Tag: Story

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Love. Appreciation. Wonder.

Love

This is the energy back behind all form. You. Your family and friends. Loved ones who sing with the Angels. Santa. And every gift, holiday light, and tension you experience. It’s your nature. 

Let your Love glow.   

Love freely even when with people or in situations that make you crazy. We’re all crazy. Love the crazy. Whatever you’re doing, sprinkle it with love. If it’s your nature, it’s a natural impulse. Seek it and share it. 

Appreciation

My heart broke open this morning. Appreciating the fullness of life I was experiencing. The sweetness and the profound sorrow. The connections and the desire to reconnect. The hustle bustle and the stillness. It’s all in there. Life amazes me and I dissolve in appreciation, as long as I’m moving slowly enough to notice.

Pay attention. Appreciation wants to express through you.

It’s your nature. Be generous with yourself throughout the holiday. Appreciate where you’re at and show up as the real you. Doesn’t matter if your cookies taste good, you’re hungover, or just too damn cheery for most people in the room.

You be you.

Let your appreciation for others spill out into every interaction.

 

They really need this simple act of being noticed and thanked.
 

It’s a basic human need. Something we can all relate to. Plus, it just feels good. Kinda like drinking warm cocoa.I bet it isn’t too hard to find tiny and big ways you appreciate another person. Or a situation. Or even a really big problem.  



Appreciation invites freedom to the holiday table. 



And freedom is a much better dinner guest than tension or judgement.   



Wonder.



As a question. I wonder what marvelous thing or event will appear at our holiday celebration? 

As a feeling. It’s often a whole body experience with a sense that life has delivered something to your door that was way beyond your expectation. It could be momentary or sustained wonder. Either way, it feels great. Every cell agrees.



The magic of Santa. The new baby at the holiday table. The unexpected opening of hearts. 



Wonder at the stories in all sacred traditions. Of a light that guided the way to joy, peace, and sweet happiness with one another. On this Winter Solstice, I invite you to remember the Light within all beings and all of the natural world.



Seek and ye shall find.   



What you seek matters. For all of us.



I’m wishing you joy, peace, and love as you celebrate the sacred moments within this Season of Light. 



Thanks for being a part of this lovely community whether it’s receiving this Blog or showing up at Soul Sanctuary. I’m glad you’re around. You make my life richer with your Presence.



Happy holidays.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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I’m a Secret Librarian

True confession. I’m a book nerd. 

Reading is one of the great pleasures of my life. As long as I remember, I’ve devoured books. My home is filled with artistic book piles in most rooms. Set there to lure me onto the couch in order to gain a little knowledge or get lost in an imaginative adventure. 

I’ll trade sleep for a good book and often am running late to an event because “I’m at a good part.”

I never hop on a plane without two books. One to study and one to invite me into a new world. I overpack books on vacations so that I can choose the read of the day from my traveling library. For practicality’s sake, I tried, against my better judgment, to train myself to use a Nook but I missed the paper and ink too much. 

It’s no wonder I view book stores as my playground.   

Some of my best writing and creative projects have occurred in the cafe at my local Barnes and Noble. It’s as if I enter a zone or portal of creativity whenever I settle in to write there. I can work for hours, almost unaware of others around me, only to surface for an enjoyable break perusing the shelves. It doesn’t matter what department I enter, I find the perfect books and read a few pages. It’s a habit, I guess. Gathering a pile of books to “look at” and heading down a rabbit hole while sitting on the floor, engrossed by someone’s research or creative expression of genius.

I think this is where my career as a secret librarian began. In Barnes and Noble.

While my eyes scan the book shelf, I inadvertently notice authors out of alphabetical order or a disorganized display (gasp). Perhaps the books are left haphazardly laying upon the rows, even from other sections, as if someone dropped them there without regard. This desire to neaten and place books where they belong also arises in the public library, but doesn’t seem to cross over to other areas of my life.

I think it’s a love affair with the written word that has me working incognito. 

If I followed my bliss and spent more time at Barnes and Noble, their shelves would probably be in really great shape. It seems like a perfect volunteer position when I decide to retire. The only downside is that I’d probably discover something else to study and head back to work.

I decided to officially become a librarian when I found the perfect little free library in a nearby town.

