June 2006

right where i am.

by Leonie Dawson on June 30, 2006

is right here.

hello precious earth.

i will share more about my time in the desert soon. for now the dust settles and drifts into me, and i come to own the experience.

right where i am is:

a winter chest cold, musing and creating a new project, eating handfuls of my new favourite food – dates, drinking endless cups of chamomile tea, reading books in fitful bursts, holding my dog as he curls into the tiniest possible ball {the enth of cuteness}, playing with collages and watching ellen and oprah. i fumble about looking for something, but there isn’t anything, just a state of unrest.

i yearn to be more honest, more real, more abundant in my thoughts, more present with my intentions, and more comfortable with BEing instead of DOing.
i also have desires to be more popular and more in control but they are desires not yearnings. there is a difference between them.

i think i might start a gratitude journal again. throw the pile of books beside my bed back onto the bookshelf and be okay that i haven’t finished reading them. i realised last night when i look at my bookcase, i feel guilt that i haven’t read them all, when there is so much joy to behold in my eyes when i see the endless opportunities there.

i have started a new section in my journal, all about discovering who leonie is.

i thank you for hearing my story, dear reader.
even when i’m not sure where the story begins, where it ends, what the morale of it is, and if it mianders just how i please. my story is still important, just as yours is.

discoveries:

the wooster collective ~ brimming with street art
women imagining themselves into a new world ~ a thrilling collection

“Maybe we should develop a Crayola bomb as our next secret weapon. A happiness weapon. A beauty bomb. And every time a crisis developed, we would launch one. It would explode high in the air – explode softly – and send thousands, millions, of little parachutes into the air.
Floating down to earth – boxes of Crayolas. And we wouldn’t go cheap, either – not little boxes of eight. Boxes of sixty-four, with the sharpener built right in. With silver and gold and copper, magenta and peach and lime, amber and umber and all the rest. And people would smile and get a little funny look on their faces and cover the world with imagination.”

~ Robert Fulghum, “All I Really Need to Know I Learned in Kindergarten”

dance.

by Leonie Dawson on June 26, 2006


ellen

i hope you know in your life
what it is to dance
because your body calls you
to express in movement
your joy, your tribalism, your anger, your energy, your life.

may you dance in the desert
and by the ocean
in your living room
with and without your lover
with and without your dog
with and without your self
in the sun and by starlight
right where you are right now
may you dance into yourself

and find your belonging your breath your beat

i hope you know how to dance by clapping sticks, clapping hands, the haunt of a wooden flute, the gentle humming thud of gaia’s heart.

i hope you dance…

{get inspired by the remarkable Winter of the Dance}
{listen to a fave song of mine “i hope you dance“}

desert dancer

by Leonie Dawson on June 25, 2006

the desert was a miracle.

the red sand beneath my feet, patterning my clothes.
the beautiful landscape and HER palpable heart beat.
the new friends.
the big spirit lessons.
the connecting with my lover in incredible new ways.

i left my skin somewhere out there in the desert.
tears spring to my eyes as i write this.
yes, my skin. my old skin.
i dreamt it out of me, i wrote it out of me, i spoke it out of me, i meditated it out of me.
i grieved her a little,
and i celebrated her a lot more.

i danced in the dunes.
i emu danced and i rainbow-serpent danced.
i danced in the rock caves of the world’s largest monolith.
i drank in sunsets and sunrises and stargazed every night.
i saw angels and cosmic heartbeats and shooting stars.
i marvelled and i sang and i learned and i heard.

Photobucket - Video and Image Hosting

i am restless for the desert dunes,
the true heartlands.
i want you back like a babe misses the womb,
and yet i know i am to grow without you for now,
but within me is the desert. i know the desert in me now.
i know the woman who dances in the desert.



buffalo in the desert,
walking her lessons through.

be blessed,
Leonie