I'm home and snuggling in tight with my tribe, just two days before the Solstice Mini-Course begins. Today found me weeding my garden, as my nude offspring frolicked around the property and applied paint to themselves and the porches. It was unusual for me, only in the sense that I arrived home on the west coast before dark this time and was able to make their bedtimes, and get a long night's sleep before hitting the ground running today.
Squam is always many things. It is equal parts art party in the deep woods, communion with kindred spirits, an opportunity to share the teachings that feel most immediate and real to me, and physically exhausting.
Enjoy this photolog while I sort through my notes and commit to sharing more writing this week.
Driving up through NH alone and into camp is sort of like traveling down a birth canal. It is so full of life, so green and moist, it literally feels like being reborn.
Peeling back layers to get to the fresh skin.
The cottage I taught in was the most exquisite on the grounds, in my opinion. It held my students and I cozy and sheltered, as I led them around the Medicine Wheel and drummed them into journeywork.
Hard at insightful rest.
Where we gathered.
The guides came, in their mysteriously reliable ways, delivering messages to roomfuls of women wishing to walk their walks a bit taller on the earth, without apology.
