Inspired Possibility Blog

Love's Wishes

1/10/2025

I know this is a hard month for many of us with fires and wars raging, outrageous things being said, outrageous things happening. There are a lot of crises and you may be experiencing pain. Maybe, like me, you're feeling worry and anxiety about the future that lies ahead. Welcome you to this moment, just as you are.

In this time of darkness, this season of hibernation, slowing down, and going within, I offer tenderness, gentleness, compassion, and an invitation for you to receive.

A beautiful song came on my playlist and I knew I wanted it to be my next note to you all: Find the Light sung by David Ramirez. “I wish upon you peace… but most of all I wish upon you love.” There's so much I wish for you, but nothing more I could wish upon you than love. ❤️❤️

Take a few moments to listen to this heartfelt offering of love. Close your eyes and take it into your heart. What does it stir? Even if you're in a dark time or place, how does this land?

Find The Light
written by Rene Ramirez
I wish upon you peace
I wish upon you grace
I wish for less of what you want
And more of what you need

I wish upon you an old light
With a heart that stays young
But most of all I wish upon you love

I wish upon you truth
When all you feel is doubt
I hope you know that an open mind
Still knows when to shut things out
I wish upon you a brave heart
that will always rise above
But most of all I wish upon you love

Cause as the sun sets, well
the moon begins to rise
So even in the darkness
you'll find the light

You'll find the light I wish upon you an easy life
I wish upon you hard times
I hope you know that both joy and pain
Each need their moment to shine
I wish you ears that are quick to listen
That you're slow to use that tongue
But most of all I wish upon you love

Cause as the sun sets, well
the moon begins to rise
So even in the darkness
you'll find the light

You'll find the light Oh now even in the darkness
you'll find the light

As I talked with a friend the other day, it became clear just how very harsh I was being with myself, even when there was no good reason. So I started reading my messages from Love aloud to her. Often in my morning journaling I ask the question Liz Gilbert introduced me to, “Love what would you have me know?” Tears streamed as I read and let my heart receive Love's tenderness and generosity. Somehow even though the words come through my pen, they feel like they come from a greater force beyond myself.

I thought maybe you'd appreciate some of these too, since I don't think I'm the only one who gets down on herself, feels overwhelmed from time to time, or gets caught up in worry. You'll let me know if I'm wrong, right? 😊

So, here we go, some wishes from Love to you:

✨ One breath. One moment. Move at that pace. It's enough. Just be present. Be with yourself honestly, openly, with that beautiful open heart. Honor and tend to yourself through it all. You are so brave, so honest, to face things head on when you can and listen for the moment of opening. You don't have to blast the doors down…in your own time, my darling. Held in love. Always.

💕 Beloved, keep following your heart. Keep loving - yourself and your people, well. Take very exquisite care of your body, your heart - rest as needed. Take breaks. Don't push. Gentle, gentle, baby. You need and deserve gentle, my beloved. You have a lot going on - out there and in your being. In your tender heart especially. It has an effect on everything. Don't underestimate that, beloved. You can do this, but you need mindful presence and tending. Paying attention. Give to yourself at least as much as you give to others. Fill up to overflowing. Let yourself be loved.

💜 Live and grieve in your way, in your time, my darling. Allow the joy, peace, sadness, and grief to all swim together in you and around you as they will. Your way is unique and allows others their way - no right or wrong. Release the worry of what others will think. Just be you, be with you, and know that that is perfect, beloved. Release expectations and live into the moments as they come. Be present. Be real. Allow it all…the nostalgia, the longing will be here too. It's ok. There's room for it all. The heart knows the way to hold it all, my dear.

❤️ Cherish the moments, darling. You know how precious and sacred they are, for sure. Don't miss them. Be here for them, and beloved, tend to yourself well along the way. Breathe with life and let life breathe with you. Feel how your heart really can hold it all? Because it can. It's amazing, and it's how you humans are built - it just takes some time and experience to really feel it. The heart's capacity and the human capacity is immense and too often untapped, limited by your stories and beliefs. But when you feel what's possible firsthand, you can give yourself more fully to life, and that's a beautiful thing. Cry, scream, laugh, and be silent. All is welcome here in this space, this reality of infinite, undying love.

☮️ Stay in touch with your body. Take good care of yourself as you move softly, gently, and discover what can be accomplished even in that energy. It's a new way for you, and you'll be pleasantly surprised if you can fully allow yourself to experience it - to witness that it doesn't have to be hard or overwhelming or frenzied. Let it be easy. Let it be fun. Let it be joyful work. Why not?

🩵 Oh my darling, slow it all down. Breathe. Go within. Place your hand on your heart and hold yourself tenderly, lovingly. Offer up all the love in the world to this tender heart, this tender soul that reels in the messy and harsh of life. Breathe slowly, softly, ease-fully. Take off that pressure you pile on yourself that you know isn't helpful or necessary - that only paralyzes you. Soften. Release. Gentle yourself, darling.

My invitations to you:
💕 Have your own conversation with Love. Take a little quiet time to sit with yourself. Maybe place your hand upon your heart and ask, “Love, what would you have me know?” and see what comes. You can freewrite, keeping your hand moving as words come to you and through you, or you can simply receive her messages to your heart. I find Love to be a mighty force of unconditional grace, tenderness, and generosity with so much wisdom to offer.

✨ Join me for a mini retreat, Finding Hope Within on Monday, January 20th from 12-1:30 PM ET if you'd like a peaceful place to spend a little time. We will gather over Zoom to step away from anything else that might be going on that day and turn toward our hearts and souls to be nourished and fortified for whatever life may ask of us in the days ahead.

☮️ Take some time to meditate with me with Love, What Would You Have Me Know?

What resonates with you? What does Love have to say to you? How might this support you in the coming days, weeks, year?

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Answering the Call

3/8/2024

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Image by Aurélien Barre from Pixabay

Answering the call… what's it mean? Not what it would have meant if I had written this several years ago. Then it would have been about following your heart, your dreams, your passion. Creating a life or work that calls to you. Today, it's something much simpler. A gentle and fairly easy way to tend my heart. (if you missed last week's post from guest blogger, Heather Ross, you can find Tending Your Heart here).

For the third time this week, the birds, ocean, and sun called me to sunrise. For the previous nine weeks, I often slept til 8 or 9, but now, with 3 days left in Hilton Head, I don't want to miss it. I started my 60th birthday with a solo sunrise and lots of tears because there is grief about entering a new year without my son, Nate, physically here. And because sunrise at the ocean breaks my heart open for some reason. Even today it brought tears. There's a primitive force that I feel in my heart.

