My time is coming to an end in the desert.  I have ridden its hills and valleys and have always stopped at the top, standing tall and triumphant.  What an accomplishment for this prairie girl!  But I do remember that I once was a mountain girl.  My village in China was named Mountain Top.

I am grateful for the blessings of the desert – the peace and stillness, the moon and stars, the magnificent sunsets, the sunshine and the warmth.  I will go home feeling rested, restored and comforted by nature’s arms.

I will remember my time in the desert, the place where I slowly learn to let go of all except for the present moment.  How difficult and easy it is at the same time…to stay here in this moment, however it is.  But I have learned to climb the mountains of elation and to face the canyons of my mind.  And I am still here, breathing and whole in the desert.



I am cold this morning in the desert.  I tried to do my quigong outside but my breath would not come.  I could not be in the moment.  How could that be?

But I gave in and came into the warmth.  Then I was able to be somewhat one with my breath and finished my morning routine.  Ahhhhh!  Some relief.

I am learning to relax into the mysteries of the desert and life.  I am learning to embrace Jon Kabat-Zinn’s Whole Catastrophe Living – that it is about ALL of life, the good, bad, and ugly.  There is a reason for everything.

Slowly, I am quieting myself.  I am steadying myself, staying within myself with ease and not wandering out, lost in the desert.  I have trust in myself and the universe.

I am cool in the desert this morning.  I am missing the snow of home, Sheba’s happy face, our morning runs and hot chocolate after.  But I am getting warmer in the desert.  I am happy and content.



Time in the desert moves slowly but surely.  Silence is all around me.  I can hear the echo of my heartbeat.  Peace is all around me.  I gaze down at my own private Grand Canyon.  How lucky am I in this place at this time.

The sun warms my face in the daytime.  It lights up the world and I can see for miles around.  At night, the moon is bright overhead.  The stars twinkle merrily in the velvety dark.  I can see the belt of the Orion.  How expansive and rich is the universe!

I inhale and exhale.  I am grateful in the desert.



Though it is a month before Lent, it is no surprise nor an accident that I find myself in the desert.  I am once again lost in the wilderness, wandering up the lonesome road, trying to find my way, looking for my words.

I have lost my words these last while.  They have disappeared from my fingertips.  It is a struggle to recover and grasp them again.  It is not a bad thing to feel the silence and the stillness.  It is not a bad thing to sit, wait and to listen to the quiet.

There is time.  No need to rush.  No need to despair.  I have 30 days in the desert.  There is time to breathe, exhale, count my heartbeats and march to my own drum.  There is time to live,  love and gather the sacred sage.