Tag: Story

Posted on by

Every Brilliant Thing I Noticed

Some days don’t announce themselves as anything more than what they are.

My husband and I celebrated our wedding anniversary last weekend with a trip to New York City to see Every Brilliant Thing with Daniel Radcliffe.

On the way up, settling into the lower level of the train, I noticed the view. Train tracks, trash, and graffiti on concrete walls. I realized I’d prefer the upper car with a view of the landscape and the brilliant blue sky. This prompted a move at the same time the train gained its own momentum. Swaying down the aisle, in sync with the speeding train, we dropped into a row where I claimed the window seat.

Only to notice that the glass was blurred and no view was available.

Without distraction, our hushed conversation was relaxed. Along the way, I noticed the woman eating her lunch, two people quietly speaking behind me, a woman reading How Proust Can Change Your Life, and the way the light moved across the seats.

There was nothing remarkable about that journey. And yet, it was not nothing.

Arriving in the city, the wind caught my ears in that intense, almost surprising way it does between buildings. Cold, immediate, alive. I didn’t rush past it. I noticed it. And again, blocks later, when the cold turned sharp within my ears.

New York City is not my favorite place. To me, it’s loud, fast, dirty, and a bit abrasive to my system.

I wasn’t concerned with navigating the terrain as I followed my husband’s lead. Leaving me relaxed and free to notice the architecture, traffic, souvenirs, and food trucks lining our path. I saw the street artists, cautious venders of knockoff purses, bike couriers with their food orders, and the unhoused hoping for assistance.

The city felt different this time. Not better or worse, just available, there for the noticing.

We spent a few relaxed moments in Times Square. Out of the way of the crowds and costumed characters angling for a photo opportunity and a donation.

I looked up at the billboards, Broadway show marquees, news feeds, and advertisements. Color, movement, creativity, pleasure, and ambition stacked on top of itself.

We spoke about shows we’ve seen, memories we’ve shared, and new stage stories that looked interesting.

Without the need to plan or make a decision, I enjoyed taking it in as part of the landscape I was moving through. There was a kind of ease in not needing the moment to become anything else. And a sigh of pleasure when dropping into the perfect table in a quiet, warm restaurant. 



A break from stimulation. A nourishment of the body. An opportunity for more enjoyable conversation. 



Followed by a relaxed stroll to the theatre and quiet time waiting in the short line for entry. Settling inside the theater, my sense of delight and awareness broadened and deepened. Without effort, I was inhabiting a new experience.

Every Brilliant Thing is simple in its structure and expansive in its reach.

A single performer on a small stage telling the story of his life with a mother with depression. A list revealed.

Ordinary things that, somehow, hold the weight of living and perhaps, hopefully, invite some realization of the good of it all. Participation from some of the audience and a fair amount of improv all around.

In the center of the back row, I had a birds eye view of the orchestration that was unfolding.
I watched Daniel enthusiastically greet people as they claimed their seats. Offering them an opportunity for participation in this unique show. Handing over an index card with their lines, sometimes elaborating upon what was asked of them.

In real time, I noticed collaboration with the actor, director, and audience members as this specific performance was being set up … for whatever was to unfold.

Not so different from my experience on the swaying train or the bustling city, I was meeting something alive, relational, and in motion.


I could feel the moment when the room was set.

The people were seated. Index cards had landed. The actor and director gazed out from the stage, gave a synchronized nod, shook hands, and the show continued.

It didn’t feel like the beginning, although officially it was. It felt more like a continuation of the day I had already been inside of.

I was enraptured from the first utterance through the last bow. The story itself was brilliant. True. Deep. Joyful. Sorrowful. Real.

And there was room for the entire audience to meet this real experience easily, without effort. At times with laughter at the wit, improv, and generally funny ways humans move through life. In moments that landed through the entire body, like a soft recognition passing through. A slight tightening. A warmth. A pause. A tear. A deep, resettling breath.

The return to laughter, delight, and spontaneous appreciation of the way an audience member showed up. Put on the spot. With Daniel Radcliffe. Imperfectly perfect in that moment.

At times, I felt the stillness of the crowd as if we had been paused in flight. A shared breath held. The joy of movement returning with a well timed laugh. I sensed a current moving through the group, the shared acknowledgment of the depths and heights of human experience, and a recognition of ourselves in a single story.

The truth of it moving through the room in different ways for different people. Without any need to interpret or analyze, it landed. Touched the room. And took flight once again.

There is something about being in a space where life is being reflected back, not as an idea, but as a lived texture.

Small things. Ice cream. A song. A moment of connection. A heartbreak. An unexpected action. The kinds of things that don’t ask for your attention, and yet hold everything.

Throughout this full day, I wasn’t thinking about being present. I was just not somewhere else. And that feels important to say.

Because this rich experience didn’t come from effort. It didn’t come from reminding myself to stay in the moment. It was more like the absence of leaving.

After the show, the city received me again. The same streets. The same movement. And still, that quiet thread of being inside of it continued.

The train ride home was softer. A short nap offered a small kindness to the body after the motion and the movement of the day.

There is a way of living where the meaningful moments are the obvious ones. The show. The peak. The thing you went for.

And there is another way that has been quietly revealing itself.

Where the walking there matters. Where the cold air matters. Where the looking up at a billboard for a show you may never see matters. Where the way your body sits in a chair, or breathes in a room, or softens into a moment is not separate from the experience, but the experience itself.

The events of the day may look ordinary from the outside, yet from the inside, it felt full. Not full in a way that needs to be held onto. Just full in the sense that nothing was missing from it while it was happening.

