Pottery wheeling is hard! Observing thoughts takes practice. And in a way, the two are related. Just as the wheel keeps spinning, controlled by a foot pedal, our thoughts keep spinning in our minds. When creating something (or nothing) from a lump of clay, we control the speed and direction. Similarly, we can learn to control the pace of our thoughts and detach from them. Thoughts can create something negative or, when left to spin out, can create nothing—often a more peaceful outcome.

The scenario of a client candidly responding to my inquiry as to how they were doing resulted in the response of: "I am of an unpleasant disposition." This has prompted an ongoing reflection on the authenticity of our interpersonal interactions…

Listening to a recent podcast about mysticism, I was struck by a particular line: "know it by heart." What this phrase typically implies is that we don’t have to consciously think about something; we simply know it intuitively. For instance, riding a bike is an activity many of us know ‘by heart.’ Once we've learned how to ride, it becomes a deeply ingrained skill that remains readily accessible within us, allowing us to effortlessly pick it up again even years or decades later…

Stepping into the verdant haven, I felt the weight of the week melt away. Squirrels frolicked, rabbits peeked from shadows, quails scurried along paths, and a roadrunner paused to share my lunchtime solitude. Each rustling leaf, each sun-kissed blossom, whispered secrets of resilience and joy.

The season's radiant light reminds us all to breathe, to weave moments of connection with ourselves and each other. The full moon whispers, and regardless of religious orientation, the season speaks a universal truth: light disperses darkness effortlessly.

I lay there, basking in the warmth of my granddaughter's heartfelt compliment, "Gram, you're a bright star." The words tumble out, pure and unadulterated, touching a chord deep within me, stirring a wellspring of love and gratitude..

Returning from the spiritual splendor of India, I have noticed a shift in my pattern of showing up, attuning to what serves me and where to serve, and what to release. All without thinking about it and instead, trusting this inner wisdom that steps forth to be the guide.

Have you considered your comfort level with risk? There are various types of risk; ordering a new item on the menu, having a conversation that invites vulnerability, driving 120 mph (just saying, not suggesting). Depending on our willingness to step out of our comfort zone, and our perspective as to consequences, are all part of what influences our relationship with taking chances. With getting to know who we are, and who we are not.

The United States is a nation of hoarders. We spend about $58 billion dollars a year on the storage industry. This means, on average, every person in this country has 6 square feet of storage space. We are a people who are attached to our possessions, …We do not want to part with our ….

There is a natural flow in the Universe that moves through everything and everyone. It has always been there and always will be. It is constantly flowing like the water in a stream moving from one place to another. When the stream encounters an obstacle, it either carries it along with its current or simply moves around it. While this stream is part of all life, its course is unique for each of us. When we truly surrender to our authentic path in life, we are carried by this stream and move easily around any obstacles without effort or exertion.

In the quiet of the middle of the night, I hear rain pattering on my roof. Invites of turning over and snuggling under the covers and enjoying nature's gentle melody that reminds me of the cycle of dry and wet, up-and-down, spring that turns into summer, fall and winter are considered. These last few days I’ve been waking early, eager to walk in the countryside of the south of France where I am staying. As I gently climb out of bed, I realize my shoes have been left outside and they are wet.

A person in my life who is so special and very important comments casually over dinner, ‘I try to not get close to people who might be leaving - dying, moving away, or not available. That helps me from getting hurt.’

In life, we are constantly making choices. Some of these choices appear small, like what to eat for breakfast. Others appear much larger, like our careers or partner(s). No matter the seeming immediate impact of the choice, each has the potential to shape our future.

It is tranquil, grounding and all inspiring. The roof as if inside of a nine petal flower as it unfolds. Each petals’ life source vine intertwined in the center. Expansive, uplifting, and an unexpected powerful invitation to BE. Pictures and cameras are not allowed; thus, the powerful resonance of feeling the spiritually inspired space to embed and invite in the community of people unknown to one another and connected.

2022 ended with hosting four grandchildren for a sleepover. 2023 began with their departure, rain, and a rainbow. And I noticed and was astonished by the brilliance of the day. Oh what might this foretell of this upcoming year?

Creating reflectional intention; a new offering…

Trust….

Letting go of the hurry, the rush, the ‘need to get this done now’ sense that unpins much of our waking hours…

Equals an invitation of Unhurried Trust.

Over seven years ago, when my mom passed, there were so very many people that showed up to honor her life. Many of them took the time to share stories about my mom and how she had touched their life. Before her passing, if asked, I would have indicated that I knew my mom quite well. After her passing, it was clear I knew my mom from a very small perspective. Initially this was as that of  mother daughter, then as a grandparent and, eventually something that moved beyond the traditional roles. 

I absolutely love studying yogic spirituality because it always invites some light to shine into areas that I didn’t even realize were a bit dark. And it seems to do so in a way that feels gentle, invites opening, and is without blame or shame.

How well I can recall scenes from 30 years ago of rushing against the clock (the clock wins!), arguing with traffic (traffic wins!), and changing my clothes at stoplights (as modestly as possible) in order to try to arrive at an evening yoga class within some modicum of timeliness. Habitually sliding in after class had started, I was always welcomed and continually amazed at the journey. After about an hour of class, I consistently found that there was no need to hurry, the feeling of being peace filled welled up in me and life seemed a whole lot easier than it did an hour ago. Thus  began my introduction to yoga practice.

After an experience with a 6-year-old of impromptu walking in the monsoon rain that ended abruptly when it was suddenly dry within 100 feet of the downpour, the reminder of quick and unexpected change arrived. With it, came a recall of the advice from a vibrant 106-year-old who, when asked the secret to longevity, responded, ‘When it rains, I let it.’