This morning, most people had already left or were leaving. Some would say I'd missed it because I wasn't there for the breaking on the horizon moment. I knew that would be the case and still I went. Some would say it wasn't very dramatic because there weren't many clouds. The breaking of a new day is always a miracle, and I rarely rise to greet it, to celebrate it - so with or without clouds, it's a powerful force, a tremendous beauty to me. I'm glad I was there mostly alone, so I could take it in, feel, cry, let the sun and the wind caress my face while I closed my eyes and communed with, joined with them. It's breathtaking, and I'm glad I answered the call and gave myself this time with nature rather than lying in bed trying to go back to sleep. No, I didn’t want to miss these moments in my last days here. I’m not a National Geographic photographer – it’s not about the perfect image – it’s about being there for it, feeling the rhythm of nature, the steadiness and impermanence in the sand as the ocean washes over the beach.

Today I wrote 4EVER LOVE in the sand at the shoreline, and while it stayed untouched for a few minutes, it wasn’t long before it was quickly, gently swooped away, yet still there. Nothing can take it away. For some reason I like offering it up to the sands and the ocean – to mingle with, become a part of these forces of beauty and nature.

To breathe in the damp morning air, to bathe in the resonant sound of waves, the wind, the birdsong – it takes me away from the worries of the day, the troubles of our times, the political divide that’s already and ever escalating. Just for a few moments, I can truly feel peace, contentment, and I don’t need to do anything, produce anything, think about anything, worry about anything. I can just breathe, listen, and take in the gift of another new day. That, my friends, is a beautiful miracle that I will savor.

Even now, hours later as I sit at the kitchen table, typing up this reflection, it fills my heart, soothes, my soul, and takes me over with its magnificence. Captivates me. Entrances and enchants me. Beauty. Wonder. Awe. These are a few of my favorite things. Happy to share them with you!

What is it that brings you this sense of wonder and awe? How can you give yourself more moments with gifts for your heart and soul? What call is awaiting your response? Please share!!

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Awareness, Recovery, & Retreat

10/14/2023

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August 31 is International Overdose Awareness Day - all around the world people gather to remember and honor the way too many lives lost to substance-related deaths. We grieve. We mourn. We come together to hope for recovery for those still here.

This year was my first from the perspective of having lost my son just 5 months earlier - 5 months to the day we cried over his casket to say our final goodbyes to his physical form. When invited to speak at our local Scotty B Overdose Awareness Day (created by another mother in memory of her beloved son), I didn’t skip a beat as I replied to the full-body goosebump “Yes.” I didn’t know why or even what I’d say, but I knew it was an authentic yes. That morning I reached out to several people asking, “What do I even have to offer? My son didn’t find recovery. My son died. How can I offer inspiration or hope?” I cried. Big tears. Lots of tears. I received their encouragement and gathered my thoughts, pulling together a message intended to raise awareness, to share Nate’s story, what I’ve learned over the past 30 years, what I wish I had known, and an appeal for greater kindness and compassion for all people.

My dear friend, a fellow angel mama, and I started the day at an Overdose Awareness Vigil in a part of the city where the need for compassionate, non-judgmental support and care is immense. We sat in a circle with people in recovery, people in active use, family members, friends, and allies, and people at dire risk. We shared pizza and memories of those lost. We shared what called us to this circle that day. We learned how to use Naloxone to save a life. We learned about Overdose Prevention Centers and the critical need for them, and we shared space, time, and life. It was beautiful. Heart-touching. Heart-wrenching, and heart-opening.

From there over to Scotty B Day where I met and visited with people in the recovery community - some of the most authentic, sensitive, creative, beautiful people in the world. I shared table with my friend, the beautiful writer, Jennifer Collins. In addition to selling my book, I had care bags to give away for those in need, along with Nate’s cards (which have his picture and the messages “I see you. You matter. You are not alone.” and local resource numbers on them) and Never Use Alone cards. I watched as one young man picked up Nate’s card and withered into a gut-punching, disbelieving gasp… “No, no, no… tell me it’s not true…” He had been Nate’s neighbor in supportive housing. “He was doing well…” his confusion voiced as he took in this news. Yeah. He was. Until he wasn’t. Awareness awakening.

After I spoke (you can listen to the talk here), I had the beautiful opportunity to connect with so many open-hearted people. Parents who wanted to know more about the Invitation to Change, who longed for a different way to be with their loved ones. Parents who heard our story and committed to being with their young ones differently - to let them be who they are, whether they are 3, 9, 11, or 15. Parents who had lost kids somewhat guiltily confessing, “I did the whole enabling thing…” because they had gone to their child, supported them, loved them. I offered a reframe: “Sounds like you loved your kid. There is no need to apologize for that. Ever.” Phew. Exhale. No need for shame. You loved your child, as did I. Let’s let the stories go, drop this all-too-common cultural narrative, and begin to heal around this loss. Find our recovery. Other people I met love people in active use, kids who are on the streets, at great risk; these people are doing what they can to love them well, to support them, while also taking care of themselves. There’s room for it all. Awareness. Connection. You’re not alone. One tiny moment at a time…it’s enough.

It was a beautiful, encouraging, uplifting, devastating, heart-opening, heart-wrenching day. I wobbled away from the podium, away from the space, and met up with my husband to celebrate, debrief, and cry. I was wrung out and filled up all at once.

The next day kicked off National Recovery Month. And, I felt myself slide into a valley. It had taken a ton of energy to prepare for Overdose Awareness Day, only a little over a month after Nate’s memorial service. It was time for me to immerse deeply into my own recovery. After putting myself out there, there was a natural reaction to pull back, go within, hunker down, and restore myself. You might have experienced something similar in your own life. Even as I continued to post support and encouragement for the recovery movement, for individual and family recovery, I was heading into a gentle crash and into my next phase of recovery.

Here's what I know about recovery: it begins within and is a deeply personal journey. As my friend, Chris’s shirt says, “Recovery is any Positive Action.” It’s not clear, straightforward, or linear. It is often painful and painstakingly hard. Recovery can only be approached and managed one minute at a time. It requires a leap of faith into the unknown, hoping that the effort will be worth it. Recovery requires letting go of tried-and-true comfort and survival tactics to find new, less certain ways to be. It calls us to look at past pain, to open our hearts to grieve what might have been as we lean into what’s here, and step toward what’s possible.

Recovery calls us inward to reconnect with ourselves – our hearts, our spirits, to touch what’s true and to connect with what’s available to us. Anything that requires a lot of energy, particularly emotional energy, will invite a period of respite and recovery afterwards. Awareness. Can we pay attention to the needs of our body, mind, heart, and spirit and find a way to honor that need?