I am noticing more and more that this is less about creating a certain kind of life, and more about inhabiting the one that is already here. Not perfectly. And certainly not with effort.

To notice not only the moments that move through the day, but where I am standing as they do.

Living inside the life that is unfolding, however ordinary or brilliant it may appear on the outside.

Recognizing that, like that swaying train, crowded city, and engaged audience, life is already unmistakably alive, responsive, and coherent.

Ripe for the noticing.

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

Posted on by

Distracted? Airport Personnel Weigh In

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 recently breezed through security and settled at my gate in a small Florida airport.

I had ninety minutes before boarding, so I pulled out my laptop, AirPods, and playlist. My belongings comfortably beside me, I settled into my project with Ludovico Einaudi playing at just the right volume. Loud enough to drown out most conversations around me, while still allowing the flight announcements to filter through.

I began noticing the voice patterns of the many announcements being made. Cheerful gate agents, no-nonsense gate agents, and a variety of pleasant voices making neutral announcements about people leaving their stuff behind.

And by stuff, I mean important stuff.

You might be surprised by the things people leave behind at the airport.

a hard shell brown carry-on suitcase
a phone left at security
a phone left on the plane
a stuffed animal (ouch!)
a carry-on left on the plane
a string of red licorice
(just checking your attention here)
yet another phone
Mr. “Smith,” please come to the information desk to pick up the “personal item” you left behind
another personal ID
one small blue sneaker (another ouch)
a backpack left at security
a white and yellow sweater waiting at the information desk

You get the idea, and that was just a short snippet of time while I was only partially paying attention to the frequent airport announcements.

Still, it made me wonder.

What narrows attention so much that really important personal items get left behind?

Travel offers the perfect storm for distraction.

There is rushing, overstimulation, unfamiliar environments, constant announcements, and the subtle background stress of schedules, security lines, and gate changes. The mind narrows its focus to the next task, and everything else drops outside the frame.

Of course, this isn’t limited to airports.

You may have left your credit card at a store, your sweater at the salon, or your sunglasses on a restaurant table. I once left my purse hanging on the back of my chair in the pizzeria at the mall. It goes without saying that my friends laughed among themselves as they tracked my head bobbing through the crowd while I raced back to retrieve it. I can still recall the startled expression on a woman’s face as I appeared, slightly breathless, pointing to my purse.

So no judgment here.

But if you are distracted or overwhelmed enough to leave your purse, your ID, your phone, or your child’s shoe behind (okay, that one probably slipped off a foot in a stroller), it might be time to slow down.

This applies whether you are commuting in the air, by car, on foot, or simply traveling between floors in your own home.

Before you rush off to the next place, or the next task, pause for a moment.
Take a breath.
Look around.
Check in with where you are.
Notice what you’re doing next.

Sometimes the smallest pause is all it takes to gather yourself, your attention, and hopefully all of your belongings before moving on.

Distracted? Of course you are in this day and age.

Yet you are also quite capable of using simple moments of awareness to protect your precious documents, your peace of mind, and perhaps even that favorite yellow and white sweater.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

Posted on by

Care within the Cold Dark Winter

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.

I’m a bit over the cold, dark days of winter. And it’s only the beginning of February.

I wondered how a child who grew up playing and skiing in the snow could become an adult who avoids the cold like a hot potato.

I’m not alone in feeling that this winter has been long and unrelenting. The cold settled in, the snow kept arriving, and the darkness has lingered a bit too long. I’ve noticed that people who usually move, walk, and gather are sharing a quiet resistance toward going outside.

It’s not dramatic. More like a deep reluctance to push against what is already heavy.

It shows up when you don’t want to go out. You don’t want to muster and you want to stay within the comfort of home. Yet, alongside that is a missing of being outside, walking and breathing, and moving through the world more freely.

I’ve been thinking about how comfort soothes dark and cold times, both with weather and with the circumstances of life.

In Norway, there are months when sunlight disappears almost entirely. People don’t fight the inevitable. They prepare, adapt, and even celebrate the dark cold. They cultivate warmth in their homes with candles, roaring fires, and hearty soups. They strap headlamps on and walk to meet friends at a café or pull bundled-up children on sleds to family gatherings.

Some brave souls even gather at the sea, entering frigid water with hardiness and laughter as a communal ritual. While the thought makes me shudder, I appreciate the reminder that aliveness, in any weather, can be celebrated.

In my neck of the woods, people have grown used to mild winters and a few days of melting snow.

Persistent cold invites retreat inward. In some ways, this mirrors the season of Winter itself. A time to slow down, enjoy the quiet, and allow the body to restore. This is where seeds of inspiration are nourished, waiting for warmer days and heightened energy.

When moods, energy, physical activity, and social engagement dip, there is often a quiet, or not so quiet, voice that says something is wrong.

That you should be handling things better, staying upbeat, being more productive, or pushing through some imagined standard.

What if that story isn’t true? What if this long, dark, cold stretch is asking for a different kind of care, one that doesn’t require justification?

Caring well for yourself in winter invites honoring how your internal rhythms are moving and what you genuinely require at this time.

It’s a season when your system may be conserving energy or seeking comfort because conditions are demanding. Responding accurately means noticing this rather than overriding it. Winter invites choosing warmth, beauty, and pleasure without apologizing for them or framing them as indulgence.

Comfy clothes. Time under blankets. Home-cooked meals. Less socializing and more contemplation.

For most, this isn’t the season for optimization. Winter is the season for tending.

 

You might find yourself drawn to slower mornings, softer lighting, heavier blankets, and food that takes time.