 

I’ve seen those cute little bird house libraries and even toyed with putting one in front of my home.

That didn’t make much sense as I live on a quiet street where everyone can easily access books of their choosing. Or pop in their lovely vehicles to head to the public library or favorite bookstore. Anyway, I’m not so good with building birdhouses, even if they’re going to be filled with books.

Imagine my surprise when I noticed a little library appear at the playing fields where I sometimes walked.

People head there to walk their pets or themselves. Kids, teens, and adults use the field for personal training. Mostly it’s empty when we venture there for a nature stroll, but sometimes it is filled with the enthusiastic hustle and bustle of kids or teens practicing their favorite sport.

A summer evening may fill the place with kids practicing football, lacrosse, soccer, or cheerleading.

Game days bring the parents, siblings, and grandparents who overflow beyond the small bleachers to lawn chairs. It’s fun to watch and brings back memories of the thrill of little league games and working in the snack bar.

So, I’m already primed for enjoyment walking by that tiny free library. It draws me in.

I saw a bunch of old adult books. The kind you clean out after 20 years of sitting in your study. They sat there for weeks. Nothing coming in and nothing coming out. Plus they weren’t displayed well. Just sayin’. With all these hundreds of kids and teens running around, some old Tom Clancy books weren’t fitting the bill. So, I tried an experiment. I found some young adult fiction I had read in pristine shape.

A week later, the books were missing. Tom Clancy remained.

When I read fiction, which is the only book I’ll pass on, you’d never know it was read. I take off the cover and use a book mark. It’s a book nerd thing. I started to experiment. Dropping off a trilogy with really fat books looking brand new. They disappeared. I rustled through the books my kid never read. Hardbacks. Fiction. Biographies of brave girls. All gone.

I only drop books when no one is around. Hence the secret part of my librarian title.

And I send each book with a wealth of wishes. I talk to the book(s) as I head over to the tiny house. “I hope you find the perfect home and inspire someone to know how creative they are. I hope you help someone discover a love of reading .. create new authors .. encourage innovation .. alleviate loneliness .. open minds. I hope you travel well and enjoy your adventure.”

Of course I cleaned up that dusty box so whomever it serves has a lovely library that respects the books and their readers.  

Not everyone supports the idea of free little libraries. 

Some dissenters feel they take away from services offered by the free public library system. Or are a harbinger of attempts to gentrify urban neighborhoods. Two librarians from Canada described these cute little birdhouse free libraries as “a highly visible form of self-gratification cleverly disguised as book aid.”  Most supported the idea of these as a resource or an enjoyable hobby or just another way to share a love of creative projects, good reads, and generosity.

I guess since I just outed my secret about tending to a little free library in a diverse neighborhood, I’m now engaged in a highly visible project of self-gratification. 

Yup. I’m unapologetic. I love books. I love little cute libraries. I love being a secret librarian. And I love my public library. 

I’ll skip the cute tiny libraries in affluent neighborhoods and stick to the two I’ve found that serve a more diverse economic population. I’ve got no regrets, even as I acknowledge my flagrant self-gratification as a book nerd do gooder. Imagining children, teens, or adults grabbing a good book warms my little librarian heart.

In the end, I don’t really care who takes my books, if they are returned, or where they travel. 

I just trust they will land in the perfect hands to be read at the perfect time. As long as they disappear and I’ve got (good) books to share, I’m hired. I’ll let you decide where you land in this (mild) controversy about cute mini houses with free books. Read all about it here.     

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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At Home in the Midst

This warm winter morning beckoned me for a walk, surrounded by woods, fields, and nature’s creatures.

I noticed a thick mist ahead and felt the pull of my desire to be within the white. Lost in thought, headed into the milkiness, I approached my destination only to discover that my sight was clear. The experience I expected did not manifest.

In momentary confusion, I looked back to see that the road upon which I travelled was now obscured. 



The mist touched every place but the circle in which I stood. I paused for a moment to breathe in the moist, still air. I engaged the present moment and the clarity it offered. Blind to what was behind or in front of me, I realized the benefit of clear sight when I was present, aware, and engaged with my body and my environment.

When I consciously joined the moment I was standing in, clarity arrived.

