It has been a long time since I have posted on the blog.  

In the beginning of September my clinic sponsored another team to run the 110 mile Klondike relay race from Alaska to Canada.  This year Ian diverted injury and ran the first leg of the race, I also had a friend from Ohio, Bonnie, fly to Alaska to join us. It is always a great event that challenges my athletic prowess and agility. It was also great having an entire weekend with Ian. It seems that between work and school our time together is mostly in between bathroom breaks from studying. 

Also over the last few months our family has seen new life, sickness, medical error, and been confronted with the reality of choice. To say the least, the last few months have not only been interesting, but ones of great growth. In times when I needed it most, I saw bold and vulnerable actions from others that spoke directly to the heart of mercy and forgiveness. In others I was reminded that we have two options in life: to live as one who recognizes the humanity in others, forgive, and love, or stay in fear. Though we all will face a physical death, living in fear certainly hastens a spiritual one. I have also been confronted with the fact that love begins with ourselves and in our home and cities, and only then can it begin to change the world. 

Just last week I attended a global health conference in San Francisco. I was looking forward to attending this particular conference with people "on the field" and active in global health issues. What I did not expect was the surprise visit from the man who inspired me to begin my own global health journey, Dr. Paul Farmer. For those of you who are not familiar with Dr. Farmer, he is literally the Ghandi of global health. He started his NGO, Partners in Health, several years ago and has changed the face and outlook of treating HIV/AIDs and TB across the world. There was a book written about his life by Tracy Kidder, Mountains Beyond Mountains, that I read years ago and was a launching point in my life for global service. I am a total groupie. 

Dr. Paul Farmer and I

What strikes me most about him are not just his international accolades, awards, or achievements, but that he has retained a heart of charity, compassion, and optimism all this time.  On the last day of our conference he showed up for a Q&A session with questions from our group. Though he is very well-spoken and knowledgeable regarding global health policy and development, it was his concluding motions that spoke to me most, he teared up.  

A friend of mine jokes that I suffer from global anxiety.  It is not uncommon for me to go for a run and break out in tears if I begin thinking on the injustices of this world. I am especially prone to this when a string of African songs accosts my iPod, or when I run after reading the world news. 

The other day this happened as I went for a morning jog and I asked God why? Am I crazy? Do I need my husband to run a battery of psychological tests on me to diagnose my psychosis or is there a Divine reason that this happens? I guess my experiences, like Dr. Farmer, cause me to see things differently now. I have trouble forgetting, nor do I even want to. And like Dr. Farmer, sometimes I cannot help but cry. 

Sometimes I see fire, fire that is constantly consuming humanity if the form of health inequality, political bondage, discrimination, and resource scarcity for some and over consumption for others.  My skin is hot from the smoke, always one step away from the flames. I am not angry or hateful, just sad. As I was flying back from San Francisco looking out the plane window far above the Earth, I thought what a beautiful world we live in, at least from the perspective in the clouds. Why does it have to be so ugly underneath them? From the heavens looking down I see its original purpose - to love and nurture, but upon landing I am assaulted with how badly we contort its purpose for personal means. 

Is it too late to become an activist joining alongside the Heavens? Well, though I should have started in pre-school, it truly never is. We are all health workers and activists. Each word we speak is an endorsement of our relationship to others and ourselves, each purchase an endorsement for a cause, and each action taken against our earth an endorsement of its importance. I am so small yet these feelings feel so large, sometimes I feel like I am going to burst out and particularize away.   For now I accept the purpose and though I cannot fight the system anymore, I recognize that it is the very system of which I am fighting for; the system that promotes wholeness and love. I also recognize that my global health journey begins at home, in my community, and then across the world. All of ours does. 

So, do something good today, a random act of kindness, be outside of yourself for a moment and listen to what others are saying and the needs that they are truly expressing between the sentences that they speak. Be an activist for something you believe in, but most of all, be a radical activist for love. If you can't do this how can anything we do truly be worthwhile? 

A few weeks ago we had Ian's mom, Dianne, visit us. There is a vulnerable transparency that is absolutely refreshing in having her around. I find this same characteristic of love in Ian, perhaps one of the things that drew me to him. Like mother like son, a true similarity exists between this pair. 

As I write this blog I chuckle at both Ian and Dianne filling their suitcases with books. Forgo the plastic trinkets of places visited, and pack up the possibilities that a mind wrapped up in a good book can bring. Voracious readers, inquisitive minds, and overflowing souls make them people you seek as life companions and friends. 

