Homecoming

Greetings! 

I hope this, my second newsletter, finds you well!

I recently had two significant experiences, both of which served as a kind of homecoming in different ways, and by homecoming, I mean a coming home to myself.  

First, I spent most of last week backpacking in canyon country. For the seventh year in a row, I spent nearly a week off the grid, exploring the mysterious and enchanting wildness of the Utah desert. It has become a sacred annual pilgrimage which nourishes me in ways I could never explain with words. Here is a snapshot of a typical occurrence on any given day: while surrounded by vast expanses of sensuous orange stone, I am struck by a silence so vast and complete that it fills me with awe, awakening a similar silence deep inside me. In moments like these, I recognize that this kind of external silence doesn’t exist in the modern human world. Sometimes, the loudest sound, by far, is the sound of a raven’s wings cutting through the air in the distance, and after she passes, the complete silence enfolds me once again. It is my intention to carry this silence with me in my heart as I return to my physical home and engage with my work in the world. 

The second homecoming experience, immediately following my return from Utah, was being gifted with a last minute opportunity to perform at Red Rocks this past Sunday. The intimate crowd and quiet “COVID-friendly” backstage made for an idyllic night of musical expression that felt more relaxed than most shows. It was a welcome change. 

These days, as I witness the unfolding events in the world, it often seems that there are countless reasons to identify with anger, reactivity and fear. As I encounter these energies in myself, it is my practice to remain in my heart, to stay home: right here and now, allowing those energies to move through me without fixating on them. That capacity to not get hooked by my emotional reactions and their accompanying narratives is a practice, a work in progress. I am not always successful, but when I am, it feels like a kind of grace, and with that comes gratitude. 

The Dyad and Council groups I hosted this September were beautiful. They have been a precious gift to me as a facilitator. Each group is a participatory experience which invites what is meaningful and true within each of us, and this reliably yields a nourishing heart-centered connection with others. It occurs to me now that the silence which the desert evokes within me, is the same silence that emerges in our hearts as we connect authentically with other people. Most years, I feel a kind of grief when the time comes to leave the desert and return to human society, but today I feel a kind of gladness in knowing I have the capacity to help create a heart-centered community that supports the emergence of that loving silence within each of us, the silence that feels like home to me. I am continuing to host these groups into October, and I want to invite you, just as you are, to join us. The dates and times are listed below. Click here to register. (there are still a couple spots open for tonight's group

Thanks to all of you who have supported me through my Bandcamp music releases. My goal is to release my next EP by early November, so please stay tuned for that. 

Lastly, I want to recommend a documentary that strikes me as important: The Social Dilemma. I’m imagining this film has been making the rounds on the various social media platforms, but if you haven’t seen it yet, whether you use social media or not, the message that this film delivers is one way that we might begin to understand certain aspects of the polarization we are witnessing in American culture at this time.  

Wishing you very well, 

Michael