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In memory of Mary Oliver and cherry blossoms
… And under the trees, beyond time´s brittle drift, I stood like Adam in his lonely garden On that first morning, shaken out of sleep, Rubbing his eyes, listening, parting the leaves, Like tissue on some vast incredible gift. – Mary Oliver, Morning in a New Land Mary Oliver, American poet and my soul mentor, crossed the threshold yesterday Between the Worlds. Sunset has some deeper meaning for me. I cannot quite grasp it or capture it in words. Not yet. „What is worthy of the moments and sunrises ahead?“, I asked the old cherry tree in the vineyard. It did not blossom last year. Who else remembers the orgy…
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Sunday. Winter. My Heroine´s Journey has taken a radical, unplanned path. Beauty is not only harmony and light. It is what it is. Real life. Kismet. More than ever before, my nomadic story brings me to a plot point requiring perhaps more courage than I ever had, more courage than I have in this moment. I feel like this frozen, stunned marigold. This is my reality now. As some of you already know, I have been experiencing a serious health issue which needs my attention. Yesterday I travelled over 1,000 kilometers through snow-covered Austria to Innsbruck where I spoke to one of the worlds leading heart surgeons, Prof. Ludwig Müller.…
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Restless nomad
Where am I today? Under the stars is all I can say. A grateful guest of all this coming and going. Winter stillness surrounds me in the vineyard. Listen! In the earth under my feet millions of ecstatic beings follow the ancient story beyond the stars. They already know the colors of springtime.
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