I have joined the blogosphere and now sit here, sifting through my too many scattershot intentions with this, trying to remember all that I have been advised, wondering if I should just start the actual writing tomorrow instead. As challenging as the setup process was (what do they mean? 10 minutes and you are ready to go?! Who is ‘you’? Not me) it fades to a distant memory when faced with actually writing something that will be worth the space and time it takes to both create and read.

Do I look back at my past writings mostly in emails and letters, for my own explorations

and efforts to understand; do I pull pieces from the book that has triggered all this social media activity; do I write stream of consciousness; do I look for an article somewhere and write a piece directly relevant to that?

Probably over time all the above. For now I take a deep breath, right down deep I mean, and let it out slowly.  What is it I teach? What is it I know? It is not in my head that is for sure. It is in my inner wisdom, through my connection to Spirit. Let go of determining an answer, strip the away the questions and what is left? This.

Nicolas Carr has written a book called The Shallows. (see his blog: http://www.roughtype.com/) I have a collection of scribbled notes about it gathered whenever I heard interviews, read articles. Ironically as I am resonating with this, I have joined Facebook, Twitter, Linkedin and the blog world. I am also becoming aware I am not reading as many books as I used to, I scan the NYT online skipping through the headlines until I see a story that I decide to click open. I like The Week. I have NPR on all the time and the BBC World Round Up after that, half tuned in while I am writing, scanning, tidying. Something takes my attention and I stop for a moment to really listen but I still have one eye on the email.

Sometimes, I become engrossed in the writing, the creating and suddenly I realize I have been here for 3 hours and I am hearing the same news all over again! What happened?

I sank into one channel, if you like, let myself go deeply into that world without distraction, and wonderful new things emerged. Mr. Carr points out that short bursts of mental activity, often along several streams at once, is diminishing our capacity to just sit, and be. In my words, the capacity to contemplate on our own, engaging in philosophical-metaphysical roaming, or even simply to be in observational wonderment.

I live near Sedona, Arizona, surrounded by people both seeking and offering all types of spiritual opportunity. This is a microcosm of the searching that I believe is going on everywhere. As we become less able to just sit and be, so we become more anxious about our disconnection to that inner power, (unconsciously of course because we are too busy with distraction to even know that we are disconnected!) We dash about trying to connect – through classes, parties, work, religions, the social media. The real connection, however, is within and that requires time, focus, patience and, most of all, just letting go.

I have only made this connection after going out into the shimmering heat, and slowly feeding the horses, topping up their waters, spraying them for flies. That contemplative physical activity has to be done every day regardless of what else is happening. In the morning I also clean the yards, raking up manure and depositing it in the huge pile at the end of the lane. That kind of work keeps me grounded, gives me time to no-think, paying attention to the details of the work. Then suddenly, an awareness vibrates its way into my day and my writing.

So here I am. I let go of determining the answer, forgot the question and now I know what this blog is about. It is about uncovering and nurturing that inner connection, which in turn will connect you to everything.  From there the writing will come in all its variety.

Whew! And now I am going for a ride in the cooling evening. There is a little red-roan horse out there who has not been out for ages. Together we will find a shared rhythm riding over the red rock trails, under the sun and moon who are out at the same time, to the sounds of the day birds switching places with the night birds, and the creek rushing, undistracted from its path, over the rocks.