I’ve heard that sage advice many times: “be here now.” Yet, how often have I traipsed through my days trailing behind my mind which was peering into a murky future? Or getting lost in the mental mist of memory reconsolidated?

I took the opportunity to look into the forest, alive with a melodic stream, busy birds, and scampering squirrels.

Apparently, while I was cocooning indoors, the natural world had been actively preparing for Her perfectly timed reemergence. I don’t know why I was surprised that tiny seedlings had grown into small pine trees. Or by the evidence of greenery, flowing water, and new life everywhere. Perhaps the snow and persistent gray February skies in New Jersey had dulled my senses and distorted my memory.

Nature has always demonstrated how capable She partners with the evolutionary impulse.

Years of sitting, playing, and meandering in Nature have revealed so many wisdom lessons. I never had to look far to witness the emergence of Her latest work of art. Throughout cycles of seeding, nourishing, emerging, blossoming, and deteriorating, the natural world’s creative unfoldment has always been trustworthy. Laying down a Map of Wisdom for those with eyes to see and senses to clearly perceive the harmonious movement of Life.

Yet, Nature doesn’t need an audience to do Her thing.

She seeds, grows, dies, and rests to a rhythm so persistently harmonious. Nature’s emergence isn’t dependent upon social media “likes” nor does it require those seeking fresh air to stop and smell the roses. That’s why Nature’s wisdom is easy to miss. Especially when closed away in our homes, busy schedules, and distracted lifestyles.

As I walked, I pondered Life’s innate potential for perennial growth and the creation of beautiful spaces.

My sight was clear, as was my mind. Walking with my body, rather than racing ahead or lagging behind, a revelation emerged. It seemed new, like a seedling breaking through the soil, rather than an old intellectual understanding.

I, too, was a natural phenomenon.

 

Imbued with an innate ability to grow effortlessly and create beautifully in every cycle and season. 

Alert and aware, I recognized that I could walk blindly through the obscurification of a distracted life. Or choose to pause within any moment and breathe myself back into my body and the space it inhabited. I felt a subtle shift with that awareness.

As if my quantum substructure rearranged into new flowing patterns of harmonious light.

Honoring my innate trustworthy nature would allow me step out of my murky mind mist and show up within the midst of this Holy Moment. With Nature’s gentle reminder, I became more aware of myself as a trustworthy participant within this evolutionary process.

Relaxed and aware, I walked slowly within these natural, magical surroundings.

Gazing at the milky whiteness before me, I stayed present to the crisp clarity all around me. With ears to hear, I enjoyed the rustle of the wind and the crunch of tiny feet upon the leaves. I imagined tiny shoots of green just below the surface, biding their time and gathering their energy, before sneaking up toward the light. And I remembered what I have known all along.

I was at home in the midst. 


Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Lessons from a Blimp.

Many years ago, I was invited to take a ride in the Blockbuster blimp for my birthday. 

Yup.  That many years ago.  When renting video tapes was a thing. Arriving at a small airport in Northeast Philadelphia, I was startled by the size of the huge bullet-shaped “balloon.” Six strong men struggled to hold the blimp steady via long ropes. My friend yelled out, “This is going to be a hell of a ride!”

I saw an inconceivably small oval cockpit hanging beneath this floating behemoth.

I decided the butterflies in my stomach were from excitement as we squeezed into our seats.  Since it was my birthday, I had the front seat next to the pilot.  Lucky me. In a flash, those strong men were waving as our little engine chugged us forward.  It was surreal.

I thought of the Chitty Chitty Bang Bang movie while watching neighborhoods glide beneath us.

My husband’s seatbelt wasn’t secure and our gracious host in the miniature back seat wasn’t much help.  “No worries” said the pilot as he reached back to adjust the belt.  No worries?  The nose of the blimp moved rapidly toward the ground, giving me a full appreciation for the term, “nosedive.” 

Those butterflies weren’t only in my stomach anymore.

The pilot turned back and casually righted the blimp.  “See, nothing to worry about.”  Funny guy.  I breathed a deep sigh of relief. Immediately that familiar sensation of nausea came over me.  It never crossed my mind that a lifetime of motion sickness within all moving vehicles might extend to a blimp ride. I immediately got into management mode as I relaxed my body, set my gaze forward, and began breathing deeply.  Placing myself in an aware trance state, I focused the delight of flying.