You might want fewer conversations but deeper ones. You might want to read instead of scroll, sit by a window instead of pushing yourself out into the cold, or let your evenings close down naturally rather than staying artificially bright and busy.

It’s also important to discern whether you’re enjoying winter and thriving in the cold, or pushing yourself to maintain a rhythm that’s easier with light and warmth. People vary. It helps to know where you land.

Layered beneath this cold, snowy weather is another kind of winter.

Looking out into the world right now, the climate feels harsh in more ways than one. Division, outrage, harm to people and the environment, and unsettling news create a sense that something essential is being strained or torn.

Witnessing the state of the world can feel like a long season with no clear thaw in sight.

That makes personalized care even more important, not less.

Choosing comfort, warmth, and nourishment, if that’s what’s called for, makes good sense.

It’s wise to harmonize your nervous system, calm your mind, and soothe your emotions. This is how you remain capable of kindness, discernment, and presence when the world feels loud and fractured.

Care doesn’t have to be dramatic. It can be quietly pleasing.

A candle lit for no reason. A meal that actually satisfies. An early night without explanation. A conversation that feels human instead of performative.

You don’t need to earn these things by being productive first. You don’t need to frame them as self-improvement. You are simply responding to Winter as Winter, living in a way that matches your preference and bandwidth.

Movement will return, of course. Light is already on its way. Cold and snow will soften, and days outside will become more inviting.

But those days have not arrived yet. Don’t jump ahead or live as if they have. There’s something deeply supportive about being in sync with your inner rhythm in every season. When you’re not, strain builds inside and everything outside feels harder.

This cold, dark, often windy season asks you to stay close to yourself.

To tend the small hearths of your life in ways that feel pleasing and comforting.

And if you worry that you’re withdrawing too much from the world, be at peace.

This is a time to inhabit the way you’re called to live right now. Close, warm, and true to yourself.

There will be a time to turn outward again. Listen for the inner urge, but there’s no need to move before you’re ready.

Enjoy this time if you can. Seasons change. Light returns. And warmth is always generated from within.

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

Posted on by

Name Brands

“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.

I later learned that Hilda moves through the world in her own time. That meeting was not the first she was late to, nor the last. But she lit up that room when she introduced her agency, SisterHood, or “Sisters in the Hood,” as the founders named themselves when they decided to serve the families in their neighborhood who were often overlooked or dismissed by traditional systems.

I was immediately taken by her light-hearted, warm-hearted, big-hearted way.

Having spent so many years with communities society loves to marginalize, I recognized a kindred spirit. I went up to thank her for her humorous and honest presentation, and those unexpected words just came out. I’m forever grateful they did.

Fast forward 27 years.

By now, I’ve learned to listen when something unexpected tumbles out of my mouth. Time and again, I’ve watched the Soul guide me into the right moment, the right person, the right doorway. You know how that works — the quiet nudge that opens a relationship that reshapes your life and deepens your understanding of yourself and the world.

Becoming friends with Hilda did exactly that.

We live very different lives. Our beliefs about the bigger picture diverge. Our thinking was shaped by very different worlds. Our ways of serving look similar on the outside but arise from distinct lineages and lived experience.

We speak an entirely different language.

I grew up with a felt sense of safety she never had access to. We were raised a generation apart, with differences in race, class, neighborhood, education, and economic stability.

These differences have paved the way for deep, often uncomfortable, always meaningful conversations.

My mother used to tell me a story from when we lived in Germany. I was a preschooler playing in a sandbox with a little girl who spoke an entirely different language. We chattered and played as if we understood every word.

Lunch with Hilda feels like that sandbox.

I walk in unsure what the conversation will bring — seeking her counsel, planning a project, or checking in about a neighborhood need — and I always end up on a winding path through delight, discomfort, insight, and truth.

She shows me the world I cannot see. I do the same for her.

Looking back, the hidden gem of that first encounter was discovering I can enter another’s world without defense.

With Hilda, I could bring both my knowledge and my ignorance.

I could let myself be disturbed without collapsing. I could grow beyond the ideas that once kept me small. I learned to listen past the familiar and allow my Soul to point toward the beliefs that needed to be uprooted.

To be fully accepted — and to offer that same acceptance — is a rare grace.

Despite all our differences, we share the same kind of heart. And thankfully, the same sense of humor. That lightness has carried us through years of challenges, tragedies, and triumphs in her community. It is often through her laughter that my eyes open just a little wider.

A few years ago, I called to wish her a happy birthday. Quarantine had kept us from our lunches, but she was still tending to her community and her flock. (Yes, she’s also a pastor.)

“Kathy! Your people collected so much food!”

Turns out it wasn’t my volunteer contact who told her about our Sidewalk Food Drive. It was the neighborhood.

“Pastor! Your friend delivered food. Name brands!”

I didn’t understand at first.

Hilda laughed and shared story after story about the excitement of receiving name-brand groceries — not the cheap knock-offs typically stocked in dollar stores or donated to poor families. Her joy carried an edge of truth that cut straight through me.

The inequity of our neighborhoods, our expectations, our lived experience landed in my body.

When our call was done, the tears came. Gratitude mixed with heartache.

Another glimpse into a world I don’t live in but care about deeply.

For 27 years, our Soul Sanctuary community has supported SisterHood families in countless ways. What started as a small intention — easing the financial burden of economically disadvantaged parents so they could have a little more room to breathe and be with their children — has rippled far beyond anything I imagined.

A bit of relief. A moment of peace. A chance to read, play, or talk together. Small shifts with long-term impact.

