This Place -- Kirkridge

Sometimes it is scary! Home is here, and here, is home away for many who seek their birthright gifts. And that is scary, for most of the days, I am alone. Without the daily routine of children to call me away from our vision, our call to the next place, the journey to what can be… is scary.

Being here, really here, in this place called Kirkridge, our home, is not for the faint of heart. The heart beats differently here. The heart listens for sounds and the mind can hear those calls in this place. Whether at my special corner or on the path, or in a meeting room, or in the company of others, the silence calls.

Most days I find that there is not enough silence, enough time to hear my heart. I hear the call of the children at the school from my desk in the corner of our house. I hear the birds and the squirrels calling out, rustling in the leaves left behind by fall. I move quickly. I half hear you; my colleagues, my friends, my family. I rush to a solution, a way to fix. Sometimes, that is really scary.

 

I work each day to slow down, to listen, to learn, to wait, to hold. Some days the minutes pass as I troll down the dark hole of the internet, lost in an abyss. I “X” out tabs that distract me, I work to stay present, to be present. I am happy for the awakening. This very scary place in my heart, under my feet, in this chair, that calls me to be myself, my whole self, happens here at Kirkridge.

Forgiving myself when I fall into the trap of the world and stuff – thankful for the holding in this place, ever so gently, right now.