The first weeks after Overdose Awareness Day were very uncomfortable as I found myself confronting some dark, haunting questions: What if? What if I had seen how desperately Nate was spiraling out of control and had insisted he come to dinner with us the night he dropped off the grid? What if I had invited him to stay with us for the weekend the last time I last saw him, 6 days before he died? Would he still be here? I suspect this is a natural grief response, grasping for what might have been different. Not so much blame, but a desperate wish that I had known and had the chance to make different choices. Recovery calls us to face our shadows in order to move forward, so I met myself there and sunk into the feelings and thoughts that swept through.

After a couple of weeks in intentional recovery mode, I also added retreat into my life, packing up and getting away from home, from Rochester with all its ghosts and ghostly places. First I headed off with my husband, Tom, to hole up in a hotel and sleep, read, and write some overdue cards, while he worked.

Next, we headed off to a massive music festival where we could easily get lost in the crowd in Louisville, Kentucky. We savored an evening with Brandi Carlile (I just love her...sigh). Total anonymity and shared love of a great artist held us in this musical escape.

Then Tom dropped me off at a rustic retreat center in the mountains of western North Carolina for a women’s retreat – my first big social space with mostly unknown women since Nate’s death. I was welcomed with huge hugs from two loving women, soul sisters I’ve known for almost a decade, women who have answered the call to show up for this deep mama loss. I found my way to my remote charming cabin by the creek and settled myself into it for a musty nap, the creek offering its gentle natural white noise. And I bawled. I let my tears soak my pillow. I let my body shake as sobs moved through me. In this quiet space of solitude, I let myself feel the fear of something happening to Tom, and felt the deep awareness of how desperately I need him to be ok, to be safe, to stay alive. How much I need him. Period.

Eventually sleep found me, and after a refreshing rest, I was able to enter retreat tentatively, gingerly, dosing out bits of my current reality as I was able. Giving myself the gift of my own deep attention and care – what did I need? Feel? Want? Following this inquiry, moment by moment, without expectation, without judgment. Allowing space for the bereaved mother, the open-hearted dancer, the tearful singer, the curious writer, and all the bits of me to be present. Allowing the silence to deepen my connection to myself. I let myself be filled up, sharing space and energy with other women, each on her own journey, each in her own space, facing her own longings, fears, awakenings, awareness, and insights as retreat worked on us. It was healing, cathartic, transformative, and I am deeply grateful for it all.

As we cycle through life, when we can allow ourselves to follow Awareness, Recovery, and Retreat, we grow. We evolve. We let go. We connect. We become. The next iteration of who we are in this moment of life emerges. We open to what’s possible. We face hard truths. We heal. And then we do it all over again. Maybe this is all life asks of us.

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Finding Stillness

4/11/2023

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Often, we move through the ocean of life as if we’re riding the surface - tossed around, bobbing and rocking with every wave. We may be floating safely enough, but in this constant churning, we’re also thrown about by life, by people, responsibilities, and demands that pull on us. We are tossed and turned - at the mercy of things outside of our control.

Yet, beneath the crashing waves, the dark depths of the ocean offer a place of profound stillness, some distance from the surface turbulence. Similarly, deep within each of us, at the core, there is stillness available. The trick is to find it. Once we’ve found it, we only need to return there, time and again.

In this space, receive and allow yourself to be nourished and fed. Life continues at its frenetic pace, but you can find your own agency within it. In this space, feel both your separateness and your connection with others - not splitting off, but coexisting, maintaining your own steadiness, even in the waves. We become fluid ourselves as we flow with life a bit more smoothly, grounded and solid in the knowing, the sensation of our own body.

In the Stillness
In the stillness
the answers come,
truths are unearthed,
promises remembered.

In the stillness
prayers are answered,
hearts are restored,
dreams fostered,
visions captured.

In the stillness
the oneness becomes clear,
connection to self deepens,
universal threads intertwine.

In the stillness
the magic lies
waiting for you to visit
and reside here,
for however many moments.

© Barb Klein, 2016, from 111 Invitations: Step into the Full Richness of Life

What do you think? What does stillness offer you? What might become possible or evident if you took the time to find some quiet, some space?

Lao Tzu asks, “Do you have the patience to wait
                            Till your mind settles and the water is clear?
                            Can you remain unmoving
                            Till the right action arises by itself?”

Such a great and powerful reminder to get out of the chaotic spin, the tendency to react and jump into action without even having fully formed thoughts or ideas about what would be wise, skillful, or helpful to you, to the other, or to the situation.

Patience - they say it’s a virtue, and I suppose that’s true. Yet when we’re confronted with urgency, it can be terribly hard to access. Taking a pause. Finding our place of internal stillness helps.

What helps us get to that rich place of stillness? Pausing. Gathering ourselves up in our own loving presence. Granting ourselves grace, stepping back, stepping away before needing to take any action at all. Remembering that rarely anything good comes from the instantaneous fight, flight, freeze, or facade response.

It’s far better to slow things down, find our bearings by finding ourselves in this moment - take stock through our senses. Notice what we see, hear, smell, taste, and feel in this space. Awareness anchors us into the present moment. In that moment we can find and claim the stillness, remembering that even in a hurricane, there is the center of the storm, the eye that is relatively untouched by the raging winds. When the storms of life are raging, take yourself to the eye. Find yourself standing firm in the strength of who you are… not rigid, but strong and supple, able to bend and flow as the willow does. Bending, but not breaking because you are allowing the storm to happen around you, choosing not to step into it or resist it.

In the stillness, close your eyes, touch your heart, and ask the most important question: What do I need in this moment? Allow yourself permission to ask, knowing that your needs matter. Allow the answers to come. Allow yourself to hear, even if it’s uncomfortable. And then, from this grounded stance, begin to get curious about the ways you might be able to tend to whatever needs arise. What could you try? Who could you ask for help? What can you let go of? Is there anything here that is not yours? What can you turn over to someone else or to God or the Universe? Are you trying to carry too much? What can you put down, dear one?

In the stillness, take stock again. What do you see, hear, feel, taste, and smell now? Have your senses opened? Perhaps now you hear the bird song that wasn’t there in the crashing waves of panic. Maybe your eyes have softened to notice the yellow wren swinging on the feeder or the warmth of your lamp or even the light within the mostly grey sky. Maybe your heart and breath have slowed a bit. Maybe. Maybe not. What’s true for you?

The stillness offers us, invites us, into intimacy with our heart and soul. The stillness washes over us, enveloping us like a warm bath. The stillness opens our hearts and minds to fresh possibility - to see what wasn’t there before. To try something maybe we’ve never done before. Stillness offers spacious room to breathe, to stretch, to grow.