I could tell so many stories of how your generosity helped parents and soothed children, but those stories belong to them. What I can say is this:

When you show up for people, they become “your people.” Period.

Next week, my family will deliver a few car loads of toys and gifts to SisterHood volunteers for the Holiday Giving List — 450 children and teens this year.

My basement looks like the North Pole and an Amazon warehouse had a love child.

This Sunday (12/14), we’ll gather at Soul Sanctuary’s Holiday Open House and collect any last-minute gifts you feel called to offer.

Last week, my husband and I took Hilda and another SisterHood founder, Linda, out to celebrate Hilda’s 80th birthday. We laughed, reminisced, and honored the years of shared work, heartbreak, joy, and community.

So as we wrap up this year’s Holiday Gift Drive, please receive the gratitude of Hilda, the SisterHood volunteers, and the families whose lives you touch.

The greatest “brand name” you can offer another human being is to call them sister or brother — to recognize their belonging in your human family.

For every way you show up, in any neighborhood, for any people, in your own authentic way,

Thank you.

The world needs exactly what you bring.

Keep giving.

 

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

Posted on by

Building Cathedrals

How’s your perspective these days? 



Especially in the midst of upheaval in this country, famine and war in the world, and an unbelievable swing toward hatred, greed, and cruel behavior. That is before you consider your everyday stress or the big challenges your and your loved ones may be facing.

When stress rises, perspective shrinks. 

It’s the brain’s natural response to survival signals.

You hyper focus on essentials like food, funds, work, and family (unless you’re ready to toss your family out the window, but that’s another story. Hang in.)

This contraction is understandable. Yet, the invitation is to remember to take a breath, soothe your system, and connect to the wisdom within and beyond you.

The Self Soothe System is free and available to assist you. Get that free resource here on my site here.


When your system is disorganized, harmony is unavailable. 

The Soul’s vision becomes cloudy. So the first move, always, is to harmonize. To come into coherence. Then you can see more, know more, and be more. This matters, not only for you, but for all of us in this interconnected family.

From this Soulful perspective, beautiful questions arise:

What am I learning? 

How may I grow, mature, evolve during this challenge?

What might I offer others without compromising my own wellbeing?

What is asking to be healed within me so I can transcend the smaller story of my life?

That last question – it’s a big one. In the midst of this turmoil, your patterns are likely activating.

Perhaps you may view your vulnerability as your Inner Healer trying to catch your attention. Once you’ve soothed the stress response, you’re more likely to become curious.

More Beautiful Questions arise:


What belief or pattern is creating this tension?

Do I want to carry it or is it ready to be released?

Am I carrying burdens that aren’t even mine? 

Am I still listening to that societal voice that tells me I have to hustle and achieve to be worthy (such a silly idea, but we’ve all been snookered)?

This moment is potent and rich with possibility.

So, do the work with yourself, a friend, a mentor, or a celestial ally.

You may be just fine right now as you read these words with a full belly, safe house, cell phone, and a few dollars in the bank. But, don’t miss this energetically charged moment because there’s something deeper waiting to be freed — something beautiful.

Recently I recalled receiving a strong perspective jolt (mini lightning strike) during the pandemic. (Remember that crisis and how we weathered it together?)

I had come across a youtube video of Andrea Bocelli’s Concert of Hope. In the isolation of quarantine, he stood before the massive Duomo Cathedral in Milan. 



Singing. Alone. To the world.

His voice carried across silence, through distance, across grief and hope. His open heart awakened hearts across the globe. Tears. Prayer. Awe. Beauty. Google it and you’ll see the image. 



Tiny human. Massive Cathedral.

Humans have built cathedrals to the Divine for millennia. Imagine it: a Soul envisions a Sacred monument. Artists, funders, and masons gather. Grandfathers, sons, grandsons labor generation after generation to honor something greater than themselves.

A cathedral was sparked by a simple person who was moved by a Divine impulse.

Infused with imagination and devotion, they gathered others to build something magnificent for others to inherit.

It humbles me every time every time I see a cathedral. A sense of majesty that unfurls when you widen your view.

When you open your heart to the mythic operating within the mundane. When you honor your vulnerability and your magnificence. Both together as one Sacred human journey.

When you let your Soul move you, everything changes.

Andrea Bocelli, a tiny human with a huge voice, offered hope his way. This is what generous beauty does. It wakes you up and returns your focus to what matters. It’s a good time to wake up to what deeply matters and ask the beautiful questions that lead you to offer your song to the world.

By the time you’re reading this, I’ve flown into Milan and traveled to the Temples of Humankind in Damanhur, Italy.

Here, I’m committed to listening to both my Soul and my stress. 



I’m going to walk amongst the builders of another epic cathedral buried deep within a mountain. Over 45 years ago, one idea sparked 70 people in the Damanhur community to create the inexplicable and make the impossible possible. I’ve walked in the Temples of Humankind which are dedicated to awakening the Divinity in all people and honoring every wisdom tradition. It’s extraordinary and inspiring. 



I’m grateful to bring the Q’ero shamans from Peru to Damanhur so they may add their magic, ceremony, vision, and love to the Temples, Crystal Labyrinth Project, and Damanhurian community.

I’ll walk in silence upon and within that place of power so that I may listen and perceive the mythic story that wants to birth through me.

Today, on the anniversary of 9/11, I’m committed to building cathedrals, not walls. I hope you join me in that idea, however you do it.

And a reminder. Breathe and soothe your system when life gets inexplicable and overwhelming.

