During one of the windy rain storms we had last winter, this tree came down over the path to Sailhouse. When I came upon it the first time, I was sad. Since then Ive talked to the tree. Many times in fact. The tree and the path then became the lessons of the summer here. 
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Somewhere in me is the entirety of that idea and practice and theories. But I’m trying to enjoy the last of the surprise sunshine today. The evenings are quickly filling up with dark already. 

Suffice it to say that the tree situation had me find other paths. I had to consider crushing new moss only to find a giant rock under it so I ultimately went around that too. 
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I sat up here plenty this season. I stumbled my way around the tree in different ways looking for the natural path. I tried to see what the deer did with the hurdle. I had hoped rabbits might hide under it. 
 
Sometimes I came in the other way so as to avoid the tree. One time I tried to get it upright again but I’m pretty short and it’s pretty heavy. There’s a neat ledge revealed under the root system now. I hope some critter lives there this winter. 

I cut the tree at some point. Probably when it was so humid or maybe just after that. Anyhow, I know it took several trips up the path trying to remember the saw. Then the cut didn’t really help much. I shoved it out of the way and trimmed it some. 

​But the other day I got to that place in the path and stopped. I said out loud “I kinda just want my path back, y’all.” Then lugged the top portion of the tree off the way finally. 

​The irony of the obstacle now obscuring the fresh path only to show the tried and true passage does not escape my tired brain. It’s been a strange season. I expect more strangeness in a nonchalant way that makes me laugh. 

So here it is, friends. Autumn at last. 
 
The way is open. 
 
The path is clear. 
 
Always a process. 
 
Always a lesson. 
 
Onward.

This corner has finally come into the glow of Sailhouse. Until now the cross beams and draping didn’t allow for it to reach this part in such a way. But something broke over the winter. Things shifted this summer. There’s new structure and process in place that makes for a protective niche around this baby tree. (See what I did there?) 

It’s the East and that’s all things new, fresh, and optimistic. I’ve worked on that corner all along hoping I’d get the chance to offer a Sail Hug to the sprig around which I have stepped a thousand times. I always say “hello” to it or “sorry I kicked you.” or “hey is that better?” after adjusting something. 
 
My east is the rugged Atlantic coast. My east stretches to Europe and the Middle East. My east wraps around and back again. My east also goes to the ethers where All Else seems to happen. 
 
Ten years ago I started walking here. I have had many moments of déjà vu lately knowing that my forever self has emerged, been remembered and is being seen/heard. 

​The relief and gentle satisfaction is immense; To look around and realize I have put down all the heavy things that once clouded decisions and moods. It brings the solidness I have been craving. It is from myself, for myself and by myself as an incarnated being, but the cosmic ties are so vast that their stories number the stars. ​

I have moments of exquisite joy and contentment where I can allow the effluence to buoy me through days, even weeks. Then there’s a reality check of a shadow looming but the fortification is there again. I have cultivated my tools again. I have a bag packed to share.
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Here’s to the east and the beginning of the rejuvenation found within the steady step, ever widening the path. 
 
I am walking. 
I am peace.
I am.