Tag: Ordinary Life

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Flying with Owen

Rocketing down the runway a few days ago, I suddenly remembered another flight home from the West Coast many years ago.

I was sitting at my gate, listening to music and absorbed in a book that had been waiting far too long in my “to read” pile. I had several uninterrupted hours ahead of me and intended to enjoy every one of them.

My attention was interrupted only once, when I heard a young boy urging his much younger brother to hurry.

“We’re going to miss the plane!”

Both boys were pulling their own small suitcases and weaving somewhat precariously through the crowd while their mother followed, gently assuring them that they had plenty of time.

I smiled and returned to my reading.

When I boarded the plane, I discovered that the older boy was sitting beside my window seat, engrossed in arranging his book and snacks. I greeted the mom and boy and settled quite contentedly inside the private world I had created with my music and book.

“Excuse me,” the boy said. “Can we switch seats, please?” He wanted the window.

I understood. The window was part of the magic of flying. I agreed to switch, even as my anticipated cocoon of privacy quietly disappeared. The middle seat isn’t my favorite, but I was young once and I do love a good view from the plane.

His mom was genuine in her thanks and I met Owen before his nose was pressed up against the oval window.

Once he was settled beside the window with his seat belt fastened, I returned to my music and book. I was remarkably good at narrowing my attention and tuning out everything around me.

Until a small, persistent movement at the edge of my vision entered my awareness.

Owen’s legs were bouncing.

Sitting cross-legged in his seat, he was practically quivering.

I couldn’t yet tell whether he was anxious or delighted, but he had captured my attention. There is something wonderfully contagious about a child who can barely contain his excitement.

We had begun moving toward the runway. I leaned toward him. “Do you like to fly?”
“I love to fly, especially when we take off.”

Now, here was a boy after my own heart. I immediately became grateful for those bouncing legs. They had reminded me that I was about to fly through the sky inside an enormous metal machine, a marvel in itself. And I had nearly missed it because I was absorbed in someone else’s story.

As the plane taxied, Owen and I discussed where we might be going and how we would know when we had reached the runway.

When we finally arrived, his legs began moving with even greater enthusiasm. A piece of gum suddenly flew through the air and landed in Owen’s lap, surprising both of us. His mother had apparently decided that the moment called for gum. Owen nodded his thanks, began chewing, and turned his full attention back to the window.

“Here we go,” I said as the engines grew louder and the plane began moving down the runway.
“That was the nose lifting off,” Owen declared.
“You think?”
“Yep.”
“Look at the terminal. Is it still there?”
“Oh, it’s still there.”

The plane gathered speed. “Now that was the nose lifting off,” he announced with great authority. Then he noticed that the terminal was still level with the window. “Hmmmn.”

“Tell me when you feel yourself pushed back in your seat and the terminal disappears,” I suggested. A moment later, the plane lifted from the runway and pressed us both back into our seats.

Owen turned to me. “THAT was the nose of the plane lifting up.”
“Yes, Owen. THAT was lift off!”

Together, we leaned toward that little oval and watched the terminal disappear and the landscape grow smaller beneath us. Then Owen returned to his book and I returned to mine.

Throughout the flight, he surfaced only occasionally to share something funny he had read or ask his mother for a snack. By then, I was attuned enough to enjoy him without leaving the world of my book entirely.

I remember feeling grateful that, of all the possible people who might have occupied the seat beside me, I was flying with Owen.

His joyful, jiggling legs had brought me back to the moment I was actually living.

I still love disappearing into a good book. I definitely appreciate a quiet flight and the rare pleasure of uninterrupted time. But sometimes Life arrives at the edge of your carefully narrowed attention and asks you to look up.

Sometimes it even sits beside you, asks for the window seat, and begins to quiver.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Ecological Belonging

Everything belongs. Everything has its place in the grand web of Life.

I was thinking about this recently as I wandered through the forest and stopped by a lake to chat with an old turtle hosting a flowing forest of algae upon his shell. I watched the long strands lift from his shell to dance in the water as he nibbled on balls of algae, pausing occasionally to gaze at me.

Nothing in nature exists by itself.

Every tree is in relationship with the soil, fungi, underground waterways, rain, wind, sunlight, insects, birds, and creatures sheltering beneath its branches.

That which is visible and microscopic engages in a relational dance of nourishment, consumption, and destruction. Life competes and cooperates. It grows and decays. Some of what you encounter is astonishingly beautiful and some decidedly less so. Yet everything has a place within the ecosystem.

Everywhere I move, I witness this ecological belonging.

In the Andean path, you experience the world as Living Energy.

Pachamama and heavens. Mountains, oceans, rivers, clouds. Elements, animals, ancestors and humans. Past and future. Seen and unseen. Nothing exists outside the living fabric. Relationship moves in every direction.

A central practice in this wisdom tradition is Ayni, the way of reciprocity. You recognize yourself as both steward and relative within this living weave. And the message comes forth.

You are welcome here.