Stillness reminds us we do not have to rush, and that when we let go of the rushing, we are far better equipped to face whatever challenges await. It doesn’t take long for this medicine to work its magic. For it’s not really magic at all. It is the natural way of being - the essence of who we are. All the outer busyness and craziness - that’s conditioning, learned behavior from our society. The sense that we must be on or available all the time, that we must respond in an instant - that’s nonsense. It makes no sense except when there is an immediate danger, which is fairly rare.

There’s almost always more time than we think, and if we allow ourselves even a few moments of pause, of quiet, of stillness, what will emerge is so much richer, wiser, skillful, effective, supportive, helpful. So much more likely to be grounded in who we are and what we believe in. So much more aligned with what really matters to us. So much more likely to lead to fewer mistake and fewer regrets.

Let’s dive beneath the surface to tap into this deep anchoring of still, quiet nourishment. Imagine what could be if we all did that a little more often. Imagine a world grounded in stillness before action.

Please enjoy Leah Kent's beautiful guided meditation, Anchored Stillness, as a support toward finding your own stillness in this moment.   Leah Kent is a book coach and author who helps wisdom keepers and visionaries write and publish transformational books about their work in the world. She’s the creator of the Wild Embodied Writing method, and the author of Awakening the Visionary Voice. To learn more, visit leahkent.net or connect with Leah on Instagram @leahkentco

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Carrying Pain

2/19/2023

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Pain. Fear. Worry. I’m noticing lots of us don’t know what to do with these very human, and very uncomfortable experiences. Many of us have been conditioned to push through pain. We don’t understand or don’t want to sit with it. After all, we live in a culture that says things like, “No pain, no gain!” (Which, by the way I call bullshit on!).

If we allow it, our pain informs us. It tells us when something is wrong. It lets us know we need some loving care. It begs us to rest and regroup - to nurture ourselves until we’re ready to consider what to do.

We all carry pain. One of the elements of mindful self-compassion is common humanity, reminding us all humans suffer. It’s part of our shared human experience, not a sign of weakness and not something that happens to you alone.

I have found myself living with some really heavy pain mixed with a lot of fear lately. At times I’ve found myself feeling flat and dull like a cardboard shirt liner. Some days it’s a slog to simply do the next thing. Other days I compartmentalize a bit and put the painful stuff aside to enjoy being with myself or with a friend. One thing I know for sure is the more I’m able to express or share my pain, the less burdened I feel.

When we try to carry it alone, giving it nowhere to go, no release, no expression, no tears or screams, it eats us up inside. It comes out - always - just maybe not in a healthy way. Sideways, misdirected, harmful.

What Helps

What helps me in these times is to talk about it with someone who simply listens without trying to fix or advise. It helps me to write about it. It helps me to cry, even if the tears come from an unrelated song or movie. It helps to get outdoors and look for beauty. Because what’s scaring me is so outside my control, it helps to find what I can control - picking one small task and seeing it through (I’m talking super small, like getting a load of laundry through the dryer or wiping down one kitchen counter).

I’m learning to be with my pain, and to not be with it alone. Give it space. Give it voice before its pressure builds up and blows, before I become so numb that I hide away and lose myself to the world.

Where did we learn to believe we have to be OK all the time? That it’s weak to admit we’re hurting or scared? Maybe from parents who held it all together as they went through hard times. Parents who did what they had to do to get through, who weren’t raised to talk about their sorrows or hardships and didn’t know how to care for themselves. Maybe from a world that feels hard and harsh - a world that instructs us to hide our tears and “get over” our grief.

Pain carried alone is like poison, slowly taking us down.

What if we faced pain together?

As we face our scary realities, I wonder what might happen if we can each let down our armor. Maybe we can be afraid together. Maybe in that fear, we can break through - maybe shared vulnerability will help us face what we need to in a realistic way. Maybe. Maybe if we trusted one another to be honest and open about what’s going on, we can face it together. Maybe if we stopped pretending we’re OK, maybe if we’d open our hearts to one another, take a breath, slow down long enough to be really real, maybe then we’d get somewhere. Stop pushing, stop running and let ourselves break down to break through.

Maybe we need to stop jumping too quickly to problem-solving and let ourselves admit just how scared we are first. Maybe we can admit we don’t know what’s coming or how things can change, and then uncover some fresh ideas. What if we could learn from each other’s fears as we share our own? Can we come together to find a way forward? It seems worth a shot.

Hurt people hurt people. Let’s be people who are healing to help others heal. It will take some time. We have time. It’s always better to slow things down than to try to operate from a place of reactivity. Our pain and our problems deserve our time, our attention, our love, and our full presence. Especially when things feel really dire. In those moments, may we open our hearts to one another, let our whole selves come through, and come together to find our way on.

To the One Who is Hurting
by Barb Klein

To you, Dear One,
                The one who’s not doing as well
                as you’d like the world to believe,
I see you
I feel for you
I know what it’s like -
                to armor up and soldier on
                to put on a smile when you feel empty inside
                to feel lost and alone, and oh, so scared
Where do you turn?
How do you let it out
                so you don’t carry this unbearable weight
                alone?
Please let yourself let down
                some way, somewhere…
Please…
Don’t carry this alone.
It will tear you up inside
And leave you as destroyed
                as the one you worry about.
Please, find someone -
                let someone walk by your side.
You don’t have to pretend to be OK.
Really.
In each of us there lies a secret pain -
                too big to let out, we fear,
                afraid it will take over the moment it’s revealed
You are not alone.
You are one of thousands of millions,
                pretending to be OK,
                shoving it down, this poisonous pain,
                burying it away,
                hurting and hurting and hurting some more.
Let it out.
Let someone in.
You do not have to carry this alone.
When pain is shared
                it becomes less heavy -
                perhaps.
Perhaps a new possibility might arise…
                if not, at least you can face it -
                together.
It’s too much for one person to bear, this poisonous pain.
I see you
I feel you
I’ve been there (just yesterday, in fact)
I wrap you in a love that reminds you -
                You do not suffer alone
Let’s carry this together
                as we step into this day,
Not pretending we’re OK
It’s OK
We’ll go on and find our way
Somehow
Some way
We will get through another day

Gentle yourself in whatever way you need. Rest when you need to. Know that pain doesn't have to be pushed through and that it's not weak to ask for help. Cry. Scream. Write. Whatever works for you to get out any pain you're holding. Let it out, get it out so that it doesn't tear you up inside. Please offer yourself tons of grace. Find your own version of what helps.

