BLOG 97—(present reflections tied to May 2001 journal entries about my healing journey)—The crows flocked to the bare tree branches of winter, and then, within seconds, flew off to become black wings against the clear blue skies of New Mexico. They came as quickly as they left, together, in a rhythm that reminded me that yes, there is a divine order that is always present—even during the hardest times like those we’ve lived this past year of 2020.
Today, it is Winter Solstice, the longest night of the year, and a time in which all of my worries, my trying to manifest, to make life happen, surrendered, into the cool air. There is a way, and it is here, in every moment and breath. All of the insecurities I felt earlier this month, all of the doubts, faded away, as I marveled at the magic that has always been with me and all of us.
I think back to 20 years ago, in the Spring of 2001, when I still struggled to walk, and was locked inside muscles that had learned to grip and distrust life and its gifts. Back then, I had written, “Life grows from the question, from a love for the mystery, not the answer. It grows from experience, not finality, science, concreteness of analysis. Loving something makes it whole.”
Soon we step into 2021, having completed a year in which each one of us has faced the deepest uncertainty about life we could ever have imagined. We have faced fears of becoming extremely sick, stuck, alone, limited, isolated, unworthy, lost. Some have lost so much, loved ones, jobs, security. But throughout it all, there’s a life that has continued to give of itself, and has stood here, still and magical, ready to unveil the mystery of a divine order.
This year, I sent 60-plus cards to loved ones, and in one instance, to a complete stranger. Each card, I painted, shared myself in, and invited a better 2021 for everyone. It felt so rich to do so this time, as if everything during these co-vid days has taken on more depth, more importance. Because maybe each one of us has tasted a bit more of how precious this life we have been given truly is.
I sent one of my hand-painted cards to a complete stranger, as did many others just because one very heartfelt person had invited me and so many others to send cards to her friend with health issues. Another of my dearest friends told me today that she had almost cried upon receiving one of my cards—I had intuitively decided to send her a painted one that reminded her of a dream she had had and what she had gone through when she had contracted co-vid. Another friend echoed back to me that my card had been magical.
As I watched the crows flying today, I couldn’t help but think of the wonder of this universe…how each action has a reaction, each gift we give produces an echo that receives its beauty in return. Because, like I had written in 2001, “Life grows from the question…from the mystery… from the experience. Loving something makes it whole.”
Maybe this year of 2020, with all of its challenges, was necessary. Maybe it was crucial that we began to let go of the harsh grip we had placed on reality and ourselves, and we begin to trust in the divine order of the universe. Maybe it was time to stop controlling so much, and to finally listen to that deep presence that is the gift we give and receive in this grand place of life.
As we prepare for 2021, I am in awe of how we are truly capable of creating a magnificent echo in the universe…each one of us in our small, but heartfelt ways. I am personally excited to bring my new children’s books into the world, and I trust that their gift will make this place a little bit better, as will all of our gifts.
I really believe we can do it, each one of us…sprinkle the world with our unique light and laughter…to make the world a better place. For, I feel that this past year, many of us have learned what it means to come together, to help one another, to love, to remember that this moment is all we’ve got.
So, together, with as much heart as we can muster, let’s make 2021 a year to remember! Let it be one marked by how we came together and chose love!
My Novel, Child of Duende: A Journey of the Spirit, https://www.amazon.com/Child-Duende-Journey-Michelle-Adam/dp/099724710X/ref=sr_1_1?dchild=1&keywords=child+of+duende&qid=1608620759&sr=8-1, is a story of returning home to the earth inside and all around us. It’s now also available in Spanish as Niña Duende: Un Viaje del Espíritu, through the Spanish publisher Corona Borealis https://coronaborealis.es/producto/nina-duende-un-viaje-del-espiritu/ and as Duende: Guardiã da Terra with the Portuguese publisher, Edições Mahatma https://edicoesmahatma.pt/pesquisa?controller=search&orderby=position&orderway=desc&search_query=duende&tm_submit_search= .
Please celebrate the magic of this life by supporting these different book editions. Also, watch a brief video on “duende”, “the spirit of the earth”: YouTube Video
Yet, ironically, in order to heal, in order to let God, or that divine energy we call God, move through us, we actually have to let go, to soften our grip, and let life in. That’s when the creative flow and restoration returns. That’s when we feel the divine within us, and it is this very energy that holds us.
How ironic is it that we, as a world, have most recently been asked to slow down, or at least more than ever before? And why? So new life can come in? So God can come in? So we can come into balance after years of being so contracted and not feeling held in our rush to dominate and survive? And what is it that is possible now?
sick and dying, for those without the resources and friends to help them through this, for the emptiness we would feel, and for all of our lives forever altered. I sensed a kind of death, an end–for now–to all the running and running of this world. And inside this space, I felt we would need to look at ourselves, and reflect on what this crazy modern-living paradigm has been all about.
strongly. There wasn’t time for most people to check in, to see how I was, to have compassion for someone in a vulnerable place. And so, back then, 20 years ago, I stepped into my own cocoon, into my own aloneness, and reached out to God for answers that would help me walk again.
And it won’t. But, I discovered then, as I feel now, that the GRIEF, that energy below the fear, which I carried, was of having been on the treadmill of life far too long, and feeling an immense loss of soul and self from all of the going, going, going. And in this process of slowing down—whether then or now—there’s this immense grief of being with ourselves, of truly being with ourselves—with the pain, the nightmares, the stories our soul and body long to tell us, to guide us through, so we can come home again.
n the television, absorbed in his own world. And I was sitting there, not only in pain from having pulled a muscle, but from having flown this far south from my New Mexico home to be with my father, whose emotional absence in the other room only made me feel more alone.
be a girl, and later, what it means to be a woman, become extremely confusing.
Superbowl half-time. On one hand, these two women owned their sexuality and weren’t afraid to show this. I remember as young woman how I had worked hard to “own” my own sexuality as a way of owning my own power (not waiting for someone to bring it out in me or to see and love me first). It was a way of owning my own body, or not being afraid to be a woman (and not to be in the shadow of my own insecurities). So, when these two women danced, I saw it as them owning their own sexuality, sensuality and aliveness. At the same time, did the fact that these two women danced in a sexual way take away from others seeing them in their talent and their greater soul essence?
e time. Back then, in the 1960s, he was denounced as an extremist, as so many of us are when our dreams threaten the current establishment. But Martin Luther King Jr. was undeterred and his dream inspired a movement toward equal rights and human dignity for all men and women.
ocent voice in a cynical world. 
we had as children, that immense wisdom that we once had that knows there’s a much better place than the one we’ve been born into? Why must we wait for people like Martin Luther King Jr. to lead us, or our younger generation today, like the Greta Thunbergs of the world, to tell us that we, as adults, are not doing enough and need to do more? 
ecome far too accustomed to.
) die in your arms and to carry her around with you everywhere you go because she has given you life. She is what reminds you everyday to cry, to give reverence for what was and is. She is the one who gives us humanity and allows us to deepen ourselves,” I reflected 20 years ago. “I needed to hear that silence between two breaths to look at her, to feel the sadness of this child, to forgive her for all her attempts at love, all her attempts at greatness, all the running that left her (and me) empty because she only knew how to live one way. Then, I needed to give her back to that place of vitality from which she grew, to give her an honorable death, to let go of these old ways.”
eath—of its weight, its story, its trauma—so we can make room for the next!
know what power or being in our power means. We come into the world needing food, water, love…all the basics…and we rely on those who raise us to provide these necessities so we can grow strong. Some of us are more fortunate than others. I see many of my students come from families who nourish them well, yet others struggle to grow in what seems like an asphalt of a childhood.
al connection to the earth. It cuts us off from source, like plants attempting to grow from above the ground.”
ue selves? How do we stop giving our power to others and stand inside ourselves with love?
th.”
of unbridled greed sinks its claws into more power and wealth; and as more and more of the same short-sighted living leads to the destruction of life for all of us on this planet called Earth. And I look at my own busy life, from teaching, writing, and publishing, and I think how special it was to have truly stopped 20 years ago, to have stepped off of that train of life (even if it was by kicking and screaming) and to have sat still long enough, as Neruda described, to “interrupt this sadness of never understanding ourselves”
“Permission is in the shadows. Answers are what I have invented, what I have held onto so tightly, in order to fill the silence of myself. The true answers are in the space of waiting for clarity to present its gift to me.”
what life’s pain was able to teach me. Those years gave me wisdom and love (and a novel, Child of Duende), which grew within me because I had to face myself, day in and day out, with nowhere to hide. Every time I tried to run from my pain, to solve the problem in front of me, I faced a mirror that was myself…that part of me that is as small as a grain of sand, and as large as the universe…that part of me that is nature, that is life, that is love. Then all the lessons, all the shoulds of this fast-moving train of modern life, shed from my skin, from my bones, to leave me with a delicious taste of a deep silence, a deep stillness where life speaks and continues to speak, even today, when I slow down to listen.
enues. My journey to Spain was a homecoming, a return to the land that had shown me my soul. And this time I came with my novel, written while in the U.S., a kind of exile from that home.
with, yet couldn’t. I got how a part of me had, as they say in the shamanic world, lost a part of my soul when I came to the U.S. and needed to survive.
with us so we can be our full soul-selves in our bodies. Then, and only then, can we experience true joy for living.
thyme; where the passion reigned in the marketplace; and where, as a child, I awakened a deep connection to the land and the culture. This place, called Spain, I now return, as I once promised myself, to bring a gift of my novel, Niña Duende: Un Viaje del Espíritu, and her story that belongs to the land and her people. I’ll be presenting my novel with Flamenco guitar in Madrid, Murcia, Málaga, and Granada. I’m also offering a writing workshop in Málaga. Please join me if you can for this special book tour in the land I love that wrote my story.
Michelle Adam 