If you need support, ask for it. Reach out to me, to someone. Don’t go it alone. Not now. The world needs harmonized people in tune with their inner wisdom and open to the Divine Spark that may launch a simple action or a magnificent project.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

Posted on by

I Got My Wings

I got my wings today.

No bell chimed. No angelic harmony resounded. They were just handed to me.

An official metal pin from a national airline declared me “flight crew.” I flashed back to childhood when flying on TWA.

I recalled the thrill as my brother and I met the pilot in the cockpit and received our wings to wear during the flight.

This plastic trinket added a level of delight as we flew the friendly skies toward our next adventure. You can tell that story happened a long, long time ago as no one is getting in the cockpit these days.

As she handed me my wings, she said “You changed my life.”

Another story was pulled from the past as this lovely woman recounted an Angelic Healing Journey she had with me many years before. At that time, she was in a pickle. A serious one. The empowering words and images offered during that Angelic conversation revealed a fence on which she was sitting, and her power to move in one direction (up) or another (down). It offered her hope and a choice.

Apparently, as she reminded me, the Angels suggested the friendly skies were a part of that deal – strange as that was at the time.

It’s not my story to tell here.

I will mention that it involved tremendous courage, hardship, and adventure (not all of it soaring nor fun).

It isn’t every day that you learn the impact of something you offered to someone 10 years prior.

To be clear, I mean offered as the transmitter of the Angels’ messages embedded with their tremendous wisdom, love, compassion, and wit. Holding that pin, we spoke of her decision to follow the invitation to fly through her challenges to discover what was on the other side.

Years of hard work led to doors opening and life changing in ways that continue to amaze her.

Life showed her that there was more in store for her when she dared to get off that damn fence. How making one choice and taking small actions led to the next choice, the next actions, and the next open door.

We spoke about personal responsibility and the commitment to dare to live a life she dreamed about.

I witnessed someone who had given up her story of unworthiness and was deep in the process of claiming her preciousness.

We kept the conversation going.

Exploring how to keep expanding and prepare for the inevitable tough times life was sure to deliver. The adventure of living offers ongoing opportunities for transformation.

As any traveller knows, excitement and trepidation may accompany you on the journey.

Facing the next challenge, you have the option to back away, sit on the fence, or step on the path. All approaches are understandable, yet one choice ultimately allows you to fly more freely toward your destiny.

Did I mention that she became a flight attendant much to her surprise?
Those Angels, they know stuff.

Wings in hand, now part of the “flight crew,” I was reminded to seek the open skies in my life. To have the courage to look deeply within when challenged so I might understand the gift life is presenting. Then make that choice, take that action, and walk through that opening door.

I hope you know that new horizons exist beyond your current vision.

And that you have plenty of Angelic helpers to guide your steps along the unique path you are walking. Trusting that each step awakens greater courage and offers the excitement of the next new discovery awaiting you.

Claim your wings. You don’t need the pin to soar higher. After all, the sky’s the limit.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

Posted on by

Living with Shamans. A Lesson in Love

My husband and I drove separately to the Philadelphia airport in the pouring rain to pick up our guests from Peru.

Not knowing what to expect, I felt an open anticipation. A few conversations had led to this moment. It struck me that these men were traveling far from home to meet a woman they didn’t know, live in an unfamiliar home, and spend an immersive week in service. I considered how much trust they had in Spirit and commitment to the path of the paqo (shaman) to say ‘yes’ to this call to Seed the Light in New Jersey. To show up within the unknown and share their wisdom, love, and healing energy.

I recognized this familiar ‘yes.’ It had led me to this highway and with that awareness, all that was unsettled within me washed away.

In that moment, I knew I’d spend the week being instructed how to live in beauty, trust, and love.

We met these beautiful, tired men with warmth and received the same. Connected, yet strangers, we gathered luggage and headed home. As Pascual played the flute in the backseat, we drove slowly through the torrential downpour. The rain offering cleansing for the Philadelphia area as the healing of the Earth, Pachamama, and all Her creatures began.

Once settled, we called our friends to lunch. They showed up with gifts.

This is the way of living in Ayni (eye-knee), the Peruvian cultural and spiritual practice of living in right relationship with Pachamama and each other. In gratitude for our caretaking, we were wrapped with bracelets and draped in shawls made by their families. Giving and receiving. Receiving and giving. After lunch, Chino did the dishes while others played flutes and rattled, cleaning and blessing the space.

Centered in our intent to care for the paqos, my husband and I consciously opened to make space to receive every blessing and gift offered.

As the days unfolded, we entered a joyful rhythm of relaxed friendship, laughter, give and take, shared meals, and quiet time on the deck. Eager to work, the paqos headed to Soul Sanctuary or our Weekend Gathering with enthusiasm. After long days and nights, they laughed and joked in the backseat on the way home. Their camaraderie and genuine enjoyment of their time together was obvious.

When I showed Francisco my “magic closet” filled with overflowing bookshelves, binders housing my creations, and mini altars, he offered to bless it.

Returning with his bells, he blessed my closet and all the wisdom within. He blessed the altars in my office. I was ready to offer my gratitude, but he quickly moved on. Generously blessing the plants and crystals in the bathroom, cleaning the energy within our clothes closet, and moving on to the bedroom and altars within. I trailed Francisco as he blessed our space and then looked to me with a question, “okay?” Okay indeed, papa, as we shared a hug.

Morning, evening, and throughout the day, I felt the delight of every greeting. I witnessed how the paqos greeted us and each other in genuine friendship and loving attention.

How different this was from the rote greeting often observed in daily living. That ‘how are you?’ without much attention to the answer.

With every meeting, something lit up in the face as the handshake or hug was offered

I felt the underlying message. ‘I see you. I welcome you. I enjoy you. I respect you.’

