Today, I wanted to send you encouragement. And love.
I didn’t need to add more advice or opinion to your inbox. There is plenty of helpful guidance out there for managing election stress. And I believe you are wise at your core and know how to care for yourself.
Turn down the outer noise. Tune into your inner wisdom. Okay, that’s done.
I wanted to send you my prayer today. The prayer I sat within all day yesterday. I wondered how to turn that peace into words. How to hold the steady focus on the deepest love while acknowledging the confusion, anxiety, grief, anger, and loss.
To recognize the shit show we’re living in. And acknowledge how very hard it is. How very brave you are. And how creatively you are managing this time. And how I am with you in it. Deep within it all.
I couldn’t quite find the words. Strange, I know. But, it was so quiet within.
And then words came to me through a source so perfect, so beautiful, so creative, and so joyful, that I had to share this song with you.
It’s not my song. It’s the Bengsons that will guide you forward with their Keep Going Song.
How did they know my prayer for you? How did they sing the thoughts that had not yet surfaced to my lips? I am enamored with their talent. And their hearts.
I hope you listen and feel the encouragement.
And the love with a sprinkle of delight and wonder.
Peace be with you and with all. No exceptions.
The power of a heartfelt visual message does wonders. Especially during isolation and the separation from the human need to gather with one another. Seeing a smiling face lights up the mirror neurons in your brain. Encouraging the feel good chemicals to jazz up your system. Hearing a friend’s voice or a family member’s concern warms your heart and brings you back into connection. Human connection is essential for wellbeing. While hugging and hanging out in person isn’t viable, video is a great way to connect when you share your voice, smile, and expression of love.
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.