And if, in this moment, you're feeling peaceful, relaxed and full of joy! Great!! Soak that in - breathe it in to your bones so you remember you can find this feeling when you need it.

As always, please meet yourself with kindness, gentleness, tenderness, and compassion. And know that you are not alone.

I offer you this meditation, In Painful Times, as a practice to support you.

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The Gift of Presence

12/29/2022

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This Christmas I had the opportunity to experience the gift that mere presence brings. What’s possible when I shut my mouth and just listen. Listen with an open heart and open mind, setting aside my own ideas and agendas.

Presence like this opens doors, builds trust and safety in a way that allows others to come forward - to open up and give me an idea of what life is like for them, what is going on inside of their experience.

When I stop nagging, badgering, interrogating, and lecturing (which, let’s be honest, NO ONE likes! It is never helps connection or makes anything truly positive happen), love enters in. Hearts open to one another. We can relax into being together and be a little more real…

It comes down to who I want to be and how I want to be. This is where I have agency and choice. I am not pre-programmed or unable to control my own behavior and words. Based on my values (what really matters most to me), based on my story of who I say I am, it’s up to me to do more than just pay lip service to what I say I’m all about.

It’s up to me to actually BE the way I aspire to be. I can also bring in lots of compassion and grace when I slip up (which I most certainly will!) - this is not about perfection. It is about generous compassion for all.

When I step back, silently, and allow myself to observe and see what’s going on, I might recognize the struggle someone is having. I realize that it’s not their fault or choice. They don’t choose to be in this struggle. I can have compassion. I can offer a calm presence for someone who’s feeling a little jangly to regulate with rather than adding to the angst or presenting something to fight against or feel bad about.

I can simply offer my truly loving presence. This allows me to hear how surprised someone is by how well they’re doing. I can hear the self-doubt that lives so close to the surface. I can hear how little they believe in or trust themselves. How they’re finding their way, tentatively beginning to form a new story. Inviting, allowing them to soften to me - to trust that I am a safe place to land. That I won’t use their admissions against them.

I can look for what’s going right, what there is to celebrate, rather than focus on what is missing or what could be. I can follow the rhythm and flow of this group I’m with in this time… not impose my idealized story of what “should” be.

Over the years I have ruined many special events for myself and others by letting my expectations or ideas of how things should be cloud the reality of what and who is here right now.

I’m the one who still feels the pang of guilt over how ungraciously I responded to my sister’s massively generous gift of a handcrafted framed Holly Hobbie needlework (50 years ago!). I was too young to appreciate what it meant for her to pour her heart, soul, and time into this beautiful piece just for me. It wasn’t a toy. I was a brat. And. I responded with the appropriate bratty pout for the rest of the day.

I am the one who hit my friend, Steven. when he gave me a beautiful Breyer horse for my birthday. The gift was more than I could bear. Pretty sure that was the same year - 8-year-old me had some issues…

I am the one who often feels let down after the holiday is over - the days and weeks of build-up falling hollow when everyone leaves. Wanting more. Wanting different. Regret at what wasn’t. Disappointment.

Not this year. This year I chose differently.

I reminded myself in my journaling and asked my husband to help me remember to appreciate what’s here. I stayed present to the miracle we were given in being able to all be together for 2 nights and 3 days, sharing one house, sharing meals, visiting, talking, laughing till bedtime. Wiggling through the tense moments but not blowing them up into more than they needed to be. Staying kind even when I had to have an uncomfortable conversation. Resting gradually in each other’s presence. Honoring the rhythm and flow of this family. Noticing when the “what should we DO now?” anxiety temporarily poked at me… allowing things to unfold organically rather than forcing a reading of The Grinch, a making of the gingerbread house (that is still waiting patiently in its box for when the right time), watching an old holiday show that no one but me enjoys. Let that go. Open to what they want. Invite everyone into something new. Just breathe. Just be. Play the kids’ Christmas music rather than my mom’s old playlist. Be playful, lighthearted, enjoy. Them. For who they are. As they are. As we are. In this moment.

That way of being opened up something in me that still touches my heart. I can almost cry as I soak in the deep appreciation for this precious time with my husband and grown sons. There wasn’t anything too profound in our being together except that it was all profound. To witness the initial discomfort and awkwardness melt away as we settled in to being together. To relax into noticing and allowing each of us to have our own unique ways and needs. To hug, smile, laugh… to really stay in a place of appreciating what was, what is, what’s here, what’s true, what’s real, what’s good and wonderful. Holding back judgment or inclination to offer unwelcome suggestions or unkind observations. Allowing others to find their own way in life in their own time.

Letting love guide the way, be the true foundation for our time together, for our life. The generosity of presence is the truest gift we can offer another being. It is the greatest gift we can offer ourselves. To listen deep within, to remember who we want to become in this next iteration, to show up to what we say we want to create with others, to be sincere in our efforts and digging in to show up in that way. Not expecting it to be easy, perfect, or even comfortable, but allowing the unfolding.

This Christmas I was given the gift of connection with my family, getting to know them in a way I had not before. Together we created the gift of presence. My heart remains full. ❤

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Out of the Darkness & Into the Light...

12/21/2022

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As I revisit and revise this post, originally written for MomPower in 2020 and then re-written for this blog last year, I am feeling into what's alive for me at this moment. I am grateful to re-read this message and take it into my own heart as I sit with myself with tears streaming down my face. I offer it to you again with love.

Today marks the winter solstice here in the Northern Hemisphere. On this darkest day of the year, the pivotal moment between dark and light, it is the perfect time to honor the darkness that has come into our lives. It is a time to honor those who have been lost and to remember them with love. It is a time to honor the struggle and the perseverance of those who are on a challenging journey and to honor ourselves and other loved ones who have also found a way through the darkness.

In honoring the darkness and in grieving the losses we have endured, we bring those moments into the light. When we bring them into the light, they are no longer hiding in the shadows, lurking in shame, or hidden in silence. We claim and name our experience. We see it for what it has been. We presence it.

When we do this, we are able to step forward into the light. Just as the days begin to get longer with a bit more light from tomorrow on, we too can begin to bring more light into our homes and our beings.

Addiction, cancer, mental illness (to name a few) are painful diseases, as you undoubtedly know. They affect everyone in their wake and can take down entire families with the weight of suffering.

However (and this is a big however), the journey into darkness does not have to take us out forever. It is possible to find hope, joy, peace, love, and to create a brighter tomorrow, even when we have been impacted by a loved one's disease.

If you are reading this, you are alive, and for that fact alone there is reason to celebrate. You have been given the opportunity to live one more day. What will you do with this one precious life you have been given? How will you set your soul free to express itself? What is uniquely yours to do?

