There hasn't been too much coming forth recently--no words seem right enough. Some words come close: sublime, inspired, righteous, delicate, inhale, juicy, dewy, gritty, anxious, doubting, truth, pure. None of them are perfect; some of them are close.
How can I write about something that feels like falling off the edge of some hard and sharply defined surface, but on the other side it feels familiar and inviting and I can taste what I can only describe as divinity and it is sharp and juicy and sweet and it smells of salt and earth and rosewater and truthfulness yet somehow that sharply defined edge seemed so stable even moments ago and sometimes I just have to look back and wonder why in the hell I ever let myself be nudged off of it and then I think of the women: soft, full, ripe, trusting, deserving and I go forward with them and we all spiral out into an unnameable galaxy and help bring down a new soul to this reality...
A five day marathon in some of the oldest mountains on earth. A demanding, unyielding, heavy and lingering two day welcoming of a baby boy. Two young midwives bonding over shit and blood and cold washcloths--water, warm and deep--delicately constructed sentences--deep belly laughs--serenity--contrariness--delicious, ripe womanliness--a dedicated and soft papa--all of us groping for the right vibration; the perfect wave length for a sweet baby to ride on down to us, earthside.
Three more days spent immersed in those ancient mountains. A sacred exchange of Women's knowledge. So grateful for those holy mountains, those loving and skilled midwives, the time of solitude and release and integration and education.
It's crazy, this life I have found myself in...downright absurd...and absolutely enchanting.
