Sunday was a brilliant day as I found myself immersed within a day long practice of “Light Bathing.”
This wasn’t my plan nor did that term pop into my mind until I was already deep within the process. With my morning shake in hand, my plans rearranged themselves when I was called to engage my Soul in meditation.
Sitting in my pajamas on my back deck, journal nearby, I closed my eyes and dropped into the moment.
The birds sang. My neighbor swept his patio. Planes occasionally flew above me. The breeze rustled my hair. I wandered through a visually rich inner landscape. My Soul Conversation was enlightening. Amidst all of this movement, Stillness emerged.
Opening my eyes, I noticed my dog resting nearby. He looked regal as he soaked in the sun – totally at rest and seemingly content. I realized that he often sought the light patches in the house or spent time resting in the sun on the back deck. Totally at rest and seemingly content.
Moving inside, my plans rearranged themselves again when I felt the desire to attend to my plants.
This again was unexpected. After all, I had a Dead Plant Sale when I lived as a resident advisor in the undergraduate dorms during grad school. I was clearly missing the ‘green thumb’ gene, yet here I was with a desire to tend to my plants. I have only one type of plant in my home and office given my seeming inability to keep them alive. Whatever type of plant I have, it is very forgiving and truly resilient.
I discovered that my plants were thirsty, the leaves wilted, and the vines long overdue for trim.
So I watered them. Trimmed them. Talked to them. Promised them more care. Finally I moved them all into the light.
When my husband came home, I informed him that our plants were “Light Bathing” until tomorrow.
I was struck by that term. I actually felt a warm pleasure throughout my body when it was said aloud. I noticed that I had turned on the lights that day in all of the rooms around me – using light as an accent of the beauty and tranquility of my surroundings.
Later in the day, while hiking in the woods, I noticed the presence of light everywhere.
I walked through ribbons of light in the denser forest and in bright sunshine through the field. When I prepared and ate my dinner, I blessed the food and those who brought it to me with Light.
I recognized that Light Bathing was not a new thing – it was a normal part of life. My dog already knew this, as did my plants.
Creating a new art piece that evening, I felt the lightness of enthusiasm and enjoyment while translating an inner vision into physical form. I chanted while I worked and consciously poured light into every layer of the mixed media painting.
My day ended with a practice to Steady the Light.
I resourced my energy field – physical body with the vital life force arising from the Earth and descending from the Heavens. Grateful for the day, it was no surprise to discover that it ended much as it had begun …
I was light soaked.
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.
Driving into Soul Sanctuary last weekend, I noticed the trees were engaged in a wild dance.
I should have paid closer attention as I got out of the car, because the wind nearly took me with it. Walking to the door, I had to lean in and brace myself for a moment just to stay upright. The cold whipped through my clothes and found every uncovered space, sharing its bone-numbing chill.
We recently had a big snow in my neck of the woods. Everyone was hunkered down. The fridge was full, chicken soup was bubbling on the stove, and my book pile sat patiently on the coffee table. As a kid, snowstorms were pure joy.
“I think we need to be friends.”
Those were the first words out of my mouth when I introduced myself to Rev. Hilda Covington. We’d just finished a county meeting of nonprofit mental health and social service agencies. She was the presenter that month. We almost didn’t meet because Hilda arrived an hour and a half late to a two-hour meeting.
Life has a rhythm. It speeds up and slows down according to mysterious forces.
Your personal rhythm dances with the celestial bodies, seasons of the year, developmental phases, and the pulse of your Soulful evolutionary process. Living in harmony with these rhythms is in many ways hard to understand as it is a complicated and deeply personal process. Your rhythm dances with everyone’s rhythm in the grand Cosmic Dance.
There are conversations you may instinctively avoid. Death. Dying. The journey beyond are among them. The final exhale. The closing of the body. The long walk home. The next place of being. In many ancient traditions, this is not an ending, but a sacred passage—a birth into new realms of being. Yet here, in this fast-moving world, death often remains veiled in silence, wrapped in fear, and avoided in conversation.
It’s uncomfortable feeling the darkness within the belly, leaking into the day. The waking to news that frightens, angers, and confuses you. This world gone astray.