Is there some way to honor your journey up to this very moment--the good, the bad, and the ugly, the full messiness of it all? The painful, the joyous, the fearfulness, and the hope? Whatever it’s looked like in the past, today marks a new day, albeit a short one. Tomorrow offers the light of fresh possibility, as each day does. How do you want to step into tomorrow?

If we are able to find a way to turn our pain (or darkness) into possibility (or light), we can transform these heavy experiences into something that serve and support us and others. We can show up for life more fully. We can become who we were born to be. With each loss I experience I also experience a fresh resolve to live this life even more fully.

Let’s face it, the past 3 years have carried a full load of darkness, collectively, along with anything that you might have experienced personally.

For many the holidays are emotionally-charged times and may bring in a healthy mix of emotions… sadness, joy, celebration, loneliness. I know I will be feeling both sadness for those who are not with us during this holiday season as well as joy and gratitude for those who are.

There is room for it all. When we allow ourselves to feel it all, to allow our hearts to carry this messy mix of what makes us human, we are able to move through it.

“Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.” ~ Brene Brown

So, let this pivotal day be a day that marks the honoring of both the dark and the light. Let us take a step back and look at the big picture of our lives and recognize that our experiences have not been all good or all bad, but rather a mix of both.

These diseases can entomb us with their heavy cloak of darkness if we let them, but we can choose to lift up the corner of that cloak and peek outside. We can lay down the heaviness and step into the light. We get to choose.

We may well prefer the moments of lightness, light-heartedness, and light in general, but there is also a gift to receive during the dark and challenging times. We must be willing to sit with this part of our reality if we are to truly enjoy the light.

I have found that it is in the dark where I have grown the most. I wonder if that might be true for you as well. I offer you this poem for consideration.

The Places We Grow
It’s in the dark,
in the shadows,
where we stretch and grow.

We face ourselves
and see a new or forgotten aspect,
a piece we’d rather ignore or deny.

But there it is…
staring us down,
daring us to change,
to find a new way,
or to simply come into acceptance.

Sometimes it’s about overcoming
or adjusting.
Finding a way to do this with
love, compassion,
and gentle communion.

Honoring the self…
who I am,
where I am,
what I need,
what my baggage is.

And stepping into a deeper layer,
excavating and shifting,
allowing new light in,
and new hope out.

These are the places we grow –
often watered
and nourished with tears.
© Barb Klein, 2016, “The Places We Grow,” from 111 Invitations: Step into the Full Richness of Life

Where and how can you nourish yourself today? How might you allow some new light in--to your being, to your life? How can you allow a little more hope to shine into the world?

Begin by greeting yourself exactly where you are--gently, with tenderness, care, and compassion. Offer yourself the space and grace to feel into what’s alive within your heart at this moment. Ask your heart what it needs at this moment to be truly nurtured and nourished. Then respond accordingly. You deserve your own loving care.

We are on the cusp of a new year and we can only hope that 2023 is bringing with it new possibility, hope, and fresh beginnings. Today let’s pause. Let’s look at our lives and our loved ones with reverence. Let’s honor this journey where we have walked, crawled, and stumbled while we look ahead to the light of new creativity. Let’s let this darkest day of the year—December 21-- be a personal pivotal moment for us to enter an illuminated future.

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Mind Your Business

11/30/2022

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I’ve heard this said a number of ways from the not very nice “Mind your own business!” to a gentler reminder to “stay in your lane, in your boat, or in your hula hoop.” I’ve come to take it as sage wisdom, not a harsh rebuke. A “prescription for peace” as my friend and colleague, Joanne Richards, calls it.

When we love someone with substance use disorder or other mental health issues, we can find ourselves in their business a lot. They aren’t doing well. Things don’t add up. The stories we’re getting or what we’re observing don’t compute with what we’re being told, so we’re going to get to the bottom of it. But, can we, really? We’re not in the other person’s head or life, so we won’t truly know what’s happening unless they share it with us. We can only make up our own stories. Stories which often lead to more wondering, more worrying, more distress.

We can do this with friends and other loved ones too - they haven’t called or replied to a text. What’s that mean? Are they mad? Did I do or say something wrong? Are they ok? What’s wrong? People are complex, so we never know what may or may not have upset someone. We don’t really know what’s going on for them unless we talk to them directly about it. Our mind masterfully, effortlessly, and unknowingly dreams up disaster scenarios in the blink of an eye.

How do we know when we’re out of our business?

Here are some of the common ways we might find ourselves out of our business and into someone else’s. Read through with gentleness and without self-judgment. Maybe some familiar to you too. Great! You’ve just raised your awareness! Now you get to choose what to do with that!

Finding ourselves wrapped up in fear, struggle, and resentment.
Spending an inordinate amount of time thinking about this other person. Checking the phone for calls or texts or checking in with them repeatedly. Monitoring their activity and whereabouts. Believing you need to know what’s going on with them. If you don’t hear from them, you worry if they’re all right.

Lying in bed, mind drifting into sleuth mode trying to piece together bits of stories or observations to figure out what’s really going on (at least in a way that makes sense to the mind). Looking for inconsistencies, trying to make sense of what’s unknown. When we don’t know the truth of what’s real, we make up all kinds of stories so our mind has something to hold onto.

Seeking answers to the unknown, forgetting that we can never really know the future.

Losing sleep grasping for control in any way we can because things feel so out of control.

Wandering throughout the day aimlessly during unscheduled times. Unsure what to do, nervous energy carrying us from one thing to the next… doing a little of this and a little of that, but lacking the focus to dive deeply into any one thing for any length of time.

Eating for comfort rather than for hunger or nourishment. “Stress eating” is a real thing… and I am very, very good at it! Eating our feelings… it happens!

Connecting our sense of peace and well-being directly to someone else’s. Unless they’re doing well, we can’t be either.

How do you know when you’re out of your business and into someone else’s? What are your clues?

Why does it matter?

This is particularly important for those of us with whom mental health is at play or substance use is in the field because chaos and frenzy can easily become the norm, and it can consume you.

Finding ourselves out of our business matters because in those moments we are not honoring our peace and well-being. We are sacrificing them to concerns that are out of our control. We may be adding on to the suffering by beating ourselves up for doing this because “we know better.” Knowing and doing are not the same thing, turns out!

Byron Katie talks about “your business, their business, and God’s business.” Much of what we worry about falls in the latter 2 categories, so when we can rein it in and come back home to this being, to our business, we can relax a bit. If we accept the reality of what we can control or even influence, we will see that it’s very little of our world. Maybe then we can give up trying… In a really healthy way.