“Kathy! Take a look. Your husband is turning green.”

Apparently we shared an affinity for blimp sickness.  Well, that man was on his own.  The pilot suggested they open a window. In a blimp? Good grief.  The backseat duo couldn’t get the damned window open, so the pilot reached back and battled with the sticky window. 

Another nosedive while moving through rough wind currents.

Happy birthday to me. I quietly scanned for an airsick bag.  Nothing.  As fresh air blew through our tiny capsule, I made a quick decision. I was gonna totally enjoy this novel experience. I decided my butterflies found it thrilling. After all, how often do you float over neighborhoods, rivers, and highways? I even snapped a photo of Philadelphia before we were turned away from the restricted city air space.

I gratefully realized I was halfway through my birthday adventure without losing my cookies.

My celebration was interrupted when the pilot asked if we were interested in heading to Willow Grove to see if we could fly in the air show.  Since I didn’t think I’d be flying fighter jets in the future, might as well try to show up in a blimp.  When else would I get a chance to be in an air show? 

Choosing to focus on the wonder of this otherworldly journey helped manage my discomfort.

I was hanging on by a thread when we got the message to “stay put” in case we could fit in the lineup. We’d been in the friendly skies nearing two hours and still had to make it back.  By the way, the back seat was doing just fine with their breezy window.  Enjoying some history and a tour of the grand estates in a ritzy area of town.

I’d love to tell you that we were the star of the show, but the Blockbuster Airship didn’t make the cut. 

All that extra travel for nothing!  Or was it? Reflecting on this gift of flight, I’m grateful I hadn’t recalled my motion sickness before we arrived. Or knew what a long, uncomfortable experience I’d have. I’m certainly glad I didn’t know anything about hanging in a mini cocoon under a gas filled balloon. Nor about nosedives and open windows.

All that knowledge would have definitely led me to worry and hesitation.

Which would have been an absolute waste of time and disrupted my birthday excitement. I learned motion sickness exists in the air and on the ground. And so does delight. As above, so below.  It all depends what you chose to focus upon.  Truth be told, I’d do it again in a heartbeat.

In hindsight, the blimp was a walk in the park compared to the time I jumped out of an airplane. 

But, that’s another story entirely.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Talking to Angels

Have you been talking to Angels?

Yeah, me too.  How’s that going? 

(That’s a real question.)

I really wonder what it’s like for you when you chat with the Angels.  I’d love to know the details. The Who, What About, When, How, How often and What happens type of details.  I’d love to know how they respond and how you know it’s them.    

I want to know what doesn’t happen.  Where it doesn’t work, when you doubt (them, you), when you forget them, when they remind you. When they disappoint you.  Or you them.

(Spoiler alert. That last option just isn’t a possibility.  Ever.)  

I want to know all of it.  So, email me.  I’ll read it. I’ll send you a guided meditation as a thank you.  Which one.  Don’t know.  I’m sure “they” will tell me.  

You know how you get so used to your way of doing things, you forget there are other ways?  That’s me.  Hence, my (real) question.

It’s a big world out there.  Lots of humans.  The cosmos is even bigger.  Lots of celestial conversationalists available for a (snap) chat. I wonder if you’re the chatty kind – talking all day to humans and light beings.  Or if you spend most of your time with one group over another.  Maybe you only talk (to humans or angels) when you really need something.  I wonder what it’s like for you.

I don’t read books about how to connect with Angels anymore. 

Not for years.  I read a bunch in the beginning.  They opened a new world to me and I’m deeply grateful for them. I liked having information about the Angels: names, roles, descriptions and ways to translate Angelic guidance.  This initial structure gave me the foundational knowledge and ideas about how I figure it all worked.  

I didn’t realize how these books also kept me bound within limited ideas about the Angelic Presence.  

I do remember the exact moment that door opened.  

I was offering an Angel reading as part of my practicum to become an Angel Healing Practitioner  You can just picture me.  My face and insides all screwed up in concentration as I “tried” to translate something that sounded like Angelic guidance.  Lots of tension. Lots of effort.

