I first met Erin Robinson at the Alchemists Breakfast at the 2017 DENT Conference. I instantly liked her down-to-earth style and, turns out, she has many of the same interests as me. We instantly clicked. After breakfast, I noticed her name tag said Colorado as we continued our conversation. I explained that Boulder was on my bucket list of places to bring the “Sage Spirit” and perhaps late August would be a nice time for that, since it would also coincide with the launch of White Wild Indigo. She said she had the perfect place.
I wrote this poem in the wake of the heartbreaking news of the Orlando night club incident last summer, however I’m once again reminded of these words after the news of the Las Vegas shooting this weekend. These incomprehensible tragedies have shocked and saddened me beyond belief. I didn’t think this is where we would be in the world. It’s overwhelming.
About a year ago, I wrote this post on Gluten Free Sage about inspiration and why inspiration matters. It began with happy memories of the pop culture years of the late ’60s and how they kept popping up throughout my days—as either a wistful thought or nostalgic feeling. This seemed too much of a coincidence. I wanted to investigate further. Then more synchronicities occurred and I found myself suddenly following an exciting line of action and reaction. My soul was sending me on a journey.
I wrote this poem early yesterday morning inspired by the sacred space of first light—the time of day when light first appears, but before the sun rises. When you’re all alone in the morning, you’re able to consciously embrace the calm and the quiet all around you. This silence allows you to focus on self-reflection and opens you up for inspiration.
I feel like everyday at first light is precious. I wake early almost every day just to savor this sacred moment.
The natural world has so many advantages from inspiration to health benefits. The best gift I’ve received from exploring the majesty of this impressive world we live in and its royal beauty is how it opened up my heart to writing poetry, and to my inner artist.
I write in bits and short bursts—sort of what it feels like to wiggle in and out of boulders as you climb up a mountain. The greatness of the colors, the mountain air, the peace, the blues and earthy hues enhance my thoughts and turn off the distractions; then it all comes spilling out like one of those narrow creeks down the side of the mountain after a big rain.