One of life's greatest gifts is in the natural authenticity of meaningful conversation; the conversations where through not much is spoken, you experience the words that are. 

I think it takes a truly authentic heart to be exposed enough to allow this type of pure communication to exist with another. Often with those of whom we are not entirely comfortable exposing such inner thoughts, we use conversation fillers, such as the weather. During Dianne's time here I truly don't think we ever talked about the climate, unless it was about its change and man's ethical responsibility towards slowing the process. 

Last night I had dinner with two very dear friends of which the above is also true. I often leave their presence feeling that words were not wasted on trivial fillers to offend silence. 

Perhaps this reflection comes at missing my husband (though I generally really do feel this way). Ian had to make an unexpected trip back home and has been gone the last week. The house, though cleaner, feels pretty empty. I actually miss the little morning tasks like scrapping the egg pan (during the 5% of the time when he is not vegan), rinsing out the tea press, cleaning the bathroom of little hair shavings or wiping the constantly dripping toothpaste off the counter (it just needs a lid!). Funny how in the rushed moments before going to work I often let out a little sigh before quickly doing the above tasks, and now through their absence, it causes me to reflect. 

The other day I did something a little weird. I guess I can be a little awkward anyway so perhaps for me this was characteristic. Regardless, I just sat in silence for 30 or so minutes and took in our condo. I didn't judge the wall for not being perfect or question the color of the couch we bought. I didn't allow my perception to be altered on what would fill the vacant corner or how the spider was making a home in the one above. I just sat and very slowly allowed my eyes to drift from corner to edge and take it in. And, after my eyes had their fill, I closed them and allowed my ears to experience their turn. I listened for the walls, the wood beams supporting them, the spider spinning his web, the air coming through the open window. When I was done I opened my eyes, and realized that I had just experienced leisure for leisure's sake. 

Then I got to thinking, can human existence be fulfilled in being exclusively a "workday" existence, 9-5? Do I define my days based on how physically productive I have been in regards to work or tangible achievements? I often wonder if the busyness of life is more of a reflection that we do not agree with our own existence; that behind all of our energetic activity, we are not at one with ourselves. And, like our conversations, we use "fillers" disguised as activity to define us. 

Leisure, then, is a condition of the soul and not merely a trip to Hawaii or some exotic beach. Not a weekend get-a-way or the antithesis of being at work. Most of us can honestly say that sometimes even our "vacations" can be more stressful than our actual work. It is a condition of being, a form of stillness that is necessary preparation for accepting reality. As I experienced in my condo, only the person who is still can hear. Such stillness is an manifestation of the soul's power, and leisure therefore becomes the disposition of perceptive understanding, of contemplative beholding, and immersion of true existence. In this place of non-activity, leisure becomes an invitation to commune with the immutable mystery of Being; to open ourselves as not the seize-er, but of the seized. 

In a way, leisure, stillness, and silence are some of the greatest teachers of life. And just like love, they give us the power to reflect and step beyond the working world into a time of holiness. They allow us to win contact with those superhuman, life-giving forces that can send us, renewed and alive again, into the busyness of life. 

Peace, love, and joy 

-Sarah

The time between posts are becoming long and longer. Since Ian and I are knee deep in school right now, finding time to post has been difficult. Sometimes I think we are barely keeping our heads above water, other times it feels like we just gave birth to twins. Thankfully we are both thrilled (total understate for myself) about our new journeys. Ian is thriving in the cerebral / contemplative realm that his program is providing, and I cannot wait to come home and study global health issues and reform. Most importantly, though, we are enjoying the journey, and like most new parents, each day brings opportunity for new discoveries both in ourselves and as a couple on our mini odyssey together. 

It has also been a summer of visitors. Earlier we had my brother, Blake, and his wife, Gretchen visit. Then, Ian's college friend, Shawn, came with his family from Taipei, followed by a visit from Ian's mom. As always it is great to show people Juneau and attempt to convert them into vegans. So far our record is not too shabby either. Blake and Gretchen may move out here in the spring, and I am pretty sure Dianne is going to be experimenting with new vegan cooking over the next several months. 

It was also really good seeing family. We haven't seen Blake and Gretchen in over a year! Thankfully they were troopers and let us drag them on as many rainy trails as we could find. They even let us hike them up to John Muir Cabin for an overnight camping extravaganza. Compliment of course with red wine and twizzlers! 

