The Art of Remembering...
OCTOBER 6, 2012
I opened the door to you this morning,
just a tiny crack,
and I find myself remembering
the exact resonance of the timber of your voice…
curling around me like the smoke
from the pipes and tobacco that are also a memory of you…
The way your hands
gripped the yoke of your plane
as you soared us through the skies
tumbling to the ground in a forward roll
on the tarmac in Cloverdale,
and reciting poetry to me
in the fog shrouded nights
where we journeyed into our hearts…
just a tiny crack,
and I find myself remembering
the exact resonance of the timber of your voice…
curling around me like the smoke
from the pipes and tobacco that are also a memory of you…
The way your hands
gripped the yoke of your plane
as you soared us through the skies
tumbling to the ground in a forward roll
on the tarmac in Cloverdale,
and reciting poetry to me
in the fog shrouded nights
where we journeyed into our hearts…
I remember the way your footsteps sounded
coming up the back stairs
and the thump of your briefcase in the office I now fill…
and how your arms wrapped around me
holding me in the strength of your beautiful heart…
I remember how we fought
over lines in the closet,
water-bottles on long hikes,
and who was right,
discovering in our seven times three years together
that we both were…
But what I remember most
is the twinkle in your eye,
your laugh,
your passion for all things just…
and how much you loved me...
coming up the back stairs
and the thump of your briefcase in the office I now fill…
and how your arms wrapped around me
holding me in the strength of your beautiful heart…
I remember how we fought
over lines in the closet,
water-bottles on long hikes,
and who was right,
discovering in our seven times three years together
that we both were…
But what I remember most
is the twinkle in your eye,
your laugh,
your passion for all things just…
and how much you loved me...
filling me with the joy of your mind, heart,
and the touch of your genius
that echos around and through me still…
and the touch of your genius
that echos around and through me still…
View more

Labyrinths provide us with a path to practice change. Some labyrinths have withstood the passage of time for thousands of years. Others are here for just an afternoon, drawn in the sand at the edge of the ocean. Many modern labyrinths were meant to last for years, but because of unforeseen circumstances their time is shorter than intended. And they once again help us to practice letting go and giving thanks for the time they are with us. The Labyrinth of Life at the Sebastopol, California Teen Center reached such place of letting go and is at the end of one chapter and the beginning of another chapter that is yet unknown.

Sometimes... a labyrinth can take years to become a physical reality. In 2018 I met with my friend Deb, to discuss her desire to have a labyrinth on the beautiful land she lives on. Despite our plans and several meetings, listening to the land and finding the right spot, the labyrinth did not come to fruition. Fast-forward five years and in the blink of an eye... it happened!