This wasn’t only offered to people.

It was apparent in how the paqos greeted each day with reverence , enjoyed the busy birds in the backyard, and felt nourished by the greenery of the neighborhoods. Pascual and I walked along my gardens and down the street to the pond. Curious about what was naturally growing and if fish were present, he greeted the plants and the waters with “Munay Sunqo!”

This “love from my heart” greeting was often heard and sent off in all directions to all aspects of nature, including the beautiful participants in the Gathering.

As the days unfolded, in the midst of a busy schedule with many moving parts, I became still inside.

I began receiving lessons directly from the wisdom of Life Itself. The kind of teaching that quietly states, “This is how you live. This is how you love, relate, work, play, and grow.” I felt generosity move through my being in a constant flow with so many different forms of expression. Laughter bubbled up frequently without cause and tenderness claimed my heart as its home.

Witnessing the preciousness of each participant as they received a blessing or initiation threatened to dissolve me.

My eyes soft, my inbreath deep, I felt Life Itself delight in the scene before me. Like a proud Mama watching Her children enter an exchange with such sweetness and open hearts. Pachamama breathed deeply and exhaled long and slow Her acknowledgment that healing was happening and magic was returning to the world.

Something profound was seeded during these interactions, welcomed in the belly with the promise of nourishment, safety, and love.

The Seeding the Light Gathering, every part and each location, offered an alchemical crucible for a shifting of such magnitude that I was surprised the weather remained calm. The subtle movement of thunder and lightning was present in the invisible power of every ceremony, yet poured into each person like a gentle mist.

At some point, I became conscious that the desire to serve inhabited my whole being.

It was easy. No thought required, no idea of how or why, just an abiding love that wished to move in service to Life. No instruction, preparation, or even intent was required in this natural tendency.

Just the awareness that Life serves Life in all of its myriad forms. And that strangers becoming family is the natural order of things.

When the Gathering was complete, we rested, enjoyed some shopping and a taste of Philly cheesesteaks. Arriving at the airport, I moved to retrieve their bags from the hatchback. I was stopped as Francisco and Pascual adorned me with bracelets and a headband. I don’t know why I was still surprised at their grateful exchange for the ride to the airport. Receiving graciously, giving generously. Ayni in constant practice is the way for those in tune with the overflowing abundance of life.

Arriving home, my husband and I compared notes. 8 days of living in love and we were shifted.

There was no end to the gratitude we shared. With a full heart, a tired body, and many seeds of light, I settled onto my back deck. I thought to offer Munay Sunqo and Muchas Gracias to Pachamama, the beneficence of Life, our beautiful teachers, and every participant who called forth this shared experience.

Since no words were needed, Life rested as I promptly took a nap.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

Posted on by

The K’intu. An Andean Blessing.

As I climbed the hills in the Sacred Valley, every step was a prayer of gratitude.  

Pausing often to catch my breath in the high altitude, I drank in the beauty of the mountains, valleys, small towns, and roaming llamas. I felt the hum of power of the Sacred Site moving up from the Earth to bless my body and offer me nurturance and strength. While I saw and heard my fellow journeyers, I was immersed within my own experience of quiet wonder as I prepared for the ceremony above.  

I arrived to find the Paqos (shamans) had prepared the space and had laid the first layers of the Despacho.

This offering (meaning dispatch in Spanish) is a traditional offering of the shamans in the Andes. It is a sweet gift of sugar, spices, nuts, seeds, candies, flowers, and other items representing the cosmic journey we share with all living beings. Laid upon paper, it will be wrapped and used to cleanse the energy of all participants before being offered to the fire. 

As we settled in a circle, the shamans gave a k’intu to each participant.

“Anay” (thank you). I dropped within for a moment to explore what prayers wanted to be blown into this small offering. With intent, breath, and quiet voice, I offered my prayers in the tradition of the Andes. I first called upon the lineages, celestial bodies, and archetypal powers to be present. I then recognized my humanness which included all that I did not know and the mistakes I inadvertently made. I moved on to offer my gratitude for life and all things within this experience. Lastly, I shared my personal prayers for the wellbeing and harmony for myself, my family and friends, all those I serve, and all projects I was called to offer. I offered my prayers for all people, creatures, and Pachamama. 

The k’intu is a fan of three cocoa leaves with a red and white carnation petal.

The k’intu may serve as a Despacho, of which there are many varieties, as an offering of thanksgiving and reverence to Pachamama (Mother Earth), the mountains and sacred spaces, and the celestial beings that watch over Earth. It may also, as in this case, be placed in a larger Despacho which gathers the prayers of many.

The three leaves of the k’intu represent the three worlds and the three Divine attributes of human equilibrium. 

In the Andean cosmovision, there are three worlds or realms known as the upper world (hanaqpacha), middle world (kaypacha), and lower world (ukhupacha). These mythical realms each serve a purpose, have guardians to guide your journeys, and offer support to the human experience. 

In the Peruvian tradition, there are also three energetic centers (belly, heart, head) which empower living in connection and right relationship with all life.

Each center represents and fuels one of the three Divine attributes of human equilibrium. The belly, or llank’ay (yank eye), represents creative expression, work and loving service. The heart, or munay (moon eye), represents pure loving and being in right relationship. The third eye, head, or yachay (yach eye), represents wisdom, clear knowing, and clear sight.

When it was time, I went to the shaman and offered my k’intu, vibrating with the power of my prayers.

