Awe

As I walked through a forest of trees yesterday, I couldn’t help but be in awe... I was especially enamored with their bark as each had their own exterior beauty and for some it was their canopy, as I tilted my head back as far I could, to catch a glimpse. The most moving, was the bark that had released to the ground beneath and slowly breaking down to share its nutrition back into the soil. I say thank you over and over again, for your life giving, nourishing and protecting offerings that are part of the earths fabric of being.

Satisfied

Yesterday, a full moon graced the sky. Reports mentioned a partial eclipse, but I didn't align with that moment. Some referred to it as a Hunter moon with Scorpio's influence. I’m not educated in Astrology, so I can't add much in that regard. What I can share is my own experience, marked by an acute awareness of the full moon throughout. I spent the day cleaning, organizing, and added in a saunter with the pups to collect dried leaves and seeds for an upcoming ritual. Quiet enveloped my day despite following stories of significant world news. To others, it might have seemed like any other day, but for me, upon closing my eyes I was satisfied. Not longing, reaching or considering. Just being.

Oliver

Things I’ll miss about you...

• The shake of your head and stomp of your feet just before I set your food down to eat.

• That no matter what, you would find a shoe (or anything for that matter) to present to me when I walked through the door. 

• Watching you in the morning try to jump on the bed at least half the time unsuccessfully and then getting to pull back the covers and watching you succeed.  

• When you wanted attention, you would just put your huge and very heavy head on my body and demand that I rub you. 

• Calling you to come inside and having you ignore me - I told everyone you were going deaf but I’m pretty sure you were just rebellious. 

• Calling you to come inside and watching you walk as slow as possible most of the time but when you were motivated with a treat, you ran like a bounding Clydesdale. 

• Letting me lay on top of you with my full body weight while I kissed you and tortured you with my over the top playfulness.

• Being my kids best friend when life felt confusing and challenging. You made them feel safe and gave them hope that these big feelings would soften and reminded them that life is good. 

• Being such an awesome and patient brother to Charlie by letting him be a crazy, energetic cattle dog puppy and playing with him even when you didn’t want to. 

• I loved that you were such a ginormous Golden Retriever and that snuggling (until you got to hot) was your favorite thing to do.

The thing I will miss the most is that you came into our lives for one thing... to give us unconditional love and devotion. There wasn’t even a single moment where that wasn’t your top priority. You excelled at your birthright and dharma sweet Oliver. Thank you my Big Beast. Thank you for giving us 9 years that changed our lives for the better. Thank you for every moment.

Sitting With

I've found myself immersed in understanding the profound significance of holding space for one another during moments of pain and suffering. It's a universal experience, yet it takes on countless forms, bearing unique stories and distinct shapes that can vary dramatically from one person to another. The depth of our own personal narratives further weaves into this intricate tapestry, shaping us not only to recognize and feel our own pain but also to stand with and support others in their moments of anguish.

Reflecting on my own journey, the chapter that stands out most was the profound loss of my father when I was 12 years old. In the midst of my overwhelming grief, I was alone to navigate each step as no one was skilled at this sacred transition. It became evident only years later that those around me were facing their own heartaches.  It was not that they were heartless or indifferent; rather, they were simply ill-equipped to know how to navigate the swirling sea of emotions, so they did what they unconsciously believed was best — locked down their feelings and soldiered forward.

Over the years I understood that the ability to sit with someone in their pain is one of the most profound gifts we can offer and one that I am continually developing as my understanding deepens. It's a gift of presence, of unwavering support, without the need to champion, reassure or fix in anyway. It's the simple act of being there, fully and authentically, allowing them to steer their own course through their unique, often turbulent, journey.

This act of "sitting with" is a sacred space, an emotional haven where one can be vulnerable, express their anguish, and navigate their path as they see fit. It doesn't seek to diminish or trivialize the pain, nor does it attempt to predict the future with hollow reassurances. It acknowledges the profound truth that pain is a unique, individual experience, and in those moments, what we often need most is a compassionate companion, a witness to our journey, and a hand to hold as we navigate the labyrinth of sorrow.

This is one of the most significant ways we can honor the beauty and complexity of our shared human experience.

The Dark Season

As we step into the dark season, I watch the world outside transform from vibrant green to a gentle, earthy brown. The days, once filled with brilliant sunlight, now grant the moon a little more of their attention. The Earth seems to exhale and draw its energy inward and down, like a deep, contemplative breath. The days feel slower, mirroring the pace of my personal seasonal change.

