It has only occurred to me several times before, the face of desperation underneath all it’s discomfort.


Desperation hides itself so well. In my bank account. In my relationship. In my family bonds. In my anger and sadness. In my unexpressed grief. In my worn down shoes. In my closet full of clothes that I no longer wear. In


She is like a chameleon who has a beautiful treasure that is wrapped in shards of glass and landmines, can change faces and color at will. Only to be seen by the most gentle and subtle of selves. Only coming out for just the right moment when it’s safe to be understood instead of despised or run from.

A few days ago I saw her, and she was the face of a small little girl who desperately wanted to play.


And not just play, but to share that play time with others.


She is a longing for tribe and community.


For the kind of community that you can just sit and be with, roaming around the same house doing what you do, and finding those little moments of togetherness, sharing, and connection in a dance of all dances.


The kind of community who sees more of you than you do and wants to support you in being that. Who values the way that you live and be, the gifts of your emotions and your expression of love and compassion, where there is room for you to act out if you need to, where people make space for your differences and help you and everyone else understand how that gifts the community, where your contribution to the whole of the village because you exist.







To me this is community and it’s somewhere deep in my bones. An ancient memory of a time and place where this was where we lived and breathed. There is honor here and sacredness. There is kindness and generosity spun from the webs of each individual who understands why they have come here.


Call it idealistic of me. But it keeps coming to my awareness, the lack of this kind of environment in our culture. From an article about how mothers lose out in the loss of the village, to a video about how illness is a societal construct, to watching the 2016 election season pan out. The message is becoming clear; we have gone far away from something we all deeply desire.

As the current system of society begins to fall on itself, it’s becoming so apparent to me what we all have paid a large price for. We may not always know how to articulate it, but I think many of us feel it. We feel the sense of soul deprivation, spirit hunger, being-ness starvation.

When I saw her face, I had so much compassion for sweet desperation. I saw her bright eyes and her joy for life. I saw what truly matters to her and to me.


Falling into desperation can be a challenge. She can feel feeble, weak, crippled, and small. She can feel angry and chaotic. But as you sit with her, day by day, she will show you her face, and you’ll find out that inside of all of that mess, is a deep love for life and a strong sense of desire and purpose.


No being would become desperate for something that means nothing to her.


Use your desperation to find your meaning in life. Straight to the roots that you can build upon.


It is there, where you can begin. Find your roots sweet sisters and go from there. Everyday it is a practice and a privilege.

An honor to be on this path with you all.

Always remember the beauty of life is within you.