"I will not die an unlived life"




I will not die an unlived life I will not live in fear of falling Or of catching fire I choose to inhabit my days To allow my living to open me Making me less afraid More accessible To loosen my heart So that it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise I choose to risk my significance. To live so that that which comes to me as seed Goes to the next as blossom And that which comes to me as blossom Goes on as fruit. -Dawna Markova


My husband calls me a "quick start." It was actually a label assigned to me as a characterization, after one of those on-line personality quizzes. I have always feared heights. The ferris wheel at the cache county fair, made my central nervous system scream out loud, a test of my emergency broadcast system.

 I watched my daughter jump out of an airplane at 13,000 feet and fall to the earth, to find on the ground a marriage proposal romantically, rehearsed. It was on that day, that my emergency broadcast system flat lined. I was standing in the center of time, in one moment holding my daughters hand before she boarded the plane that would carry her into the sky, and in the very next moment, watching her walk away holding the hand of her future husband. As my eyes looked to the heavens, I could see the tiny blue and white parachute that was carrying my first born child to the earth. I had to put all of my faith in that fabric, and the man attached to her back. This delivery, was like a stork flying through the sky, but she was being handed off to her man. The exhilaration and joy that created this moment, changed me.  The "quick start" in me was awake and on fire, I knew in that instant that I too, would need to throw my body from a plane, and conquer my ultimate fear. Exactly one week later, I strapped the very same man to my back, and trusted that same fabric parachute to deliver me to the earth, alive! 
Without the man, I would have not been able to exit the plane. He leaned forward and with a push, I was falling from the sky at 13,000 feet. The free fall was aggressive, and exhilarating, the wind velocity, pushed my cheeks to the back of my head. I was falling to the earth, and I was so happy! I knew I would land on the ground, but I breathed a little deeper when the parachute opened, and softened the fall. 

This is how I have always taken on life. In a quick start sort of way. I don't plan out scenarios, I almost never have a back up plan. When I get an idea that seems good, I stand on the edge of the unknown, and jump. Most of the time, that inner voice that throws me from the edge, is full of wisdom, and I land with grace. But there are times, when my plan fails, when my jump is a mess, I crash. I learn in those moments how "NOT" to do it again, and always come away with insight. This is how I roll. I need wide open spaces to explore, and enter at my own risk.  


I will not die an unlived life I will not live in fear of falling Or of catching fire I choose to inhabit my days To allow my living to open me Making me less afraid More accessible To loosen my heart So that it becomes a wing, a torch, a promise I choose to risk my significance. To live so that that which comes to me as seed Goes to the next as blossom And that which comes to me as blossom Goes on as fruit. -Dawna Markova




Wanderlust, Taking me away...calling me back!


These prodigious trees bubble and ooze with mythic learnings and life lessons. I learned that many of these giants are as old as 2000 years, and some even older. That is a large number, but when I put it into perspective, it's really quite phenomenal. If you consider that the average life span of a man is 74, then 27 generations of ancestors, have beheld and touched the very same trees that I did. I wonder if there were even humans inhabiting this land that long ago. I find it difficult to not have total reverence    for the grandness of what this forest is. 


Another fascinating fact, the pine cone produced by these skyscraper sized trees, is no larger than a quarter. These tiny little cones grow into a dizzying height 327 feet, taller than a 37 story building. They are also more viable as they age.  The seeds of a 1200 year old tree, have a greater chance of producing new growth. Only 10% of these seeds will ever germinate because they are ancestral by nature. 
This is the best part of the story for me. Due to a lack of resin, and high water content in the bark, these trees can withstand the fires that sweep the forest floor clean. There are several trees that are hollowed out by fire. You can literally stand in the center, some with room for a bed and miraculously it is a living breathing tree. It speaks to the heros journey, the trials and sufferings that we endure. How many fires and scars mar our lives yet we still continue to grow and learn? They are also able to survive flooding by growing a new higher root system. Due to the shallow nature of these roots, the trees are vulnerable to high winds and can be toppled causing death. But do they really die? Once a tree has been knocked down or "died" the burls that grow on the exterior are stimulated, and a ring of daughter trees sprout up in a circle around the "mother" tree. Her root system continues to stimulate their growth, as they ascend towards the sky looking for the sun. This fact, makes these trees ancestral.  Most of the forest, has grown from its mother for generations. There is speculation, that if you trace the origin of certain trees, they will trace back to the age of dinosaurs. 

I lost my mother when I just a young girl. As I researched and learned about these trees, It was like nature telling me my own story. My mother "died" but is she ever really "gone?" Does her root system continue to offer support and growth to her daughter? And what about the grandmothers? It's the only way I can explain the miracles and protections that have shown up for me time and time again. I can literally be hollowed out feeling gutted by the shadows of life, but do I continue to grow, prosper and learn? Do I become better with age? Is my wisdom more viable as life adds a new ring to my trunk? Does that space created on the interior allow for new perceptions and learning to take up residency in my hollow bones? At dawn and dusk, if your in the right place, the soft filtered light of the sun, shoots like an arrow through the thick plumage from above and illuminates these hollow spaces. 
Inside a fallen hollowed tree.

Still living, this tree has been partially hollowed.

Grandfather Tree, Wanderlust!

If given the chance, I recommend a visit to this wonder of nature. There are so many life lessons on display in the sacred stillness of this forest floor. It's a meditation that takes you to the place where fairy tales are written. It's from this place, that my soul is in communion with nature, and I can "see" me! It was here that I offered the deepest level of gratitude for every fire, flood, and logging that entered my doors, where I invited them in as guests as guides from beyond! 

Heaven, is in every place that takes your breath away!