring, studying, and digging deep into my yoga practice. But one thing that I haven’t been doing is writing. So here I am, writing to you.
I’ve decided to write this entry as a letter because I believe that for whatever reason you have stumbled upon my blog we were meant to share this moment, even if only in cyberspace. I welcome your ideas and comments and genuinely hope this space allows for connection. I am honored to share this space with you.
To try to catch you up on the past two years would be chaos. There’s so much to share, to explain; so many stories and interesting characters and incredible places. Instead of catching up, I will write from the here and now, allowing the past few years to organically weave through to the present. I find myself writing whenever there has been a significant change in my life; this time being no different. The writing process has always provided clarity and meaning to my perception of the world. To embrace change, I need to write. I hope you’ll accompany me in this process, and together we can find shared meaning, a space to just be, a safe space to cocoon.
While in Guatemala for a New Year’s yoga retreat I feverishly wrote in a journal, filling almost 100 pages in just seven days. As I thumb through the pages today most of my writing appears to be just chicken-scratch with one underlined, starred passage that boldly stands out. The passage reads:
“I want my heart and soul free. Free of and free from. Free of struggle, free from doubt in the canyons of my bones, free from running from the truth of knowing that something has been missing.” –Dawna Markova, I will not die an unlived life
This very much resonates with the essence of cocooning. Cocooning is turning inward to confront the truth, to connect with Self, and to know that you alone are enough, that the answers you seek and the freedom you yearn for is from within. There is no one way to cocoon nor is there a right way. I find myself cocooning when practicing yoga or writing or reading. You may find yourself cocooning when running or cooking or painting. Cocooning is a verb. To cocoon is to blossom; unlike the incredible story of the caterpillar transforming into the beautiful butterfly, we are not defined by these separate stages. We are constantly cocooning and blossoming, each day, each moment. There is no outcome we seek, no end-product to produce, no ideal image of how we should be. We just are. And that is enough.
I’ve included a seemingly random picture from my trip to Guatemala, but I’ve included it because it’s one of my favorites. It returns me to the warmth and vibrancy of this special place and fills every cell with gratitude.