I really wanted to get them out in nature as much as we could. Coming from the same gene pool, I was hopeful that the clean salty Juneau air would be as healing for Blake as it has been for me. The more I let nature enter in, the more I learn from its teachings.  

If you shout at the oak tree it does not become angry, it you plant a beautiful flower garden nearby it does not become jealous. Its being is not in relation to any opinion, fear, thought, or outcome. It stands firm, deeply rooted, and practices being present all of its life. An oak tree just is, it expresses itself in just being. 

This is something I have been thinking about a lot lately. I have a tendency to run at life like it is a race; always focused on time, how competitive I am with fellow runners, or what place I will take at the finish.  Seeing your name among the top or being in the hall of fame, is consider by many a triumph. I do as well, in some regard. 

However, in the impermanent life where medals, trophies, and degrees can so quickly be destroyed, a legacy too firmly attached to such materials can be easily forgotten as well.  If however, my life has been one of love, after the dust settles, I will still have this to carry around my neck. More importantly, I can hang it in the hall of fame of another. 

In everyone, regardless of their physical accomplishments or wealth, there is the capacity to wake up, to understand, and to love. Understanding and loving are not two things but actually one. To awaken means to understand; once you understand, you cannot help but love. 

In my current class, global health ethics, we are talking about some very heavy topics. Civil conflicts, genocide, child soldiers, sex slave trade, health care disparities, stem cell research, etc.  My mind is constantly in a state of question and flux. One common thread in all these atrocities is the tendency of violence to supersede attempts at peace. Even "peace talks" are filled with emotional violence, anger and hostility. And, even though agreements are made, peace accords are often broken. 

A beautiful quote from the mission statement of the United Nations Education, Science, and Cultural Organization (UNESCO), states that, "Since wars begin in the minds of men, it is in the minds of men that defenses of peace must also be constructed" (UNESCO.org). I think this quote hits to the heart of so many problems, they begin in our mind. 

This weekend I watched a wonderful movie called Beyond Belief. This documentary is about two women whose husbands were killed in 911. Instead of retaliation or harboring hate in their hearts and minds, they decided to raise money for the widows of Afghanistan instead. Eventually they raised thousands of dollars and purchased chickens for the widows who could then sell the eggs for money. 

A few years later they travelled to Afghanistan to meet the women.  Once there they were overwhelmed not just by the poor conditions of the country, but how freely these women loved amidst all the atrocities they have seen, as well.  It was very powerful to see the recognition of our similarities unfold and cause an awakening of understanding, and ultimately love, in the American widows. 

Their love, I know, is hanging in the hall of fame of the Afghan women's hearts. Their legacy, through extending a hand in friendship, has also helped create an indestructible bridge of healing that no drone can destroy.  

I am guilty of not listening to nature's teachings, of being angry, jealous, and greedy. I am also guilty of clinging to my worldly "medals" and not freely letting them go. I am, however, aware that I need to awaken to these issues and allow transmutation of my gold medal into love occur. It is only through letting the hostilities pass through me, and not allowing them to attach to my soul that I can begin to progress forward toward real spiritual transformation. 

And only when, like an oak tree, standing firm, deeply rooted, and practicing being present all of my life, will I be able to provide shade and shelter to those who need it. I wonder if this is why nature is so beautiful; it is free of judgement, anger and hate, and free to love no matter what. Always. 

Sarah

When I sat down to write this post I had no idea what would come to mind. I went for a run this morning and though inspiration often comes while I jog in the rainforest that I call home, nothing significant came to mind.  I made some vegan cheese, figured out what was dinner, face-timed my mom, and then sat down with my much anticipated tea. 

I looked down at my placemat, which happened to be the country flag of the Democratic Republic of the Congo, the poorest country in the world, and immediately felt compassion. Thankfully, this is exactly why I sewed 8 placemats of various country flags; to remember and have compassion.  

As I thought about this word and what it means, I realized that this is exactly what I needed to write about and reflect on.  And hence, I am going to finish my Nepal trilogy of posts with the goodness of compassion. 

Before I left my niece, Evian, made 80 bracelets for the children of Nepal. When I see our children not only recognize and remember their fellow children across the world, but also choose to respond to them, I am always greatly moved. When our "future" sees and remembers I can think of no greater legacy for a parent to leave behind. 

It was a honor to put these little bracelets on the hands of the Nepalese children. Their smiles are memorable and imprinted not just on photographs, but in my heart as well. I loved allowing Evian's compassion to be spread to Asia and though in a bracelet, I know that it carried in their delicate weavings her love to them as well. 

