When I was young, the neighborhood kids and I would spend an entire day playing a game we called Seeking Treasure.
Ranging in age from seven to eleven, we’d split into two teams and retreat to separate houses, where we sprawled across the floor mapping out a plan to outwit the other team. We’d write and decorate clever clues on slips of paper. Each team had a designated area of the neighborhood and a firm no spying rule.
We hid clues in trees, on porches, in birdhouses, and mailboxes.
Every game brought a new challenge as we searched for hiding places that would thwart the opposing team. One clue led to another. You didn’t know where you were going when you started, and you couldn’t gauge how far along the other team was in their quest.
That was the fun of it.
At the agreed-upon time, the teams met at a central location. Once the first clues were formally exchanged, the race began. I honestly can’t recall a single clue or whether there was even a treasure to be found.
Yet I have a visceral memory of packs of children running madly through the neighborhood. Putting our heads together to decipher a clue. Climbing trees, sticking our hands into small places, getting really dirty, and screaming wildly for everyone to hurry and keep up.
It was exhilarating fun.
I remember the pleasure of creating, the camaraderie, and a keen feeling of aliveness. Strangely, I have absolutely no memory of winning or losing.
Eventually, both teams ended up at the designated house where somebody’s mom had snacks waiting.
Apparently that’s when we learned that every good quest should end with celebration and plenty of food, no matter who won.
Even if you never played a game like this, I imagine you left behind at least some of that childhood creativity, freedom of movement, playful exploration, and trust that one clue would somehow lead to another.
Instead, you probably became very good at figuring things out.
You make lists, research decisions, compare possibilities, and ask other people what they think. You may even try to understand what something means before you’ve had a chance to experience it and see what emerges.
There’s nothing wrong with thinking. Your intelligent mind serves you beautifully. But some things are discovered differently. Not by trying harder to find an answer, but by becoming receptive enough to notice what meets you.
I think we need to play again.
That’s the spirit behind Awaken Your Inner Oracle, a day of Oracle Card Readings and Treasure Mapping at Soul Sanctuary.
Imagine arriving among friends, new and old, with a few questions that are alive in your life and absolutely no requirement to know the answers. We’ll play with Oracle cards, share lunch together, and spend the afternoon seeking treasure throughout Soul Sanctuary.
You’ll have an opportunity to relax, play, follow your curiosity, and discover how much more you perceive when you’re not trying so hard to be intuitive.
I’ve enjoyed so many days like this with others at Soul Sanctuary, sitting around playing with Oracle cards, seeking clues, and having no idea what we’ll find.
My favorite part is watching the doubt disappear as people discover how easily they can perceive the wisdom hidden in plain sight.
When I was running around the neighborhood all those years ago, I trusted that something would catch my attention and lead me toward the next clue. I didn’t need to know where I was going or how things would turn out before I began.
I just played.
On Saturday, September 26, I’d love to invite you to come play with me. Bring your curiosity and whatever questions are alive in your life. Let’s have some fun and see what finds you.
Come for one workshop or make a day of it. And I’ll definitely have snacks waiting for you. Some traditions are worth keeping.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
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.
When I was young, the neighborhood kids and I would spend an entire day playing a game we called Seeking Treasure. We’d sprawl across the floor mapping out a plan to outwit the other team. We’d write and decorate clever clues on slips of paper.
I was driving home with my daughter when we noticed a large snapping turtle crossing the roadway. It was a tiny back street lined with a small pond.
I recently found myself thinking about activism. About the many ways we show up for what matters to us.
As I considered this, three memories arrived. Rapidly, as if they were part of my contemplation.
Three months ago, I unexpectedly entered into a relationship with a horse.
I met Zor during a visit to Liberty Stables in Florida, where I had gone to spend time with a friend’s horses. I had no particular expectations.
Eight years ago, I traveled to Costa Rica for a week-long retreat centered around ayahuasca, breathwork, yoga, and deep inner exploration.
Like many people who are drawn to these experiences, I went seeking something.
The women who arrive in my world are sincerely looking for healing, expansion, clarity, or sometimes just a little room to breathe. Rarely do they arrive because they want another spiritual philosophy.
more because they have a life that has become full. Beautiful in many ways, but crowded.
