Lady Uppity had slowly, finally, stopped assigning authorship of her inner state to other people. She now recognized just how deeply she had betrayed herself by remaining tethered to others’ opinions and needs. The atmosphere of the kingdom of Proper Behavior — so named by the Duke of Worrington — was changing. Once, it had… Continue reading There Was Now a Moon Circle on Thursdays
Tag: mindfulness
Moving
This week, I thought I would revisit an older post about home. But as I sat with it, I realized the truer story is the one unfolding now: boxes, decisions, memories, and the quiet emotional weight of deciding what stays and what goes. Years ago, my late husband Craig and I built a home on… Continue reading Moving
Like Water, It Will Pass
Feelings come and go like clouds in a windy sky. Conscious breathing is my anchor. — Thích Nhất Hạnh The Sacral Chakra (Svadhisthana) is water.And water was never meant to be controlled into stillness—it is meant to move, swirl, rise, fall, soften, and release. Our emotions are much the same. They come like waves—rising, cresting,… Continue reading Like Water, It Will Pass
Today Is My Peaceful Day
Each morning, I begin with a simple ritual.I write in my journal: Today is my peaceful day. I write it at least three times.Then I stand, feel my feet on the floor, glance around the room, and speak the words out loud. These words are more than a mere affirmation.I feel them deep in my… Continue reading Today Is My Peaceful Day
The Body Is Always Listening
Learning to Notice the Quiet Signals That Guide us Back to Ourselves She wrote a lovely poem about the color blue — how that word can describe both sadness (I feel blue) and happiness, even unconditional love, symbolized by blue skies. As I read her words, I found myself thinking about the throat chakra. Blue… Continue reading The Body Is Always Listening
When We Did Not Turn Away
In our Sunday Women’s Circle, we spoke to the elephant in the room. One by one, each woman faced the feelings churning deep within. Courage became our staff to lean on. It wasn’t only the fear of a world that feels unstable. It was the bitter taste of betrayal. Still, one at a time, we… Continue reading When We Did Not Turn Away
Rooted
There’s a woman seated in the forest, dressed in roots.She’s not trapped.She’s rooted. This morning, I woke shaking.My body remembering.Stories in the world tapping on old doors. “No. Not this again.”I cried.When will it end? For a moment, I wanted the memories gone — erased, buried, finished once and for all. But wanting them gone… Continue reading Rooted
A Doorway, Not a Wound
A short while ago, someone posted something on social media that felt unkind to me.It was a slanted half-truth — just enough distortion to sting. I don’t know this person well. I suspect they were moving from their own unresolved pain. Still, it hurt. It was passive-aggressive. Aimed. And I found myself asking the old… Continue reading A Doorway, Not a Wound
Victim and Villain: Two Sides of the Same Coin
The pain is part of my story — but it is not the story. It was my usual Thursday morning session, sitting with my trusted friend and Zen therapist. Once again, I was sharing the tragedy I believed was my life. Even though he’d heard my story countless times, he listened with deep, loving compassion.… Continue reading Victim and Villain: Two Sides of the Same Coin
What Does it Mean to Walk Peace Into the World — In a Kitchen, In a Sentence, In a Breath?
No, I’m not walking 2,300 miles. But I am walking — through grief, through illness, through fear, through change, through truth-telling, and through writing. Each step becomes a meditation. With each step, I breathe, reminding myself: I am here. I belong. I am safe. In this way, even the smallest movement becomes a quiet prayer… Continue reading What Does it Mean to Walk Peace Into the World — In a Kitchen, In a Sentence, In a Breath?