Yesterday my daughter and I drove a precarious winding road along the yawning dry scrub canyons of Malibu.  It’s hard to imagine why this is considered an ultimate rich place for famous people to live.  Driving up those ridges without any guardrails or even much space between you and the tumbling caverns, induces more of a rush than most drugs I remember (hmm, maybe that’s why).

But the view is breathtaking too.  Huge molded sandstone monoliths with soft gaping caves and wide windows carved out by thousands of years of wind.  Remnants of stone walls, house and car destroyed by landslide and the elements.  The land rolling and tumbling, falling and pushing even to the wide sea beneath the mist.

Pausing my mind, I am able to view the landscape of myself.  An easy fearless look in the mirror, learning to approach the edge of each cliff of shame, insecurity and desperate addiction with kindness and awe.  A soft prayer, a settled breath of a listening pause, and gentle self-examination is the path I trudge to manifest today this exquisite life.

As a gecko scurries so fast and stares so intently, my mindful moments run.