The cooler, overcast days of autumn have arrived in the Pacific Northwest. Winter is coming... and I'm daydreaming of that beach above in Mexico.

When I first moved to Seattle, I discovered that at this higher latitude, I struggle with something called Seasonal Affective Disorder (SAD) during the dark winter months. I reject the term "disorder" as it simply feels like my biology is sending me a clear message that it loves sunshine and I have to consciously set myself up for success when the dimmer, shorter days arrive.

The reality is that for all of life that is smooth, joyful, and exquisitely beautiful... life is also bumpy, horrifying, and heartachingly painful. We've all heard this in sayings such as "you don't get the sweet without the bitter". "Brutiful" is now in the Urban Dictionary. Wherever there is beauty, we never have to look too far to also see the brutal.

We know this.
We forget this.
And then life teaches us again.

A short, simple newsletter this month. As of today, I am off on my own summer adventures (cross country road trip), and will resume teaching starting Sunday, August 8. In the meantime, please enjoy my on-demand library (link below) – and have a wild, precious summer, full of wonder and languid days

Life inevitably includes grief. Not maybe, but when. Many of us would probably choose to only embrace the golden orb of joy, if given a choice... but every one of us knows that, in our lifetime, we cannot and will not escape touching the shadowed face of sorrow.

Grief is a shapeshifter. It is both universal and profoundly personal. It is a natural aspect of being an awake and aware human being.

It may be that we want to be anywhere but with that raw, honest, present moment reality. I would propose that getting quiet to listen inwardly might be one of the most brave things we do in our lives. We don't always like what we see. We don't always want to see what we've buried there. Or, we know exactly what is in there, and know we aren't ready to be with it fully. Sometimes we don't want to listen when that damn internal wisdom speaks; we had other plans!

But there is also broad potential for healing and growth there in the fertile soil of stillness.

Looking around, here, too, are the first cheerful daffodils and the earliest blush of cherry blossoms. The birds, suddenly busier with song and nest building. The sun, a little more visible in the gray Pacific Northwest sky, plays peek-a-boo; the clouds, full of drama and random hail storms. Daylight stretches out like a caress, minute-by-minute, with each passing day. I, myself, feel a desire arising to play in the pots of dirt in my rooftop garden.

Hello from a tiny town next to a big ocean. I am here for on annual self-guided solitude retreat, where I spend delicious amounts of time in silence (save the soundtrack of ocean waves & rain), soul tending, and dreaming up the coming year of offerings for you.

A new year has arrived with reminders – both inspiring (Wow, Georgia!) and horrible (the attempted coup) – that we remain on the ragged, living edge of (r)evolution, and there is much work to do.

I, myself, have been recently reflecting (again) on why we rest. Why do I so passionately advocate and hold space multiple times a week, week after week, for our community to rest? Why rest when it is clear that there continues to be so much need for action?!

This year has been chock-full of distraction, distancing, and drama. As it comes to a close, may you find yourself giving and receiving Presence. I believe this to be the most powerful and valuable gift we can give ourselves – and others.

Recently, something occurred to me for the first time: to hold Presence in any given moment, there is nothing I need. It is not doing a thing; it is not having a thing; I do not need to acquire / find / buy / know anything, or feel a certain way.

Do you remember that you are a miracle?

You are the manifestation of your ancestors' dreams. Ridiculously tiny mathematical odds led to exactly your person being exactly here and now, where you sit, breathe, and read these words.

I recently read that for you to be born from the past 12 generations you needed a total of 4,094 ancestors over the past 400 years. The probability of you existing at all comes out to nearly zero!

Take a moment to let that sink in.

Why do I bring this up? Because each of us alive today stands on the ragged edge of evolution, descended from a long line of change agents. It is a miraculous gift that we are here, now!

There is – and will continue to be – important, sea change work to do! This year has leveled up the wakeup call. I guarantee that your community and this planet needs YOU. And they need you healthy, vibrant, focused, and sustainable.

In service of this – our collective community wellbeing – I will keep shouting from the mountaintops: REST IS ESSENTIAL!!

Rest is a key survival skill of the 21st Century... and I've yet to meet anyone who doesn't need more of it. Rest is not just sleep (although sleep is necessary for a well-rested human). It's not just naps. It's not scrolling or screen time. It's not distraction. It is the opposite of distraction.

Have you noticed how easy it is to fixate on “what’s wrong”? Or that bad news makes more headlines than good news? Or that insults or slights stick in your craw more than praise? Our human brains are literally wired for something psychology researchers call “negativity bias”. This means we often remember traumatic experiences more vividly than positive ones, think about negative things more frequently than positive ones, perceive bad news as more truthful than good news (!!), and react more strongly to negative stimuli. The scientific theory is that this is an evolutionary function of our brain's constant need to frame all of life through its survival lens – it’s always trying to keep us safe from potential danger. Negativity bias can adversely skew how we think, respond, feel, and make decisions – from a place of fear and pessimism, rather than discernment and consideration.

There is much on my mind and in my heart these days, friends. Yours, too, I know. I hope that you and yours are finding love and support... and remembering how critical it is to take downtime. We have more to do. I am using my particular position of privilege in the world to listen, learn, watch, donate, collaborate, and last – but never least – to hold space for others listening, rest, and healing.

I've recently returned from a two-and-a-half week cross country road trip from Seattle to New Mexico, and back. I'd like to share one of the insights that came from witnessing breathtaking geological marvels formed by inconceivable eons of erosion, plate tectonics, and climate change: Everything is changing – all the time. Nothing is static, immutable, or forever – not even a mountain. There is slow, steady, imperceptible change; urgent, violent, disruptive change; change that comes without warning; change that simmers and hints, a long time coming; change that unfurls wondrous before our eyes.