In my life I have been both the giver and receiver of compassion,  but in the last several years I have accepted as truth that in both ways, compassion is core to being human.  The Dalai Lama once said that "compassion is a necessity, not a luxury" and that without it, humanity could not survive. 

I looked the definition up on Webster's dictionary, and it is defined as " sympathetic consciousness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it."  I found the phrase 'sympathetic consciousness' to be very interesting. 

To most, the word compassion is based on one distinct emotional feeling such as: empathy, caring, love, etc. Feelings, however, are impermanent, fleeting, and perceived through open interpretation of an individual. They are also risky being subject to change and variabiliy. 

By definition alone, however,  compassion implies an underlying awareness. Awareness to the physical, spiritual, and emotional needs of others. And, while not being just an emotional state, compassion really implies a deeper cerebral understanding of societal notions such fairness, justice, and interdependence. And unlike feelings which can change, it is grounded in something tangible. 

The second part of the definition implies action; action with a desire to alleviate the suffering of another. Therefore, to be considered compassionate one must not only be aware of the circumstances but also act on it with a desire to alleviate the injustice, unfairness, or suffering of others as well. 

Just like Evian's action, this idea is something both Ian and I have tried to incorporate more into our lives. Even though I would enjoy traveling around the world compassionately helping others, currently this is just not feasible. We are now both working on doctorates, have a mortgage, and semi-full time jobs. 

But, without excuses we can still be active and practice compassion daily. It could be as simple as saying a prayer before we eat for the millions of people in Somalia who are facing large scale famines, drought, and starvation, or for the now almost 60 million internally displaced refugees in our world. 

It could also be practiced as a random act of kindness to a stranger at the super market or the coffee shop, or in the form of a hug, a loving word, or a smile. 

Recently I bought the groceries of a lady behind me in the grocery line. I purposely picked her because she looked wealthy. I thought how easy it can be to give to the poor but how the affluent of our society, the expected donors and givers, are not often the receivers. 

She was quite surprised when I said that I was going to buy her groceries and quizzically asked me why.  I told her it was because there was enough negative things going on in the world and I just wanted to practice kindness for no reward. She watched me pay for her groceries in silence and when I was done she walked by with tears in her eyes. She told me that no one had ever done something like this for her before and that this was a very memorable moment in her life. Wow, for so little I could elicit such a lifetime response! 

I didn't tell this story to toot my own horn or sound haughty, merely to remind us that it is easy and actually quite edifying for our bodies, souls, and even our environment to practice compassion globally, locally, or even on ourselves. 

There is mounting evidence about the beneficial chemical processes that occur when love and compassion are practiced, both for the giver and the receiver. 

Researchers at an institute called HeartMath have been studying this phenomena for a while. They are learning that our heart, about the size of our fist and weighing less than 10 ounces possess a level of intelligence and sophistication that we are only beginning to comprehend.  

Did you know that our heart is actually an electromagnetic circuit? The rhythmic lub-dub that you hear and feel is actually an electric circuit of impulses that fire along a pathway to not only pump blood to all of our vital organs, but in doing so it also produces an electromagnetic field up to 3 feet around us. 

Henna that Kim and I got while in Kathmandu. 

Even more amazing, this electromagnetic field of energy can actually cause two hearts who are in close proximity to begin beating in a synchronized way. Two hearts beating as one really is true. What is especially cool is that science is proving that when this positive energy is intentionally directed toward something, it can actually promote and cause healing to occur.  

An excerpt from HeartMath's homepage discusses this in more detail: 

"The heart’s electromagnetic field contains certain information or coding, which researchers are trying to understand, that is transmitted throughout and outside of the body. One of the most significant findings of HMI’s research related to this field is that intentionally generated positive emotions can change this information/coding.
That discovery raises the question whether the cardioelectromagnetic field information transmitted from an individual who is angry, fearful, depressed or experiencing some other negative emotion, takes on beneficial properties when it is influenced by positive emotions. Also, is the care, compassion, love or other positive emotion not only transmitted throughout an individual’s body as the cardioelectromagnetic field radiates through it, but transferred externally as well to people in close proximity or even, perhaps, over long distances? 

Although HeartMath is continuing to study the effects of human electromagnetic fields over large distances, researchers say the answer to the first question, whether self-regulated positive emotions can be beneficial to the individual, is yes."