When I find myself out of my own business and fretting about someone else I can actually say to myself, “OK, come back here… right here. This breath, this body, this being” and feel myself relax into the true moment I’m in.

What can you do differently?

Here are some ideas that have worked for me. YOU are the expert on you. See what resonates with you and what you might like to try. What do you know to do but have lost track of or gotten out of the practice of doing? (It happens to all of us!)

Begin by shifting the focus back from the other person to yourself. To your self-awareness, personal growth, to your peace, your joy, your desires, the core of who you are.

Shift your focus from what’s wrong to what’s right or good in your life. Recognize that this is not an either-or proposition. We live within the whole of it. There is always beauty and goodness to be found.

Find simple tasks that have a start and finish to them (or break larger tasks down into small chunks) - that sense of completion can be very satisfying.

It takes practice to come back to ground, back to center, when you live in never-ending chaos. To come home to yourself requires self-awareness in order to even know that you’ve left yourself. It takes a willingness to break the cycle of spin.

It takes a desire to honor your peace and well-being. We say we value these things over and over, yet how often do we de-prioritize them in favor of something else, consciously or unconsciously? How often do we push them away, choosing to swim in fear and despair instead? How often do we forget that we really do have choices about our own behavior? Where do we begin?

Begin with a PAUSE. You’ve likely heard me say this a million times, because this is the number one tool I know for getting grounded. Take a breath. Take a step back. Observe yourself - what are you doing? Where is your mind going? Get into your body and feel your breath moving in and out of you.

Rather than push away the worrisome thoughts and feelings, allow them to be there (they’re here anyway, and we really can’t stop them from coming). Meet them gently, with love, with understanding, with compassion and care. Feelings come whether they make sense or not. The thoughts you have probably do make sense, especially if past history has shown you what could happen. When we stop fighting with them or beating ourselves up for having them, they may just dissolve on their own. Likely they will at least soften. Put your hand on your heart or give yourself a gentle hug and just tend to your own precious being.

Also, get curious. Question your thoughts - are you certain that they’re true? What happens for you when you let go of or stop repeating a distressing story? When you stop spinning it over and over in your mind or telling it to others? Notice what you feel in your body, heart, and mind. What’s different in your energy and presence?

Once you catch yourself solidly in someone else’s business, find the practices that support you in disengaging and realigning with your true self, getting solid within your core.

How can you give yourself a break? How might you take some time and space away, for yourself? Putting the phone on Do Not Disturb, turning it off, or putting it away is one of the greatest things we can do for our own mental health these days. This little device can pull us out of the present more quickly than anything I know. It breaks connection with the person right in front of you (even having your silent phone out can do that - if it pings or chimes even more so). For more on that, check out Omega's article, "Put Down Your Device & Pick Up Your Life."

Also, if and when it makes sense, connect. Reach out. Listen to what’s up for the other person. You can share your concerns if there’s an opportunity to do so in a loving (non-lecturing) way, but it may be more valuable just to get together and listen, really listen.

Give yourself time for your own nourishment and nurturing. Are you eating in a way that truly feeds you, body, mind, and spirit? Are you getting the sleep you need? Drinking enough water? These are some of the basics, so start there.

Then, stretch a bit… when was the last time you just let yourself have fun? Played for no reason at all? Laughed out loud so hard you thought you’d pee your pants? Lazed around doing whatever you wanted for more than 5 minutes, without guilt or apology?

Nourishing our bodies, minds, hearts, and spirits is a worthwhile endeavor.   Unless and until we take care of ourselves, we’re going to keep showing up to life in a way we don’t like - frenzied, frantic, scared, angry, yelling…

Tune in to who you want to be and how you want to be, especially in this relationship. Do what you can to reconnect with that version of you.

Send out a prayer or light a candle for a person you love who you’re concerned about. Send love out through the airwaves - this fills you both up with this beautiful energy.

Send loving texts of support and don’t wait for or even expect a reply. Stop asking questions you don’t really want the answers to or won’t believe anyway.

Breathe and ease up. Consider that things might be ok (because maybe they really are). Let go of being the 911 operator, and maybe don’t be available for all the crises when they arrive. Stop being the one who thinks they have to connect all the dots.

Continue to learn and practice healthier, more effective, more intentional ways of being. Allow yourself to be imperfect and awkward as you try out things that might not come naturally. Discover the payoff for yourself.

What if?

What if things are working out in a way you can’t see or imagine? They might be. Isn’t it as possible as the disaster scenarios the mind so skillfully devises?

Permission to hope, to dream, and to remember that miracles happen all the time. You’ve heard the stories. Why couldn’t they be true for you or your loved one?

Remember to catch moments and appreciate the beauty that they offer. Lean into enchantment over fear. Rest into good enough and stop doing too much. Gentle yourself through the hard times. Remember, you are most worthy of your own love. And know that you are most certainly not alone in the struggles.

Thoughts?

How does this land with you? What are the ways you get back to your own business, your own center when life pulls you off? Please share in the comments. We learn together. We grow together. We find new ways when offered a fresh perspective.

And, if you would like to join Joanne Richards for her next (free program) Prescription for Peace on Saturday, December 10th, please register here. I find her offerings invaluable, and will be there! Maybe I'll see you! Who couldn't use a little more peace at this time of year?

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Catching Moments

11/25/2022

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It struck me recently how easy it is to miss the simple, little moments that make up most of life, waiting for some grand event - either a catastrophe or a wild victory. Which got me thinking how important it is to slow down, to pause much more regularly, in order to notice. To not miss what’s right here.

Fear... so adaptable...
I’ve also noticed how freaking adaptable fear is… it doesn’t go away. It just morphs from one thing to another. Once an issue feels pretty stable or secure, fear goes looking for what to worry about next.

And that’s why it’s important to pause from time to time and get some perspective. To say to yourself, “Self… would you have worried about this a year ago?” If the answer is “Hell no! This would have been better than anything I could have ever imagined…” well, then, we need to remind ourselves to notice what’s good and right in this moment. To appreciate it. To not miss it.

Will there always be things to be afraid of and worry about if you have that tendency? Sure! And, is it possible to keep the fear of what might be from getting in the way of the beauty of what’s right here? It is. With a lot of awareness and ability to take a step back.

That’s what I’ve been doing a lot lately. Finding myself getting caught up in a frenetic spin, checking myself with a sweet, “hey now, wait just a minute…” and reflecting. Seeking that perspective. Remembering how things have been much worse. Remembering that I have no idea what the future holds.

Coming into this moment and appreciating it for what it is.

