Please enable javascript in your browser to view this site!

Devotion in Action Scholarship Recipients 2017

annie-spratt-301015.jpg

I am so thrilled to announce this year's POC/LGBTQIA scholarship recipients for Devotion in Action. 

Khara @kharaperk
Tierrah @Ti3rrah_
Taylor @taydatottts
Taylor @sacredmujer

Taylor, Tierrah, Khara, and Taylor will be joining 10 others this August for a 6 month journey through creativity, consciousness, and community service.

Thank you to all those who applied. Every application was an honor to read. 

Only This Moment is Real

All that is real is this moment. This, right here, right now. This word on the page, this breath on my lips, this drumbeat of truth within my heart. But where is the mind? Does it not run forward and backward trying to make sense of what I can become and who I have been? Forward and backward, trying to fix or find everything that is already existing right now.

Here is the ultimate liberation: only this moment is real. Only this moment is real.

So I breathe. Only this moment is real. What a relief.
In this space, I feel the most complete reality: love.
It feels effortless, all-consuming, infinite.
Moments pass, this love persists.
Hours pass, this love persists.
Days pass, this love persists.
And then, my humanness falls on top of me.
Only this moment is real, but this moment is shit.
The illusion of this moment feels terrible. It is, after all, the divine lila (play) and this is just my role today.
This perspective reveals yet another attachment.  
I look around, I see myself as human. I see my expectations. I see my attachments.
I look within. I see myself as truth. I see myself as love. I see myself.
I look around, waves are splashing, the sea is churning.
I look within, the water is still like glass, unchanged.
Only this moment is real and all moments are the same.
I am everything and everything is me.
Within, I am unchanged in all moments.
Only this moment is real and this moment is infinite.

My Forest of Imagination

Today I am living in the thick forest of my imagination. Sometimes I stumble upon a meadow of wildflowers in here, sometimes I find hidden medicine beneath the trees, and every now and then I step right into a pile of shit.

I know this place well. I’ve spent years living here, perhaps, even more, time here than in the ‘real world.’ Sometimes I snap myself out of the daydream in my head to a perplexing reality. My forest is often much more luxurious than my physical reality, it’s far more intriguing, and definitely more fun. At any given moment it can whisk me away to its intoxicating land. Even as I type this words I feel it pulling on my leg pleading, “come play with me!” 

These daydreams may seem like an escape from reality, but I believe they are far more meaningful than a route out of town. It’s here in this world that I have learned exactly how to be myself. Here in this world I have created and destroyed so many versions of my life. Here in this world, I watch myself die, decay, and rot, then rise again as a whole new being.

This is precisely what I am witnessing today as I romp through the thick brush. Peering out over the edge of a fallen tree, I see her. There she is, grasping for air, hand reaching for the heavens, pleading, “please don’t let me die.”

It’s my job right now to study her. I cannot offer any assistance, it’s her time to go. All I can do is watch, listen, and do what I can to understand her. 

This is the most uncomfortable part of growth. The space between what was and what will be. The old way is dying, the new way has not been born. Oh yes, I am here, I am standing, but I have not yet been born. The me that is watching is a hollow shell waiting for life to enter. The me that is watching is as innocent as an embryo. What do I know about life in this physical world? Nothing yet.  

This is the most uncomfortable part of growth.

In the Valley of the Soul

Deep in the valley of the soul, I bathe, I breathe.
Wondering when the next stick of lighting will break the sky to touch me,
Teach me.
I meet the day with curiosity, breathing in the possibility
Of
All
That
Can
Be.
I reach inside, retrieve an ember, and watch it dance around me. 
Pieces of my flesh give way under the pressure of the sky
And again
I am whole
Deep in the valley of the soul.

Reclaiming Myself

This morning over coffee Daren and I talked about my process of reclaiming my artist self. As we talked, I realized that for the past few years I have been focused on helping others tell their story, and now it's time for me to tell mine. 
I love assisting in people's journeys to truth & self, *and* I have so much to share from my own journey. This reclamation is me claiming a life in a 'yes, and' world. It's my journey to find the balance between helping others tell their story, & continuing to create mine.
I have so much to share and I am ready to bring you all into /my/ inner world through my art. 
When teaching I feel it's important to take a back seat to my students. Their path to truth is unique so I do my very best to guide &assist from behind, allowing them to choose their own way. While this has been fulfilling in many ways, it has also left me feeling empty in places that once overflowed.
Art has been a passion of mine since I knew what it was. I always had to seek it out& fight for it's presence in my life because I didn't come from a family that cared much about it. For many, many years (far longer than healing work) I poured over fine art books, melted onto the pristine floors of galleries, and identified as an artist. I interned as a junior curator at The Albright Knox gallery in Buffalo, NY during high school, which pulled me even deeper into my love of how a clean white wall can tell the most intimate story in the most clever ways.
Today I still hold that softness for a gallery, &I've been seduced by the way fine art can live &breath in our daily lives. I love the way we can pluck an artists treasure from that clean wall& drop it into the center of a bustling cafe, adorning somebody's body. @zelmarose is such a beautiful example of this. Whenever I wear a piece of hers (like the necklace pictured) people approach me &say "what is that /thing/ you're wearing?" People don't understand if it's a necklace or fine art &just the possibility that the two could coexist seems to throw minds so far from their comfort zone. 
This is just a little snippet of what I'm excited to share with you in the coming years. 
There's more to say but I'm out of room...

Every Day I Wake

All I can do right now, and forever, is bow down to the grace of infinity.
Bow down with humility and trust the ground beneath me.
Everyday I wake, breathing. Everyday my feet touch solid ground as I rise. Everyday I have food to eat, water to drink, a warm bed to sleep in, and love in every direction I turn. 
So I bow in gratitude to this sacred land that provides all I need. Thank you. May we live our lives to honor you fully every day.