It seems to me that even if there is a shred of truth to the awesome potentials of this energy transference, it seems advantageous for us to purposefully emit positive energy from within us instead of creating more negative interferences that our world surely doesn't need.  Talk about compassionate action! 

Going back to my lady in the supermarket story, I am not sure if our hearts synced together and began beating as one (I think it rather unlikely that they did, actually) but I do hope that in my moment of compassion my heart created a larger magnetic field and transmitted this into to hers. And even if it only made her heart beat a little faster, I hope that it did so feeling my love.  And just maybe in leaving the supermarket being filled with just a little more love and compassion than before, her electromagnetic field bumped into another and unknowingly transmitted more love into them and our world as well. Like HeartMath dominos I hope it just keeps being payed forward.    

Examples of healing through compassion and specifically through the action of touch can be seen in numerous religions and cultures. Perhaps the most common example of this is when the bleeding woman touched the hem of Jesus's garment and was healed. And this phenomena is found throughout the sacred texts of both buddhism and hinduism as well. As Divine or mortal, we all have a metaphysical intelligence not limited to just to the conscious brain. 

What I am getting at with compassion is that though the definition states it is an awareness of others' distress together with a desire to alleviate it, it isn't limited in either perceived need or physicality. It can transcend both understanding and visible phenomena,  edging into the supernatural and metaphysical. 

For me, this is exciting. I often struggle with all the negativity, war, violence, and destruction present in our world today. Last week I actually felt somewhat depressed.  Sure I could blame a long work week, difficult patients, or lack of exercise, but for some reason I physically felt my energy depleted and couldn't explain why. Having not spent much time in prayer or meditation I now see why my body was susceptible to negative penetrations.  My electromagnetic force field was not only low, but I had carelessly avoided the very thing that I needed to nurture most, my soul. I think my body was showing me physically what my soul was trying to say spiritually; you need to re-connect your circuit. 

This is Anil, his mother, and wife Soni. He is the founder of Himalayan Healthcare, the organization that I trekked with in Nepal. 

I had neglected to remember the Divine circuitry that has been innately instilled inside my beating heart, and I had forgotten its ability to transmute this negativity into a surrounding field of compassion and love. 

And so this is what I am going to do. In little random acts of kindness, in prayer or meditation, in how I pray over my food and give thanks, and in how I respond and treat others and my environment, I am gong to allow my heart to do what it was made for and let it be an active sender of healing compassion. 

And though I will most certainly have days that are easier than others, I will try to focus inward with intention and manifest goodness within myself and let this radiate out into the world that so desperately needs it. 

So my fellow loved ones, remember this: our body is not only more intelligent than we give it credit for, but it also holds within it a healing power that is ready to be released. We all have the ability to be compassionate, and when we allow this to be unleashed, we are actively sending forth what our world needs most, more love...... And who knows who that will bump into! 

This will probably be one of many Nepal blogs. There is so much to say. I never expected to come so close to such a large catastrophe, confronted not only with how delicate life is, but how quickly it can be taken away. 

Many of the following pictures are what I call "The Faces of Nepal". I am so thankful for the opportunity I had to trek in their country and for their allowing me to serve them. Our medical camps were a success, we treated over 900 people.  Though they are poor in our eyes, they are truly rich in spirit and soul. In the wake of the earthquake I am again reminded of how important that is. 

I was thinking of this the other morning. Though I would miss my home, my Vitamix, and some other random possessions, I would still be me and be able to continue on without them. In many ways the releasing of my bondage to them would actually be quite liberating. Though I would not purposefully seek out their destruction, I know that often in the ashes beauty emerges, and sometimes it is the very fire we seek to avoid that is so very much needed. 

I have received news from many friends in Nepal, though the loss is great, all of the people that I trekked with are okay including the couple I met on the plane ride from Seoul to Kathmandu. One of our medical personnel did break his shoulder when a building collapsed on him and though he was stranded for several days, was able to be air lifted to Kathmandu for medical care. I have also received word that many of the villages that we served are decimated, the loss has been great in the mountain areas. 

One such area is Timla. We trekked there to dedicate a hostel that was built for school children. As the school was centrally located, children in the outlying villages had to walk long distances to attend class.  The trek was very difficult to do in one day as it covered rugged terrain and high elevations, so many of the children were literally sleeping in the forests so they could have the opportunity to go to school.   Last year a neurologist and her partner heard about these children and decided to host a fundraiser to build them a place to stay. The hostel was nearly complete when we dedicated it just 1 week prior to the earthquake that would eventually destroy it. 