Using this trio of cocoa leaves, she blessed my three centers before offering it to the shaman who was creating the Despacho. My prayers, along with all who participated, entered this sweet gift to life. I sat in the fresh air, hot sun, amidst the ancient ones residing in the mountains, and felt my body vibrating with this blessing.

I prayed to live this blessing in the moments of my life. And to be reminded of this ceremony and place of power when I fell into the slumber of my conditioned human self. 

I believe in the practicality of translating this tradition of the Andean ceremony into the everyday journey of living. I see this as a practice which has no end and no score card. Just the simple desire to evolve into a kinder, more peaceful human being who offers something beneficial to the world. The key word here being practice. 

To practice munay, you have to open and clear your heart. To practice yachay, you have to let go of judgments, opinions, and the idea that accumulated information equals knowledge. To practice llank’ay, you have to act and express your creative work imbued with loving service.

Sitting in ceremony offers you the opportunity to receive your k'intu, receive the blessings of your centers, and contribute to the Despacho. 


If you are able to travel to New Jersey at the end of July, you’ll have this direct experience with the Peruvian shamans during the Seeding the Light Gathering. 

This primoridal light, known as Ti in the Peruvian tradition, may be known by other names as well. It is the chi, ki, prana, holy spirit, and pure light of the Divine. That which animates all life and connects all living energy. 

You may think of all ceremony, shamanic healing, and the Munay Ki initiations as a sharing of this light.

The light is information. It is energy. And the Ti informs your energetic system so it may uplevel in vibration as it clears the old, dense energy from your system. All activities in the Seeding the Light Gathering are offering you this energy transmission so your LightBody may upgrade. This empowers your intent to practice wisdom, love, and creative expression in your own life.

You are an expression of this pure Ti and have your own way of sharing your wisdom, love, and creative work with the world. 

While the Peruvian shamans and ceremonies will enhance your capacity to do this, there are many ways in which you may grow your light. Clearing out the dense or stagnant energy from your field is an essential health and growth process. However this is done, it benefits the free flowing of life force (chi, prana, Ti) so that your innate wisdom may expand your capacity to live and serve with wisdom, love, and creative work.

50% of tickets for the Seeding the Light Gathering have been sold. If you are interested, please book your Weekend or 5 day Immersion now.

When you register, you’ll also be given the opportunity to have a private healing session with one of the shamans. This is a chance to experience the traditional healing methods which clearing your field of old energy and receiving an infusion of the high light.

I’ve also experienced the power of ceremony and healings on ZOOM. Seems funny, yet the Sacred healing practices know how to use every technology.

If you are unable to make the Seeding the Light Gathering, yet would like to experience a Despacho ceremony, Munay Ki initiation, or Andean Energy Medicine healing session, I’d be happy to offer this for you. Please visit my Andean Energy Medicine page or reach out to me if you’d like to bring a group to Soul Sanctuary in the future. I have limited availability in mid August and then am booking in mid October. 

Please know that when I blow my prayers into my k’intu during ceremony in the Seeding the Light Gathering, I’ll be including you.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

Posted on by

May Day Memories

It was a beautiful May day at Bryn Mawr College in Pennsylvania back in 1986.

I was looking forward to partaking in the annual May Day celebration at this college so infused with Welsh traditions. As a graduate student, this was my first year living in the undergrad dorms as a “Warden.” An oxymoron, this term Warden, since Bryn Mawr had an honor code and no real rules for me to enforce.

I was more of a House Mama for young women in their time of need.

Truth be told, there were very few “times of need” during my 2 years living at Bryn Mawr. While I supported a few undergrads, I was better known for my annual Dead Plant Sales (no green thumb here) and the Couch Potato Movie Fest during exam time. This was a favorite across campus as I provided good snacks, fun movies, and a much needed break for these really bright, over achieving students.

I appreciated everything about those Warden years, but most especially having my tuition, room and board offered in exchange for living on a beautiful campus.

There were a lot of traditions at Bryn Mawr which was one of the “Seven Sisters” colleges for women. I enjoyed participating in most of them, although never understood why my dorm had to “haze” me along with the freshman. After a week of tortured anxiety and teasing about what was to come, it was mostly silly (they made me wear brown. I dislike the color brown immensely) and I lost some sleep. Otherwise, it was fun and I was rewarded with lots of good food and hugs. (If only hazing was that sweet across all institutions).

I was especially looking forward to dancing around the May Pole on May Day.

Grad students had their own May Pole and I was surrounded by other Wardens and friends from my department. We shared our breakfast and champagne, dressed in white and readied ourselves to frolic amidst the ribbons. I had visions of skipping along as we worked together to create a beautiful weave of colorful ribbons.

They should have provided we innocents with a bit more instruction other than “make sure your move the ribbon up and down.”

I never knew May Pole dancing was considered a blood sport. 


Seriously, I was grateful to make it out alive and with my head intact.

When the whistle blew, all these white frocked women started running FAST. My breath grew jagged as I strongly raised my ribbon up and down. Keeping pace and weaving the damn May Pole was more than I bargained for. There was no mercy as all the onlookers cheered us on and yelled “keep up!”

I should’ve worn better undies as my white flouncy dress blew up to my waist.

I thought we’d be skipping, laughing, and gently floating our ribbons about. I guess I figured a halo of flowers would magically appear on our heads, crowning us as the May Day Goddesses we were. By the time we were done, half of us were bent over, hands on our knees and breathing hard. The others were laughing and offering high fives. You can guess what group I was in.

Despite my near death experience, it was a lovely day of celebration.

