Last week, I left the house a little earlier than usual.
Not because the day ahead was spacious. Quite the opposite. It was full. Appointments, responsibilities, errands to run, bags still to pack for my upcoming conference. One of those days where the hours already seem spoken for before they even begin.
And yet, before leaving, I found myself lingering in the garden.
The overgrown bushes had finally been removed, opening up an entire section of the bed I hadn’t really seen clearly in years. New flowers and shrubs had recently been planted, and I stood there for a few moments appreciating the fresh openness of it all. The morning light and the possibility of adding a few colorful blossoms. The beauty of something being tended and made new.
Then I glanced at the clock. My appointment was in fifteen minutes, and I had fourteen minutes to get there. So I got moving.
As I rounded the final curve on my street, I suddenly noticed a small mallard duck standing directly in the middle of the road.
Not hurrying. Not startled. Just standing there as though the morning belonged entirely to him.
I pulled alongside him and lowered the window. “Buddy,” I said aloud, “this is probably not the safest place to be.”
His green head shimmered in the sunlight, absolutely beautiful. He looked directly at me and quacked back as though we were genuinely having a conversation. Then, instead of moving away, he took a few small steps closer to the car and lifted his head.
No urgency. No concern.
No indication whatsoever that he intended to leave his chosen spot in the curve.
So after a short, delightful conversation about the nature of life, I slowly drove on with a quiet little prayer that he would stay safe and that the drivers behind me would be paying attention in the early morning light.
Then, just as I checked my rearview mirror, I saw another duck fly low across the street behind me.
And there he went. He lifted gracefully into the air and followed her. He wasn’t stranded in the road at all. He was simply waiting for his gal.
By the time I reached the main road, something inside me had softened.
The fountains in the pond shimmered beside the street. The sky was a brilliant blue. The morning felt unexpectedly alive and intimate somehow, as though Life had quietly reached out and tapped me on the shoulder before the fullness of the day began.
Nothing dramatic happened.
Just a few moments of direct contact with a living world that is constantly speaking, responding, moving, relating. And somehow, it was exactly what I needed.
A reminder that life is not only schedules and tasks and moving efficiently from one obligation to the next.
It is also beauty. Pausing in stillness and appreciation. Being in relationship. Enjoying small unexpected encounters. Belonging.
It is the recognition that the world cares well for itself without my intervention.
And the beneficial pleasure of realizing this when I am willing to slow down enough to notice.
Just a note …. no mallard ducks were harmed in the encounter nor in the use of AI who conveniently recreated the scene for your imaginal pleasure.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
Studies show that even brief encounters with nature can reduce stress, support emotional wellbeing, improve attention, and promote feelings of connection. A slower pace allows the body to settle, the mind to clear, and life’s simple beauty to nourish you. Why not add a 5 minutes in the natural world without your phone or any conversation. Take a slow stroll, sit and gaze around you, and open your senses. Breathe and discover what arises without any goal. Your whole being will thank you.
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 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.
ia Sophia has arrived. This “Way of Wisdom” offers an invitation to step upon a Living Spiral Path and discover a new understanding of what it means to embody the Mystical Feminine.
For the past fifteen years I have lived and taught within the Mystical Feminine. I have sat within many circles and immersions with women as we explored how to practically and powerfully engage Feminine wisdom in everyday life.