I spoke to a friend this morning who said one of our campsites is completely buried in stones. Had we been camping there we would have been also. It is sobering. 

So what to make of all this? What can I take away from this experience? 

Before the earthquake I would have reflected on a journal entry that I wrote: 

If I make it out of here without a parasite or TB I will have considered this trip a success. Going to the bathroom has also taken on a whole new meaning. I am pretty sure that some of the positions of "squatting" are advanced yoga moves. I also now understand what a real hole in the ground is and never expected that I could get the deed done in 5 seconds flat to avoid being bitten by prehistoric sized horseflies or getting covered in your own, or heaven forbid someone elses, feces in what is called "The Blue Taj." 

Literally it was a hole in the ground and you just squatted. Period. Needless to say Nepalese people have amazing dexterity and quad strength, I was envious. Between bathroom acrobatics and mastering my SheWee (a female urinary device that allows a woman to pee standing up..... I could even write my name) I feel very comfortable saying that I can conquer any toilet or un-toilet in the world. Yay! At one point on the trail Kim and I had a contest to see whose stream went the farthest, I think she won.

Surprisingly after the first 2-3 days of not showering you just get used to being dirty and at 3 weeks you didn't really seem to care. I could never tell if the smell was me, my fellow hiker, or the water buffalo that we were passing. To be honest, it all just blended together like a crock pot of soup and no one minded or at least admitted to. I got really comfortable using wet wipes and bandannas and just continued about my day. Throughout the trek my teeth were the cleanest part of my body; at least if I asked you about the smells I knew it wasn't my breath.

It was actually quite glorious. Minimal personal upkeep, hiking beautiful trails in the Himalayas, and helping people: trekking by day, sleeping under the stars at night, with a few medical clinics thrown in between.

Because most of my gear was carried by human porters, my light day pack contained only small essentials: rain gear, my SheWee, T.P, granola bars, sunscreen, water, and my camera. Unburden and unhurried along the mountain trails I was able to walk in simple joy being fully immersed in the world of Nepal.

In this immersion all of my senses came to life - sights so breathtaking that I know the lens of my eyes had difficulty capturing let alone the ones in my camera. Sounds of goats, water buffalo, and children shouting "Namaste" added to the trance like state I continued in. I have never felt more alive and more present as I did in Nepal. There was an inner peace that told me to live and experience life instead of trying to use it to fix what was wrong inside. Too often we manipulate the world to fix our inner problems instead of going to the root of our suffering, ourselves. Change comes from the inside; you don't use life, you live it.

I learned that physically, the secret of the ascent is to never look down but to always look up. This paralleled my feeling toward life as well. No matter what happens to you, turn your eyes upward and relax your heart. In practicing this we remain purified, unburden, and weightless, never having to know another fall.

I feel this way for Nepal now as I did then.  In reflection after the earthquake my blogs may be slightly different but my experience and heart for the country is not. I will continue to look up for this country and hold on to the inner peace that guides.  Where I would have once reflected on my overcoming the physical circumstances of this trek, I now know that through challenging what is familiar to me and daring to question my traditional needs for comfort and control I have come back changed in more ways than just physically. SheWee's and Taj's aside, living Nepal for a month was life changing.

I wish the same for the people of Nepal, that through overcoming the physical hardships of their loss and destruction, they too may also grow spiritually together.

If I had to pick a shape for this trip I would certainly pick a circle. A continuous loop where on the upstroke I felt like "I got it," but then shortly thereafter would be brought right back down. Up into awe, inspiration, admiration, and then back down into humility, uncertainty, and even sorrow.

What is great about a circle is that it continues over and over until you build up enough velocity to break through into a greater circle of awareness and encompass more. Here you experience anew what has always been.  When your eyes open wider to see the freshness of life, your heart has no other option but to embrace it again once more.

A circle for me represents inclusion without sharp angles. Too often in my life I lived with sharp angles that not only cut others but ultimately myself as well. In the "circle of life" we can appreciate how our rings may blend with others and join into unity. It is not linked in perspective alone, but is continuously evolving as it goes around and around to encompass more.

There is a real tragedy in keeping your circle too small or allowing it to become a life rut; an ordinary stale rhythm that spins in complacency. Many of us get stuck in the cycle of trying to be understood instead of understanding, and yearning to be loved instead of learning how to.

As I reflect on this last month and into the future, I know that only in being present can I truly get more than a glimpse of eternity. And eternity may very well be one large circle spinning altogether.