You belong within the weave of Living Energy.

You are essential in this garden.

After listening to the Angelic realm for over twenty years, I recognize the same messages of welcome and belonging.

You are wanted here.
We delight in your presence.
You are precious and your existence matters.

You are already woven in the cosmic light.

And within Via Sophia, the Way of Living Wisdom, I find it again.

The Mystical Mothers do not ask you to prove that you deserve entrance to the garden. The Great Mother reminds you that you were born within it.

You belong here.
You belong to Life.
You are part of this garden.

You are a precious blossom already planted here.

Different traditions. Different languages. Different ways of understanding existence.

Beneath them, I hear the same message.

You already have a place. This is ecological belonging.

It isn’t belonging as a feeling you achieve when the right people finally love you in the right way.

Ecological belonging is more fundamental than that.

It doesn’t require achievement or fitting yourself into an acceptable way of being.

From the moment you enter this life, you are already woven into relationships that extend in every direction.

You have a place within the family and lineage you came through, even when those relationships are difficult or you choose not to remain in contact. You have a place in the human family, among the other creatures with whom you share this planet, within the history that preceded you and the future that will continue after you.

Relationships change. Communities come and go. You lose people, leave places, become estranged, feel lonely, or long for relationships that do not yet exist.

Belonging does not erase any of this. Belonging is foundational.

You belong when surrounded by those you love. You belong when isolated and feeling lost. You belong when uncertain of your place in the world.

You are a creature of this Earth, breathing air, drinking water, soaking up light and walking upon ground that has held life for billions of years.

Perhaps one of the great misunderstandings of belonging is imagining that someone else has the authority to grant it to you or exclude you.

The natural world suggests otherwise. Nothing has to demonstrate value to earn a place in nature.

The bird doesn’t confer belonging upon the tree.
The tree doesn’t grant membership to the moss.
The water doesn’t award the right to swim to the turtle.

They are already participants in the same living world. As are you.

Perhaps the invitation isn’t to seek those places where you belong. Perhaps it is to remember the place you have never actually left. And to choose how to live as a human who belongs in the garden where you are planted.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Seeking Treasure

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.

Somewhere along the way, we grew up and stopped seeking treasure.

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. 

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Leaving Home to Arrive Home

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. You might call it a Divine encounter. You might call it awakening. You might call it healing.

I wasn’t entirely sure what I was looking for. I only knew there seemed to be a place people spoke about. That place beyond ordinary life. A place where greater peace, greater freedom, and greater love existed. And I wanted to know it for myself.

On the first evening, I lay on a mattress beneath an open-air pavilion in the Costa Rican jungle.

Night settled around the group as the ceremony began. I was relaxed, open, and curious.
As the plant medicine took effect, I remember making one simple commitment to myself. Don’t turn away. Whatever appears, it is here for you. Meet it.

For hours, I was shown scenes from ordinary moments of my own life.

Every one revealed where I had turned away from what was actually present.

Countless moments where Life was present but I was not.

When someone reached toward me and I wasn’t fully there. 
How beauty quietly presented itself and I hurried past. 
Ways I turned away from myself. 
Living my life while imagining that real life was somewhere else.
Times I let go the Mystery and a sense of wonder.

Scene after scene unfolded. Some scenes were so small and ordinary that I might never have noticed them at all. Others were much more significant and far reaching. There was no judgment accompanying what was bring offered.

Only the opportunity to see clearly. And with the seeing came tears. I cried for hours because I suddenly understood what I had been missing.

I wasn’t grieving my failures or feeling concern about hurting anyone. I was grieving the countless missed opportunities for relationship that had quietly passed by while I was looking somewhere else.

The next morning, I walked alone along a path through the jungle.

Trees swayed gently in the warm breeze, providing a gentle landing for the birds who sang beneath the bright sun. My body felt tired with some lingering sense of motion sickness.

A hangover of sorts from a night of traveling through so many landscapes.

Walking along that path, my inner voice spoke clearly: Now the work begins.

 

Yes, I understood and I agreed.

Almost immediately I heard that same voice laugh. You came here for a magic pill, didn’t you?

Touche. Indeed, I did. I had to laugh. Some part of me believed I would arrive in Costa Rica, meet the Divine, have love break me open, and leave transformed into an entirely new person.

Instead, I was being invited back into relationship with my own life.

The ceremonies continued for three more nights. Each one delivered exactly what it needed.

As I returned home, that invitation reverberated through my being. 

Now the work begins.

Not the work of becoming someone new. It was the staying within the ordinary moments I was living.

It was the invitation to return to the people in front of me, my own body, the quiet beauty, and the potential to meet the moment as it arrived.

To turn toward the life that had never stopped inviting me into relationship.

Looking back now, I don’t think I went to Costa Rica seeking some mystical state, inner contentment, or existential peace. I think all along I went seeking my own life. And Life, in its mysterious generosity, gave me exactly what I needed. 



Not another destination. 

A way of returning home.

