A blanket of snow covers my town, adding a loveliness to the day.
And a stillness that invites me to sit and look out the window. To gaze upon the brilliant white lawn scattered with prints of the deer enjoying their leisurely morning commute. Stopping to snack on my bush, as if I planted the garden for their pleasure.
The trees shake with the wind, breaking free from the snow.
I see how this dance not only protects the trees, but prepares for the wrapped lights to brighten the night when it arrives. My ears perk at the sound of the birds, pulling my eyes to the feeder.
There is a calmness to the hustle and bustle with a steady stream of feathered visitors.
As if an invisible air traffic controller guides the pattern. Alighting on the tree top and moving down the branches until the way is clear. There’s room for 5 birds at a time in this system. Rotating tiny flying machines, some wrapped in red, eat their fill and lift off to destinations unknown. Even the ground crew is busy at work. Sometimes a chipmunk, other times my dog.
Taking turns and wasting nothing.
The stillness awakens a lightness of being as my breath settles me within my body. It’s a pleasure to sit still and look. This mostly quiet world tells me stories of partnership and beauty. Cooperation and kindness. Survival and creativity.
An entire library in my backyard.
A breeze gusts the snow in a swirling pattern. Upward and outward. Light as a snowflake. Heavy as a blanketed lawn. Gazing at this natural landscape, feeling the warmth and beauty within my home, I reflect on this pandemic holiday season. The sweetness and grief. The gain and the loss. The lightness and the heaviness. The disappointment and the celebration.
To witness the intimate, interdependent nature of life. To recognize the benefit of the art of giving and receiving. Far beyond a wrapped present from a store, it is the sharing of love that makes a holiday. And a life.
Love dances through my backyard amidst the blowing, flying, and shaking.
Without a focus upon the giver and the receiver, it becomes one magnificent movement. There’s no telling where Love begins and where Love ends. Perhaps that’s the greatest lesson of all. No beginning. No ending.
Just Love swirling about. Creating all things bright and beautiful.
May your holiday, however it is celebrated, be a blessing to your life. And may you realize in your moments of stillness how deeply you are enveloped in this movement of life.
Giving and receiving. Dancing within the complexity of it all.
Thank you for your generous gifts throughout the year. Your presence in Soul Sanctuary and online. Your gifts and donations for Love Orphanage and SisterHood. The privilege of sharing space with you in person and virtually.
It’s a wonderful thing, this Life, and I’m grateful to be sharing it with you.
2021 is almost upon us. I hope you’ll join me for the virtual Sacred Intent Retreat on Saturday, January 9th. Let’s discover your Soul’s intent for this New Year. I’m looking forward to the magic we’ll create together. Please sign up soon as we’re limiting our retreat space to 20 women.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Food banks offer dignity and support with home delivery. Since the pandemic began, utilization of Feeding Children Everywhere’s services has soared, from 40,000 households in 2019 to 61,000 this year. Many people have felt too self conscious to head to the food bank. But with jobs lost and families hurting, innovation makes getting food and honoring families possible. Imagine the power of a service similar to Instacart or Amazon delivery harnessed by a nonprofit food bank. Kudos to Feeding Children Everywhere. Let’s not forget our neighbors in our communities. However you help out, do consider the benefit of giving … and receiving.
Learn the one essential skill that allows you to face any challenge with confidence, sturdiness, and inner calm.
More than a technique. It’s a game changer.
There are moments in life when something ancient and deeply meaningful finds its way into your life. Two years ago, I was seated in the doorway of the Sun Temple in Ollantaytambo in Peru. I had climbed the ancient steps, communed with the spirit of the mountain, and gazed out over the landscape.
There comes a moment, sometimes quietly, when you realize you don’t want to keep postponing your life. Not in a dramatic way, nor as a declaration, but as a simple, honest recognition that what you are living now matters. You begin to sense an invitation, not to fix yourself or become someone else, but to turn toward your life as it is and meet it more fully.
I enjoy airports. Most likely because they signal that a travel adventure is about to begin. My family followed the “arrive two hours early” rule for every flight, and I’m still a fan. It allows me to relax and enjoy the airport phase of the travel experience. I’m not worried about security lines, overpriced water, or what boarding group I’m in. Although, truth be told, those days of being upgraded to first class have left a subtle longing for wider seats and fewer people.
I remember walking into Westminster Cathedral in London, looking up, and being struck still by the vast beauty and scale of the architecture. People milled around me, some even bumping into me, yet my face remained turned heavenward. I could not move. Eventually I noticed my body returning to its normal sense of size, as if I had taken a journey within that vastness without realizing it.
I’ve always had a distant relationship with horses.
I once rode the pony a friend cared for at a local barn when I was a pre-teen. I’ve done a few trail rides, including what felt like a few death-defying adventures in the Colorado Rockies. I even calmly steered my horse back onto the trail after she reared and raced down a small forest hill. It was a natural instinct. After all, I’ve watched enough television to witness experienced equestrians deftly managing rearing horses.
I have been reading a series of novels set in the late nineteenth century that portray the social structures women were expected to live within. Hardships were often hidden behind social niceties, beautiful homes, fashionable clothing, and the polite manner considered fitting for a lady of society. A woman’s ability to enjoy simple pleasures such as reading freely, choosing her friendships, or expressing her opinions was often restricted by her husband.