Finding Beauty...
Cheryl Strayed shares her mother’s sage wisdom to “put yourself in beauty’s way.”   What does that mean to you? To me, it means looking for beauty each and every day. Beauty in the physical world and also beauty at the heart level - beautiful interactions, small, simple moments - a shared hug, a shared tear, a shared laugh, or a quiet moment alone. All beautiful in their own way.

And in Keep Moving: Notes on Loss, Creativity, and Change, Maggie Smith shares how she and her children regularly call out to one another for “beauty emergencies!” Come see the sunset before it’s gone. Catch the eagle in flight! Take in the beauty of the snow softly falling. Let everything else wait and come here right now. This is an emergency! I love it!!

To me all of these reminders call me back to my quest to live life while I’m here. To not miss the things that matter - saying yes to invitations and opportunities to be with people I love. Prioritizing the things and people who matter most to me and to my heart and soul. Finding gratitude - each and every day, no matter my mood, no matter the circumstances, it’s there waiting for me. Finding it helps to balance perspective even on dark, sad, scary days.

Finding One Good Thing...
This month my friend, Christine Callahan Oke proposed that for the month of November we share One Good Thing per day - #onegoodthing - and it’s been great. Knowing that every day I will find something to share that is it for me that day. Seeing what others are noticing and appreciating. I think I may just keep it going even beyond November. Why not? It’s these simple practices that help us build our resilience, our appreciation, and our presence in life.

Life is made of many moments. Sometimes the simplest are the sweetest. Let them be enough. Let go of waiting for the grand event or the grand finale. It really is the steps along the way that create the journey that is our life.

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Enchantment

11/1/2022

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Autumn Trees

Last time I wrote on September 7th, it was from a place of stillness…that magical place of contemplation and inner reflection. It was right before I went into the studio to record 111 Invitations audio book! I am thrilled to let you know that it is now finished and became available on Audible on October 19th (the anniversary of my Mama's passing)!! It feels really good to bring to completion a project I've dreamt of for about 6 years! Sometimes these things take time. How cool that this post is going up on 11-1!?

Sometimes it's a matter of finding the right people or allowing enchantment and magic to do their thing… in this case, I had no idea who could help me, how much something like this would cost, if I even had the rights to do it, etc… then all of a sudden, I connected with just the right person (Jennifer Collins - more about her later) who connected me with another “just right” person - Linda Mazur (also more about her in a bit - the 3 of us, plus Linda's husband, Jack, are cooking up some special goodness in November which we hope you'll join us for! Keep scrolling for all the details!).

Both of them connected me with Scott Fitzgerald of RocVox Recording (who I already sort of knew about because he records another friend's podcast…) and things came together super easily and super quickly! The studio location? Um, the very same office space where I held my very first Discovering A New Life Direction workshop many moons ago! I love those times of synchronicity, flow, ease, allowing things to unfold and come together with just the right amount of effort but very little force!

There’s a little touch of enchantment in that! “Enchantment…” a word that has awakened and enlivened me since Liz Gilbert offered an opportunity to know our enchantment in a virtual retreat. She shared that enchantment is the part of you that likes things… it’s where you get that warm, yummy feeling inside. Things like warm cinnamon vanilla pudding or a double rainbow or a baby’s giggle are laced with enchantment. Enchantment lives in each of us…

In a time of so much disenchantment it’s more important than ever that we find ways to connect with this vibrant energy. That we ask it to tell us what it likes, what it hates, who it wants to be around and what it hopes we never do again. Liz invited us each to write a letter to ourselves from our enchantment using the prompt “Dear _______, I am your enchantment and this is what I want to tell you.”

In 5 minutes, I had a letter that let me know so many truths about what I’m longing for, what I need more of in my life, what I need to let go of. For those who know me, you know I am captivated by sunsets on a daily basis… doesn’t matter that they happen ever day. They take my breath away. Same with full moons, golden leaves, puppy dogs, and hot fresh-baked cinnamon fried cakes! My enchantment loves to dance and sit by the fire. She loves being with people I love and making time for deep connections and playful ones too. She hates when I overwhelm my schedule with too many things or when I compare myself to others.

As other people in the group shared their letters, we heard common themes and saw that enchantment doesn’t cost millions of dollars or require a lot of time. It only requires that we stop to notice… it often lies in simple things like nature or other people. It exudes beauty. It’s readily accessible. It awakens our spirit and carries hope. It lives in fun and play.

Since that day in mid-September, I have added a bit of communing with enchantment each day in my morning journaling. I ask it what it’s got for me today. I notice my interactions with it are more playful than even my gratitude or when I was asking Love what it would have me know. With enchantment it’s more of a light-hearted banter. She reminds me to lighten up and not take things too seriously, while also encouraging me not to miss the most precious moments. I’ve turned to her on hard, sad days to see how she might accompany me even then. She reminds me what matters most and to not be too hard on myself.

She often reminds me, “Have fun! Don’t take it or yourself too seriously! Play with it! Have fun with it! Let me dance through it… let inspiration come…” On particularly hard days she holds me with “Be brave. Stand up for you. Don’t back down or hurt yourself to make someone else happy. Not for one minute. Don’t do it! Do not abandon yourself! Let yourself breathe and live and be who you are. Claim your life. Claim your joy. Love yourself.” Another time she offered, “Thank you for finding me again. I want to play with you. Bring me into everything - let me be a guiding light. It's so much more fun that way! Let me lighten up the dark and heavy times and add sparkle and juice to the fun ones!” She’s pretty wise, very loving, and has a great sense of humor!

My invitation to you:
Give it a try! I invite you to take 5 minutes and write yourself a letter from your enchantment. Start with Dear____ and see what enchantment would call you (it might be a playful nickname!), I am your enchantment and I want to tell you… See what it likes, what it hates, who it wants to be around and with whom it doesn’t feel it can come out at all.

Let this energy enliven your days and ways. I could feel it coursing through my veins for about a month til I lost touch with it a little in the daily grind. I’m re-connecting now and am very grateful to do so! I invite you to let enchantment light up your days.

Meditation
Our meditation this week, Autumnal Walk Guided Meditation, is led by guest meditator, Laura Gavigan, Founder of Mindful Matters in Rochester, NY. It is the perfect accompaniment for theme. Laura guides us on a sensory-rich autumn walk. I hope you enjoy it and that it brings you the peace and calm it brought to me.

My SoundCloud library has a wide variety of meditations - check it out and see which ones call to you.

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Love's Wishes

Answering the Call

Awareness, Recovery, & Retreat

Finding Stillness

Carrying Pain

The Gift of Presence

Out of the Darkness & Into the Light...

Mind Your Business

Catching Moments

Enchantment

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