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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What If Life Isn’t Asking You to Become Someone Else?

Over the past several months, I have been immersed in conversation with women.

In therapy sessions, Via Sophia circles, and at dinner tables. During walks, ceremonies, and quiet moments after gatherings have ended. I’ve been listening as stories unfold. Different women. Different lives, histories, and circumstances.

Yet beneath the details, I keep hearing a remarkably similar story. Many women are tired.

Not simply tired because life is busy. They’re tired because they have spent decades trying to meet expectations that were never fully their own.

These beautiful women have cared for children, partners, parents, communities, clients, organizations, and causes. They’ve built careers where they persevered, succeeded, and contributed. All the while carrying responsibilities with extraordinary devotion and competence.

Many women have also brought this same determination to their spiritual lives.

Exploring how to heal, grow, and awaken. Working diligently to become more loving, conscious, and present. Always reaching toward some future version of themselves that often seemed just beyond the horizon.

There’s nothing wrong with any of this. In fact, it reflects something beautiful. 



These women care deeply, want to contribute well, and intend to live meaningful lives. All share a desire to become the fullest expression of who they could be. I know these desires. I, too, have lived them.

But eventually other questions begin to emerge.

What if Life is not actually asking me to become someone else? Perhaps there is nothing wrong with me, and there never was, so I’ve got nothing to fix? What if wisdom is not found in striving, but in relaxation and restoration and relationship?

Again and again, I witness women arrive at this threshold. Not through force or achievement. Nor through mastering another technique or collecting another insight.

Most women arrive here thoroughly exhausted. And then approach the threshold through honesty.

They begin to examine the cultural messages absorbed, expectations inherited, and identities they carefully constructed. And recognize how brilliantly they adapted to the world around them. And how intelligently they learned to survive, succeed, care for others, and contribute.

Yet somewhere beneath all of that brilliance, effort, and now exhaustion, another life has been quietly waiting.

 

A life that is less concerned with managing outcomes and more interested in participating in the present moment.

A life that is willing to rest.

A life that knows nourishment is not a reward for hard work. Rather, it is a necessity for vital engagement with whatever arrives. These women recognize that life that can make room for contraction without turning it into failure. And allow tenderness, beauty, delight, and joy to emerge.

This is one of the gifts I see emerging through the Via Sophia Circles.

Via Sophia invites women to enter relationship with Life itself through the wisdom of the feminine and the 13 Mystical Mothers.

So you may directly enter into relationship with life deeply enough that wisdom, love, and beauty can move through you. Not as ideals or goals, but as lived experience.

Given that women have lived decades with crowded schedules, overflowing with responsibility, Via Sophia encourages a slower pace and invites you to gently notice what is arising. Whatever is alive in your life deserves your curiosity. Not to solve, arrange, or even understand. Just noticing and making some gentle room for what is actually here.

Meeting life. Just as it is. Without needing to change it or yourself. Imagine that.

The 13 Mystical Mothers serve as partners in this exploration. They arrive to support, embrace, and invite you to take a breath. They remind you that wisdom is not something to achieve, but something you recognize and remember. And how belonging, beauty, and pleasure emerge naturally when you soften enough to notice what is already here.

As the nervous system settles and your perceptual capacity naturally expands, life begins to feel different.

You breathe more fully and notice a sense of ease. You soothe rather than criticize. You rest and play without justification. Laughter returns and you enjoy your days without waiting until your life conditions improve.

Releasing the effort and need to manage life, you are free to participate with what is already showing up.

Here you discover that support has been offered through friendship, nature, love, community, the living world, and the quiet wisdom that arises when you stop arguing with reality.

What surprises many women is that transformation still occurs. In fact, it often unfolds more naturally than expected.

As you create room for rest, curiosity, beauty, and honest relationship with yourself, life begins reorganizing on its own. So you may discover a sturdiness that was never dependent upon perfect circumstances. And experience greater ease, deeper trust, and a growing capacity to meet whatever arises.

And perhaps that is what Via Sophia has been teaching all along. That Life manages itself remarkably well.

When you stop trying to force life into a particular shape, you become available to its wisdom.

You begin to notice what is already unfolding. You meet the moment with greater trust. This invites you to live more fully, consciously, and beautifully. 

Not someday. You begin right now. Gently laying down decades of conditioned effort and discovering what remains when striving is no longer required.

Via Sophia, The Way of Feminine Wisdom, is not a path of self-improvement. It is not about perfection, transcendence, or becoming someone better. It is an invitation into a different way of living.

A natural unfolding which invites intimacy with Life.

As a conscious participant in reality, so you move with Life rather than against it. Exploring a deep intimacy with Life, you become even more available to the wisdom, love, and beauty that move through you and to you.

If this conversation speaks to something you recognize in yourself, you can learn more here about the Via Sophia Circles and my upcoming Via Sophia Costa Rica Immersion.

Or better yet, reach out. Let’s relax together and have a conversation.

 

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions.