September 11: The Soul Knows the Way

The Soul knows the Way. She always does. So Stop and Listen.

Today is 20 years after 9/11. It’s 20 years since the United States was paralyzed, even if for just a few moments, by terrorists that took down our greatest symbol or “reaching for the stars”. Terrorists terrorized and stopped us in our tracks in ways that we had terrorized so many countries as well.

This blog isn’t about politics though. Anyone who knows the history of imperialism understands what I’m referring to. This is a blog about the soul. Because no matter how fast we get, no matter how successful, or how well we reach for the stars–as the U.S. has done and we have done as individuals–there comes a point in which we need to stop and get humble. There comes a point when the soul wins, when life wins, and all the rest, no matter how good or amazing it looks, doesn’t matter.


So, I find it ironic, that today, on September 11, I find myself being called to slow down again. For me, my soul’s call comes through my body. I feel fatigued, exhausted, and my throat seizes up. I feel sick. I have no energy but to sit and be still. To rest.

When Covid-19 braced the world, we were all asked to stop once again, as was I. For some, it became a threat to our freedom–as was 9/11–but for others, like me, it was another call of the SOUL. Stop. Stop. When we don’t listen to that call, and we choose to just push through or fight back, that soul’s call comes back again and again. Unfortunately, the call gets stronger, it hurts more, as it did for me 20-plus years ago.

Today, 20 years after 9/11, that soul’s call has gotten much louder. We are facing global floods and fires and natural disasters are becoming more devastating each day. We can try to do the same: fight back, push through. Or, this time, we can get that it’s time for all of us, for our planet, to STOP and listen. It’s time be become humble enough to listen and do what is needed to bring balance to our lives and our planet before it is to late.

Stopping doesn’t mean not acting with beauty and love in the world or not doing our part in this life. It just means taking a minute or more to sit down in a way we haven’t in a while–maybe in our favorite comfortable chair we’ve ignored in your rush–and listen to the birds, be still inside, outside, and feel what is. I will end this blog with Pablo Neruda, the Chilean Poet, who said it better than I can in his poem entitled, “A Callarse” (“Keeping Still”):

Now we will count to twelve / and let’s keep quiet. / For once on earth / let’s not talk in any language; / let’s stop for one second, / and not move our arms so much. A moment like that would smell sweet, / no hurry, no engines, / all of us at the same time / in need of rest. Fishermen in the cold sea / would stop harming whales / and the gatherer of salt / would look at his hurt hands. Those who prepare green wars, / wars with gas, wars with fire, / victories with no survivors, / would put on clean clothes / and go for a walk with their brothers / out in the shade, doing nothing. Just don’t confuse what I want / with total inaction; / it’s life and life only; / I’m not talking about death. If we weren’t so single-minded / about keeping our lives moving / and could maybe do nothing for once / a huge silence might interrupt this sadness / of never understanding ourselves, / of threatening ourselves with death; / perhaps the earth could teach us; / everything would seem dead / and then be alive. Now I will count up to twelve / and you keep quiet / and I will go».

Thank you for reading. Blessings to all of you… 🙂

Michelle Adam

Check out my recent children’s story, Adventures with Duende in the Ocean, a journey of an elf and a young boy, Nico, into the Ocean. This is part of a series of stories that take children into different realms of the earth in a honor of our Mother Earth and caring for her. My Novel, Child of Duende: A Journey of the Spirit, 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 and as Duende: Guardiã da Terra with the Portuguese publisher, Edições Mahatma 

Confessions: A Night of Creative Awakening and a Writing Offering

10/28/2017: I have a confession: yes, I love the night. I really do. (I will return to regular blog shortly) 

Although I adore the sun, I love when his golden light fades into the sunset and modernity’s fierce flame of urgency disappears. Yes, this flame disappears and the feminine darkness invites me into her subtle, soft, creative juices, where I bathe for hours, like a rebel against the insanity of today’s world.

No one is watching when I light a candle of my own inside this dim, but potent night. She reveals to me a restless urge inside, a longing to return to source, and be the creative life-song that comes from within. I sow the seeds that require darkness and the spirits of the night to begin germination inside my belly. I listen to my dreams, to the unraveling

Painting by my ancestor, Frida Kraemer, wife of one of many family artists. I love the sense of freedom of this painting.  

of my consciousness, to places inside, of barbed wire pressing against my heart, my wings. I discover what I must do to untangle this mess we’ve been taught to be, and make way for a new dawn of love, of being the creator of our own destiny.

This morning, I let the sun dance in the sky as I stayed with my dreams, easing my way into daylight. No rush. Nothing to prove as I used to do years ago. I am free. We are free. We can all be free in ways we’ve long forgotten.

Writing has been a path toward this freedom for me, a place of deep meditation with my soul’s longing. I imagine it has also been from my dear author friend and children’s book writer, Burt Kempner, who will be traveling from Florida to here, New Mexico, to offer with me a Shamanic Writing Workshop on Saturday, November 4th, from 2-4:45p.m. at Tortuga Gallery. This is a unique chanceWriting Class with Burt.jpg (1) for Burt and I to work together and offer this journey of the soul and a taste of that freedom I speak of.

If you are in Albuquerque, New Mexico, next Saturday, November 4th, please join us. This may be a one-time offering with Burt, who comes with such an immense heart of the imagination and award-winning talent as a children’s book author and television producer (he has produced shows on PBS, Discovery, History Channel, and CNBC). I also bring with me my own experience leading healing circles and classes, and Flamenco performances with my novel, Child of Duende: A Journey of the Spirit, here in New Mexico and in Washington State, California, and Argentina.

In this almost-three-hour workshop, Burt and I will take you on a journey to awaken your soul’s voice through writing, and help you discover, explore, and write the voices and matrix of ourselves and all of life–the animals, wind, water–that coexist with us on this earth. Our intention is to invite you to experience writing as a process of connecting to the life within and all around us in a shared, rich manner.

My heart is tender, my wings soft, in my offer to join us, Burt Kempner and I, next Saturday. I am honored to share this place of surrender, of the feminine creative force that awakens within us in the night, in the dark, in the stillness that carries our longing for another way. I feel we have all been so busy, running around, doing “life” in this modern, insane way, and I so I look forward to time inward, together, exploring who we really are.

Upcoming Shamanic Writing Workshop information: at 2-4:45 p.m., Saturday, Nov. 4, 2017, at Tortuga Gallery, 901 Edith Blvd., SE, Albuquerque, NM 87012 (Park on Pacific Ave.). No writing experience needed. $30.00. RSVP at or 505 923 0649 or at Facebook event page ( Facebook Shamanic Writing Event Page )

Also, for more information on My Novel, Child of Duende: A Journey of the Spirit, see my Amazon Page  or It can be ordered at a local bookstore as well. Also, watch a brief video on “duende”, “the spirit of the earth”: YouTube Video



53. Hunger Sleeps Sweet Ashes in my Chest

BLOG 53: June, 1999—Imagine yourself stuck, with little capacity to move, with nowhere to go, nothing to accomplish. Just you. Alone. Would you be able to be still? Would you be still enough inside to feel your spiritual hunger?

Almost twenty years ago, while living in my parents’ home in New Jersey, that was my story. But being still enough to hear my own longing was anything but easy. I struggled to walk, but slowing down inside, being still, remained an immense challenge.

“I hear a voice on the radio in the other room, the sound of a busy world. It distracts me. It makes it hard to hear my hunger. It numbs my existence once more, and builds within me a hunger that so often reappears in extremes, in grand desires to escape the chaos and find a place of stillness to hear myself,” I wrote in my new journal I had just dedicated to hunger itself. “This is the modern world after all. This is the challenge we all face in hearing and addressing our hunger. What once was with us every day as a joyful hunger or longing has become a kind of ravaging ghost that you and I don’t know how to see, yet we feel it grab at us, tease us, make us restless.”

Back then, hunger was a kind of longing for what I couldn’t have in the moment no matter what I did. I wrote, “I can address my hunger by relocating, in my mind, the places where hunger was most awake, most present, and in ways, sweetly: the fields in Spain, the long b6cc3f020432ec5efd545b633828c5b9waiting for God to appear, for a voice to speak to me before a magnificent landscape; driving west out into desert, wide-open skies; or more magnificently, standing on the mountains, the Sandias, watching the bright white clouds, like cotton balls, spreading their wings throughout the entire stone and tree landscape; or driving, driving along the roads of New Mexico, chasing the clouds, with pinks, blues, oranges, purples, tormenting the skies with a surreal godliness that I longed to reach, to hold onto, in my most humble way, by driving, driving, and not slowing down.”

Then, when I found moments to be still enough to feel my hunger, to hear the words that wrote stories into my novel, I traveled inward to faraway lands. “Hunger, she sleeps sweet ashes in my chest, a silence longing for itself,” I wrote the lines of a brief poem. “I hear her stumbling sounds in my heart. I listen and I write.”

With nowhere to go, I wrote, and I allowed words to be my meditation. It’s no different today, as I sit here sharing my reflections of past and present. After a week of moving too quickly for my soul’s pace, and prior, with a month’s time with m1e98d8e0a905478eea6d6f086bf020b7y family and father before his passing, I cherish coming back to this page. Back to you: stillness and hunger.

When I was crippled by pain, my time of
forced meditation—of writing my novel and discovering the story inside “the remotest mansions of my blood”—was a blessing of sorts. I lived inside a cage that required the inside come out. But, now, as I share my novel, travel to be with family, and juggle teaching, writing, and bringing my art into the world, there seems so little time for slowing down. The hunger remains, but its more subtle, less drastic. The hunger is for the quiet, for the listening inside, for a place of presence that can’t be found in all the running around.

It’s found here, though, as I write, as I watch the moon rise, as I let the sound of all this technology, all this doing, be taken over by bird song crawling along the vines in front of my New Mexico home. The song has always been here. The moon, she has always been here lighting the night sky. Yet I am the one who has changed.  In making time, as once I was forced to do, to feel into this stillness that carries my hunger, I can find my way back to me, to all that I has always waited for us inside this presence.

*My novel, Child of Duende: A Journey of the Spirit, is a story of following this hunger home. Check it out on Amazon: Amazon Page  or at Also, watch a brief video on “duende”, “the spirit of the earth”: YouTube Video