I knew May Day was a pagan tradition which occurs between the Spring Equinox (Ostara) and the upcoming Summer Solstice (Litha). Sometimes called Beltane, it is related to fertility as Spring is at its peak. What I didn’t know is that it also is used in countries like the UK and Germany to celebrate worker’s rights.

I wandered about the campus that day, drinking champagne, and watching women race around the May Pole.

The even had a May Hole to honor the lesbian students (before all the initials came into use). It is a lovely thing to participate in ritual, whether deeply familiar or totally new. When you are invited into someone else’s world to experience celebration, you are joined together for those moments. When a friend wished me a happy May Day today, this memory came flooding back.

Bringing a sense of appreciate for a life rich with stepping into ritual celebrations in worlds that are different than my own.

Ritual, celebration, and relationships allow you to remember that you are part of one human family and a part of this beautiful planet. They remind you to open your perception, stoke your curiosity, and engage with the unfamiliar. If only for one day.

I also remind you to check your undies if you’re racing around the May Pole in a cute white dress.

Have a beautiful May Day however you celebrate. If nothing is on your agenda, go check out what Pachamama is offering you. In my neck of the woods, Spring has sprung. The sky is beautiful, the day is warm, and the flowers are colorful.

I can celebrate this.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

Posted on by

Let’s Hold Hands When We’re Old

I was leaving Panera one day, hotfooting it back to work with soup in hand, when I witnessed the sweetest thing.

After holding the door for his wife, a man reached over to take her hand. Very slowly, this ancient couple meandered down the sidewalk. Talking and walking as if they had all the time in the world and no one they’d rather spend it with.

Catching myself gawking, I gathered my delighted smile and sauntered to my car.

Making a note to myself to invite my husband to hold hands when we’re old got me to thinking. Perhaps we should start practicing in earnest now, strolling about with no particular place to go, as if our future wellbeing depended on it. Because it does.

Come to think of it, I wondered why I wasn’t holding hands with more people.

I reflected on when and why I stop reaching for the hands of my parents, daughter, and friends. It’s such a sweet practice that society relegates to romantic relationships, parents with young kids, or support for the elderly. While I won’t reach for my big kid’s hand these days, I could tuck my arm in hers. Enjoying the closeness and attending to our conversation more closely.

Here’s the thing about social interaction and touch. It’s essential if you want to live long and prosper.

Just ask the centenarians who live on the Italian island of Sardinia.

Not only do they report having the highest percentage of people who live to 100 or beyond, but more couples make it to the finish line together in Sardinia than elsewhere in the world.

I hear they are paying people to come live in that mountainous island. Imagine that. Paying you to get daily exercise, eat a big lunch of fresh food, followed by a nap. Family in Sardinia is the priority and they’ve nailed the work – life balance. No long work hours or using achievement as a benchmark of worth for those longevity magnets. A few days a week, they don’t even head back to work after that nap. Leaving more time to chat with their neighbors.

Researchers have studied influences on longevity, such as genetic markers, diet, health practices, social connection, and environment.

You might enjoy watching the series Chasing Life on CNN with Sanjay Gupta, MD. In the episode on Sardinia, I was heartened by those spry brothers who met at the coffee shop and the number of ancient couples still hanging out together. Those folks walked everywhere up and down hills, waving to the neighbors sitting in the windows and popping in to shop for an item or have a chat.

Seems that all this socializing is good for you.

Research has revealed that having a 1 – 3 intimate relationships is good for your health. It’s also beneficial to have in 3 – 5 mini contacts with other humans every single day. These casual encounters might include waving to the post man, talking to the neighbor, petting their dog, visiting colleagues at the water cooler, or screen time with your cousins in California. Scrolling social media or hitting the like button doesn’t count, and actually may hurt when it’s excessive, incites envy, or replaces good old face to face contact.

Cultivating intimate relationships and taking a moment to chat with the check out clerk may increase happiness, longevity, good health, and a sense of meaning.

It’s a good idea to eat well, exercise regularly, take naps when you’re pooped, and balance work and play. It might even be a good idea to learn Italian and go live a pleasurable, slow, and long life in Sardinia. If that’s too big of a leap, start walking around your town or neighborhood.

That lovely couple reminded me that human touch adds a bonus to social engagement.

Like sprinkles on your cupcake, touch may be easily added to your focus on social connection, health behavior, mindset, and life style.

You know that touch is a strong component of healthy development in humans, animals, and marine mammals. Yet, appropriate and gentle touching of one another seems to drop off as you age. Not for those lucky enough to have cuddly partners, kids and grandkids, puppies and kittens. All that hugging and holding keeps those feel good chemicals flowing and encourages social connection in a meaningful way.

If you’re living alone, and perhaps working remotely, you can consciously and creatively examine how you may cultivate more intimate friendships and casual social interactions.

It’s really important to consider what’s most comfortable for you regarding the power of appropriate touch. Not everybody enjoys the touchy feely approach. That’s cool. Your best way of connecting considers what makes sense for you. Remember to regularly give your hands or feet a good massage, cuddle with your pet, and connect with others in a way that feels safe to you and them.

If you want to hold hands when you’re old, now is a good time to start practicing your particular way of leaning in and strengthening your social connections.

I’m off to perform my own experiment with lots of hand holding, arm linking, hugging, and leaning in shoulder to shoulder with friends and family. I’ll toss in some good eye contact, deep listening, and expressed enthusiasm for being together. This approach might seem a bit much with random strangers, so I’ll just add in a few more handshakes and smiles as I seek my 3 – 5 social interactions per day.

And I fully I expect that one day, perhaps when we’re a hundred and two, that some young thing outside Panera will be gawking at me holding hands with my fella.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions.