Leave the familiar for a while.
Let your senses and bodies stretch out

Like a welcomed season
Onto the meadows and shores and hills.

Open up to the Roof.
Make a new water mark on your excitement
And love.

Like a blooming night flower,
Bestow your vital fragrance of happiness
And giving
Upon our intimate assembly.

Change rooms in your mind for a day.

All the hemispheres in existence
Lie beside an equator
In your heart.

Greet Yourself
In your thousand other forms
As you mount the hidden tide and travel
Back home.

All the hemispheres in heaven
Are sitting around a fire
Chatting

While stitching themselves together
Into the Great Circle inside of
You.

~Hafiz

Hey there All!  Gretchen checking in from the road...

For the past week, I've been on the road in Washington with my good friend Janet--traveling to new towns, being swept away by fantastic music, and connecting with really, really Good People.

This journey wouldn't have been what it was had it not been preceded by another trip a few months earlier. Mid-August, I was out in Washington having a very different trip. At the end of it, I visited Cape Flattery, the northwesternmost point in the continental US. 

It got me thinking about edges--personal edges.  And what I do when I encounter them.  Often, I've backed away for one reason or another (all rooted in fear of a sort). Then, there are the times when I've mustered courage and taken the leap--or baby step--over that edge. And every time, I've been grateful--for what I've learned or new directions taken or trusting myself.  Funny enough, these leaps and steps are never quite so terrifying in hindsight.

At that moment, standing in that spot on the edge of the continent, it became clear to me that I've been waiting years to face one of my own personal edges.  I'd told some pretty harsh stories about what crossing that edge would say about me. I'd approached the edge from a million different angles to see if, perhaps, a different perspective was all that was needed.  All these efforts and all these stories didn't change the truth that the only way to approach this edge was straight on.  And so I did.  There's no denying the sadness and scariness of leaving the old.  There's also no denying the liberation and exhilaration of doing something that feels so solidly right for me.  Funny enough, it's not nearly as terrifying in hindsight.

So, this past week I returned to Washington.  And this time it was to celebrate the leap (which I did with vigor, I might add).  Details to come...