To Release

Hello, Loves.

It calms me to write to you. I hope you somehow feel that, the energy of serenity flowing from my fingertips to the keyboard, placing words on a page which you will then read. I send you love and the wish for serenity during these enging times. I’ve completely lost track of how many weeks we’ve been doing this “shelter in place” thing and seemingly with very little progress being made for our collective sacrifices. That said, I find myself reflecting on all I’ve been releasing lately. Releasing the expectation of normalcy. Releasing the supposed need for certainty. Releasing the notion of planning for the near future. Releasing the desire to gather with friends, to hug them and hold them dear. And when I’m able to genuinely release whatever I’m holding in my body, I feel this exquisite send of an ease of being, of spaciousness in my bones. With release, there’s the felt sensation of fluidity in my movement. And this is what I yearn for, to embody the qualities of relaxation, generosity, acceptance of what is.

Tomorrow, on the dance floor with you, may we all have the pleasure of releasing all that doesn’t serve us.

It warms my heart to tell you that our beloved Jennifer Burner will be our pilot tomorrow. She will guide us lovingly with her gentle way of being, her loving wisdom, her grace.

Here’s that helpful link.

Here’s an old favorite by a beloved and highly esteemed poet, Joy Harjo. I’ve carried this poem around with me since I was 20 years old.

I Give You Back”

By Joy Harjo

I release you, my beautiful and terrible fear.

I release you.

You were my beloved and hated twin, but now, I don’t know you as myself.

I release you with all the pain I would know at the death of my daughters.

You are not my blood anymore.

I give you back to the white soldiers who burned down my home, beheaded my children, raped and sodomized my brothers and sisters.

I give you back to those who stole the food from our plates when we were starving.

I release you, fear, because you hold these scenes in front of me and I was born with eyes that can never close.

I release you, fear, so you can no longer keep me naked and frozen in the winter, or smothered under blankets in the summer.

I release you

I release you

I release you

I release you

I am not afraid to be angry.

I am not afraid to rejoice.

I am not afraid to be black.

I am not afraid to be white.

I am not afraid to be hungry.

I am not afraid to be full.

I am not afraid to be hated.

I am not afraid to be loved, to be loved, to be loved, fear.

Oh, you have choked me, but I gave you the leash.

You have gutted me but I gave you the knife.

You have devoured me, but I laid myself across the fire.

I take myself back, fear.

You are not my shadow any longer.

I won’t hold you in my hands.

You can’t live in my eyes, my ears, my voice my belly, or in my heart my heart my heart my heart.

But come here, fear.

I am alive and you are so afraid of dying.

Sending love,


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