They say that the veil between realms is thinning, making it easier for us to connect with our ancestors. It's a time when their presence feels near, almost palpable. The simple act of closing our eyes and turning our attention inward, allows us to summon the energies of the unseen. It's as if the whispers of those who came before are carried on the autumn breeze, and we can listen to the echoes of their wisdom.  It's a time to feel the threads of connection that tie us to our lineage, to sense the influence of those who walked this path before our own.

This thinning of the veil is an invitation to honor our roots, to embrace the energies of the unseen, and to find solace in the knowledge that we are connected to something vast and eternal. As the days continue to slow and the nights lengthen, knowledge that the presence of our ancestors is not bound by time or space supports my rest. They are our silent companions on this journey called life.

Moving With Resistance

Last night I went to bed with big plans for my morning practice which included a formal and grand plan before the household woke up. Upon waking and after taking the pups outside for their morning routine (in 23 degree weather), I went back in my cozy bed to warm my chilled bones. I knew the resistance had set in and the internal fight of what I planned vs. what my mind wanted to effort for was in full swing.

In a Sutra Study group I’m in, the Teacher mentioned that he had a student who didn’t want to do a formal practice - well, he wanted it but couldn’t overcome his resistance, so the Teacher suggested that he simply lay in bed to practice. Remembering this, I was now questioning whether I could do this myself and hold it in equal value to sitting up tall with my meditation shall draped over my shoulders. Beginning with a half smile/half smirk on my lips, I began to watch my belly rise and fall. Within a short time, the skin around my lips released, the tension in my brain softened and the thoughts about what or how I was practicing vanished. All that was left was the rhythm of my breath, the remembrance of who I am and time didn’t exist.

I’m not suggesting that you forsake your practice at the whim of your mind’s opposition... but I am offering you an opportunity to look at your practice with flexibility and know that moving “with” resistance could unexpectedly bring about a path less traveled to the very same place you had been hoping to go...

Something Sweet

There are times when I’m engrossed in work I glance away and my eyes fall upon the something sweet… Tonight it was the sliver of the new moon above the Pacific. The dark clouds above holding contrast as the teal blue in the foreground enhances the moons almost imperceptible glow. As I stare, enamored with delight, the sky continues its journey towards dark and so must I return my gaze to the task at hand. Even though my gaze has shifted, the gentle lift of my lips holds the gift a for a little bit more. 

Nuance & Heart

From the moment I began practice, I was dissatisfied and truth be told, bored. How many times can I practice a pranayama technique, chant the same ol’ chant and repeat my mantra… I’ve been teaching this for years and years and I’ve been practicing this for years and years more. It just felt like I was showing up and checking off a list - yup, practice complete.

After a few moments, I gave myself permission to play. Exploring the breath at the top of my breath and consciously bringing the breath to the back body so the cylinder of my torso was evenly expanding and contracting.

Shifting to the Asatomaa Invocation and really focusing on the meaning of what I was chanting once again shifted my attention: Lead me from the Unreal to the Real, Darkness to light, Death to Immortality. Now that’s something that has meaning and importance… I’m calling to the universe for support.

I now begin repeating the mantra. Nothing. A meaningless set of sounds that offer me… Nothing. I notice the tightness in my solar plexus and begin to scan my body for more. Thoughts drift to a friendship that I’m consciously choosing the end and my tummy tightens more. Ah. I’m paying attention to myself, tuning in and following sensation.

Tears form under my lids and I’m aware that I’ve arrived in presence. Not doing. Being. The nuance of breath opened the door to my heart. For me, this is tru practice.

Anxiety

I don’t suffer from debilitating anxiety. But I do experience it from time to time and sometimes, I notice a low grade level that is just “there” within my day. I’m taking a deep dive within somatic therapy to understand more…

When I notice its presence, I have an incredibly strong urge to clean. Clean up my room, organize my closet, unsubscribe from marketing emails and even assess and make focused and thoughtful adjustments to how I spend my time and with whom. 

This has become one of my management systems to keep the feeling of constriction from overwhelming me. But more so, I now recognize the feeling of anxiety as a warning system that something is amiss. Learning how to heed the message is a developing skill and as I build this deeper relationship with my self, I have the bonus of a clean house!

I Have No Answers

It can be challenging to watch your almost grown children navigate life.  There are so many options and we are seemingly fortunate to offer them the opportunity to explore many possibilities through the vehicle of College and the wisdom of our own journey. Depending on your child’s personality, temperament, birth order, soul timeline, etc. those well-meaning opportunities can cause/create/enhance stagnation and confusion. 

I have no answers or solutions. I will continue to listen and risk giving my thoughts, knowing that it might not ease their suffering but at minimum, they will know I’m here for them, even if I too stumble on this unknown path.