Grounding + Becoming
A Soulspace Wisdom Cross-Pollination
Listen for what is already in you, the seed within reaching toward sunlight
What I need for the terrain ahead seems to be mysteriously sprinkled around me days, weeks, months, or even years before I need it. There is an inexplicable resonance—a knowing that doesn’t conform to my linear timeline and context.
I recognize it.
Wisdom cannot be known with the mind alone; it animates within me. I am known, and I know.
And still, I forget.
Practices draw me back to the center. I return. I drink deeply. I remember.
There is spaciousness inside to keep going.
Follow what draws you.
Notice what stirs.
What is recognition like for you?
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And here it is, unbound
A whole world exists on the underside, showing us something different, hidden in the dark. An audio poetry reading by Kirsten Harrison.
Recognition: An Invitation to Now
Gratitude surges as I realize the only word my lips remember is the only key that unlocks this door.
Presents: An Audio Reading of Norman MacCaig’s Poem
“This is a call from your soul, awakening your life to new possibilities.” —John O’Donohue. Listen to Kirsten read Norman MacCaig’s poem, Presents.
Two: A Meditation by Bruno Barnhart
A Wisdom Collage: Bruno Barnhart meditation read-aloud by Kirsten, an evocative image, and a cover of Everyday Life by Audrey Assad and Moda Spira. What catches your heart’s eye?
The Maximum: An Audio Meditation
A contemplative audio invitation to the now. Kirsten Harrison reads “The Maximum” from Bruno Barnhart’s Second Simplicity as a spacious practice for presence and deep listening.
Montana Sky Time, An Audio Reading
Kirsten reads Montana Sky Time by Rob Baker in a voice memo.
Re-Member Yourself: A Note From Kirsten + A Poem About Holding Obscurity
When obscurity rises, and
you cannot see where to step next,
your gaze turns ever-so-slightly outward.
Oh, how humbling it is to be human!
Strong Winds Pose No Threat, A Dimensionally-Layered Practice
Vibrant beauty that once took away breath is a backdrop now; you search for novel sacraments.
He Wished to See the Teacher: A Poem and Collage to Listen With
He is one of many who,
while walking the road of daily-ness,
catches a fragrance
so tantalizing, so familiar
like no other thing there are categories for,
and cannot not follow it.
What if losing one’s way from time to time is the way?
Has anything ever been more clear? Anything more obscure?
Lean Your Heart in Close
Friends, I mustn’t tell you the way,
but lean your heart in close;
I'll cover my whisper.
I Think I Get It Now
At the sudden realization of my error, my heart sinks; my face burns hot and red.
Can you still reach your stubborn hope?
You can't see beyond the next step, but you know what it feels like to let go. It’s time to sense into that knowing.
Why I BeReal
Every single day,
a call to connection arrives on my phone.
The task is simple —
take a selfie
and then hold still
for one more photo —
the view from
where I am.
Is There A Place?
Love is always a flow. How do we hold these powerful forces with care? Is there a place one can go to say "I'm on fire..."
And Still, I Burn, A Poem About Longing
Every so often, I’m visited by a traveling itch.
I push up my sleeve and scratch deeply,
but this itch is a deft matador.
I See You, and I’m Not Going Anywhere
Here's a poem of grounding, written from myself to myself. These words are an anchor to guide my home.
