I went silent at the onset of 2022.
Staying home, I entered a 2 week silent retreat. Sure, I shared a handful of words with my husband and dog. But only a few niceties and indicators to let them know all was well and good.
Somewhere into the second week, I realized that if I were on a “real retreat,” I’d have the opportunity to offer Seva (sacred service). So I asked the question, “how might I offer service during this retreat?
The answer was swift: “Tend to your home.”
In that moment, I realized I was so focused upon my day to day life outside the home, I had neglected this beautiful space in which I and my family spend much of our lives together. I wondered where to begin. Reaching into my bathroom closet for something, I saw the disarray in my many bins originally meant to organize all of our stuff. And so it began.
It took two days to sort through everything hidden in plain sight.
A realization dawned as I safely tossed 5 year old prescriptions, 15 bottles of nail polish, a zillion odd buttons, dried up makeup, and so many half used products. An entire trash bag cleared out so much space. I also found unopened products. Unaware I had purchased doubles due my disorganization.
Lovely body creams, new makeup, a travel iron (I rarely iron at home), make up bags, Q tips, swim goggles, extra hair dryers, and so much more. I realized my neighbors at SisterHood would love to have these items. That prompted me to look under my sink and my daughter’s sink to see if there was anything extra.
I found unopened stocking stuffers from this year and last. That gave me pause.
In these tiny places, I found so much waste and needless accumulation. I shut the door on that beautifully organized, totally abundant bathroom closet and sat for a bit. Examining my habits of shopping, collecting, disregarding, repurchasing, disorganization, and general overconsumption.
What needs were being met? How mindful was I about what I purchased? How much trash was I creating?
I found many things, including a disrespect for the ease in which I have the privilege of living. And a dawning awareness that I had so much extra which I could share. This was a very practical awareness. Not a lofty appreciation for my abundance nor a general desire to help my human family. My realization was grittier than that.
I was staring into my inner shadow and the horror of mindlessly accumulating so much stuff for one tiny family.
It was a lovely, sobering awareness.
Sometimes a little bitchslap from your inner exploration packs a big wallop. I took my time diving into what this was showing my in all the ways I live, work, and play in this world. Seeing ripples of impact that I never considered and would not have conceived of in my own limited view.
One thing became abundantly clear. I had more closets.
I flowed through my days of silent meditation, mindful eating, gazing at the natural world, reading my wisdom texts, and engaging in Seva.
Room by room, closet by cabinet, I discovered a world of stuff.
Kitchen cabinets held unopened treasures and more items than we could use. Closets revealed North Face fleeces, dress coats, business attire, shoes, and purses that were in lovely condition and were seeking new life on some other body. China, crystal, jewelry, home decor, children’s dishes, unopened gifts, school supplies, picture frames, holiday decorations. The list went on.
As I packed each item, my silence sometimes gave way to song as I chanted my gratitude.
That I lived such a life of plenty and that these items would create warmth, beauty, and practical ease in their lives. I sorted according to the programs offered by SisterHood: prison to community, return to work, new homeowners, children’s programs, GED program, mentoring youth, the Boutique, and more.
It took 2 SUVs packed to the gills to transport everything. After 20 years of sending carloads and truckloads of donated stuff to SisterHood, we still had this much extra.
The visual led to a commitment. We couldn’t continue to accumulate stuff.
This decision led my husband and I to a serious examination of how we are living and what we are contributing. Positively and negatively. It’s a work in progress and covers everything from how we spend money, where we purchase, clarifying needs vs. wants, creating more sustainable habits, identifying what we keep or share, and how to invest our time, money, energy into that which is meaningful and supports life in all areas of the planet.
On Sunday, I’m going silent again for a week.
A bit modified this time as I’ll work 3 days and keep a few personal appointments. Other than that, I’ll be diving deeply and quietly within. Wondering what shadow and light will reveal itself this time. Eager to discover what else wants to be deconstructed. Clearing my own self structure of old ideas about who I am and what I need.
I’m not wondering too much about my Seva project for the week. I feel the basement calling me. So many closets to explore.
The Stuff Challenge is simple.
I invite you to take a look at your “stuff.” And not just the material kind. Dive deep into your being and see what you’ve outgrown and are ready to give away. Making room for new transformation. Cleaning your closets is an extension of this inner work. On the outer level, as you clear your material stuff (trash, share, upcycle), you make more space.
So you may decide consciously how you’d like to live and contribute to this beautiful world.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
We’re filling our landfills at an alarming rate. With so much stuff that could be recycled, reused, shared, or composted. The US is only exporting a third of what we did in 2015 since China no longer buys our recyclable waste like plastics. As the largest global producer of plastic, we only recycle about 9.8% of the materials (reports vary). And nearly one third of the world’s food supply is wasted each year. You CAN become part of the solution. Like the folks in Llanarth, Wales who gathered 100,000 dirty diapers to be cleaned, shredded and mixed into asphalt. Reminding us that not only does “shit happen,” but it can make roads instead of landfills. Now that’s a “Reason to Be Cheerful.”
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.
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. I have no background with horses, no training, and no experience in equine-assisted therapy. I simply met this magnificent Friesian, and something quietly familiar unfolded between us.
I fell in love.
The women who arrive in my classes, retreats, and therapy sessions are sincerely looking for healing, expansion, clarity, or sometimes just a little room to breathe.
They are thoughtful women, deeply engaged with the people and work they love. Rarely do they arrive because they want another spiritual philosophy. Most are carrying something much more ordinary.
A life that has become full. Beautiful in many ways, but crowded.
About twenty-five years ago, I was driving with a colleague to a local conference. As we approached the hotel entrance, I noticed an open parking spot near the front door.
“There’s a spot,” I said, pointing to the right. He drove past it.
A few seconds later, another one appeared. He drove past that one, too. Then I pointed to a third. “There’s a spot.” Without the slightest hesitation, Dan replied, “I’ll leave that for someone else.” And he calmly parked much farther away. As we walked to the entrance, I asked about that statement.
During the Seeding the Light Gathering, I had the privilege of hosting Pascual and Jose Tomas in our home.
They feel like family as this was their second visit to New Jersey. We’ve also spent a week together in Damanhur and the Temples of Humankind in Italy. I’ve sat in many ceremonies with Pascual in Peru’s Sacred Valley. His flute playing often carried me up mountain trails in the thin air and hot sun.
I planned to work a bit, complete some projects, and enjoy slow days with plenty of relaxation.
All of that certainly occurred, but beneath it all, something else began quietly inviting my attention.
The plane had begun its slow fall toward the earth when a sharp ache pierced my ears. Half-dozing, half-aware, I surfaced into the moment just as the toddler in front of me woke with a scream that broke her open. The sound wasn’t defiance or misbehavior. It was pain.
I felt her small body struggling to make sense of something she couldn’t name.
Her mother bent over her with the tenderness of someone trying very hard to be a good parent. But her soothing came dressed in urgency, in the quiet pressure to behave, to use words, to be okay, to not disturb those seated around her. Her voice shook with the effort of managing her child’s distress and her own rising shame.
