In the past month I have traveled to two book events, one in Boulder, CO, and one in Minneapolis, MN. I’ve begun to write about each of them several times, but it took awhile until I was ready. Even though the content of each event was similar, I received unique gifts from each of them.

The Boulder event was my first on the road.

I was well prepared and found myself feeling none of the usual anxiety I experienced when I was faced with previous public speaking experiences. The participants and I created a space for grace and vulnerability to be present for each of us. When I suggested a short break, the group as a whole wanted to continue so as not to disturb the energy. It was a sacred circle that allowed for each of us to witness each other’s vulnerability in safety. Our conversation throughout the evening was poignant and moving. The date of the event was April 28th, which is Leah’s birthday. When I was offered that date as a possibility, I immediately knew that was the perfect date. We felt her presence.

The Minneapolis event was held at Modus Locus, a beautiful art gallery space that our son Peter’s friend operates. The audience was full of Peter’s friends and some of our family from Minnesota. Again, it was a warm and welcoming audience who appreciated hearing my story and my particular way of walking with grief.

Talking about my story and bringing my work into the world in the way I am being called to do so, brings me to a vulnerability that sometimes takes my breath away.

My stories come directly from my heart, and sometimes they are different each time I speak. I have a deep abiding trust that the stories that need to be told in each moment will be there for me to share. Preparing to do this work has brought me to my knees many times. Each time I speak I am brought to a new edge, challenged to grow in a new direction, and I don’t always know what direction that will be. For this reason, I am again learning a new nuance to the present moment. When I stay in the moment, I receive everything I need to share my journey, to answer a question, and to integrate the lessons that are present at that edge. I’ve learned how to use embodied movement to assist me to move through any feelings and emotions, either new or old, that I meet at these edges. Because of my experiences at my book events, I am learning a new way to be in the world on a daily basis. I am learning the importance of creating a strong structure to hold the organic transmission of my intuition and to provide a strong place for it to reside and flow.

After I returned from Minneapolis I was deeply drawn to silence.

I wanted to write about my experiences yet my guidance was directing me inward. As I sat each day and listened I discovered deep feelings and shifts that were calling to be heard. I let them be there as they were, moved gently when movement was called, and shed a few more layers that were ready to go. I am still emerging from that place, meandering through my days, listening and being with what is here, writing when I am called.

It is in these places that I continue to do my own inner work, to grieve, to move, to feel, to care for my self and my soul. I emerge from that space nourished and energized so I can continue the work I am called to do. It is a dance, always changing, always evolving.