Until something akin to a tap on my right shoulder was followed by a question.  

“Do you mind if We take it from here?”

“Have at it!”  My relief was palpable. My knowing clear. My trust complete. 

From that day on, talking to Angels has become as natural as breathing. So has listening to Angels, streaming Angelic Conversations for others, consulting with them on all my life decisions, and helping you find your own way into this ongoing conversation. 

I know you have the skill to do the same.  I have zero doubt on that belief.  

Why so sure? I’ve sat with thousands of people throughout the years.  Heard so many Angel connection stories. Witnessed so many beautiful partnerships, heartfelt wisdom translations, and bodyfelt receptivity to the Angelic Presence.  Too many to count.  So, I know you absolutely have the skill to enter the conversation more fully.  

I just wonder where you’re bound. 

By your limited beliefs. By your doubt in yourself. By your experience (evidence) of not being responded to.  By your disappointments. By your perception that others can do this, but not you.  

I lived all of that.  Fully embodied disempowerment all the while I was having marginal success “talking with Angels.”

Those days are gone. These days I’m clear: the only time I’m not engaged with these lovely messengers is when I’ve left the conversation.  When I’ve narrowed my perception, my thinking, my awareness.  When I’ve gotten lost in one of my countless human stories that lead me to believe I’m separate from this ongoing flowing dialogue. 

These days I know the Angels are always Live Streaming.  

And, unbeknownst to most, you are always engaged in some level at that conversation.   

I wonder what your myths are about how this flowing, streaming beautiful conversation is “suppose to” happen.  

Myths.  Plural.  They are like locked doors – keeping you outside looking in at those who can talk to Angels, easily translate celestial wisdom, access deep Truth. These myths are keeping you separate from someone like me.  Just like my myths kept me in the “I’m not intuitive like you” camp for way too long.

This myth is not true. Just a distorted story which disempowers.  

 

There are lots of myths about how the Angelic conversation is supposed to happen.  If you’ve witnessed me live streaming – which is most typical when I teach, guide a meditation, offer an Angel Healing session, or an Angel Card Reading – you’ve witnessed one way of flow.   

I’d love to also talk about how damn awkward these conversations with Angels can be. 

To help you understand their nonlinear nature. How conversations unfold over time, across various messengers, and skip around topics. How the information is often cryptic, symbolic, and multisensory. How they show up at the most inopportune times.

How they pick up the conversation with abrupt questions, laughter when things aren’t funny, and challenges to act when it makes no sense.

About how to open to their rants about how much you are loved, cherished, and enjoyed. To let yourself feel the feels and experience the otherworldly even when it is physically disorienting or confusing.

I’d love to help you open to this Angelic live stream. 

I’m really invested in the other Angelic Invitation I received those many years ago.  “Teach them what they are already capable of.”  That’s what I’ve been doing for years now.  

Empowering you to discover how you (already) work.

Every workshop, retreat, and service I offer will help you discover more of your innate capacity to communicate with the Angels.  With every higher level of Wisdom regardless of what it is called.  This is what you are capable of. 

I invite you to WholeHeartedly, consciously, and freely enter the conversation. 

If you’re wanting personal instruction, hit me up for an Angelic Healing Journey.  It’s all about you as the Angels and other Wise Guides show up to answer your questions, invite themselves to hang out with you on a daily basis, and give you some hints for elevating your life.

Above all, remember this: You really don’t need me, or anyone, to show you the way.

You already know how to talk and listen.  You’ve already had beautiful and awkward conversations with all kinds of beings. Relax and have at it. If you want a guide, pick up a book, grab an Angel Card Deck, or find a teacher/mentor. 

All lead to the same place: your own Awesomeness.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Lost in the Woods

 

I’ve recently awakened the desire to go hiking and spend more time exploring the trails in New Jersey and other locations. 

So, my husband downloaded a new app with a wide selection of hiking trails in our area and chose our first 5 mile hike. It was rated “moderate” hiking difficulty which was good for me. I enjoy our walks in nature tremendously, but I was hankering for a little elevation and variation. Since a weekend hike in Rocky Mountain National Park was out, we popped in the car to celebrate Labor Day with an enjoyable walk in the woods. 

I love to explore new places by wandering around without a plan, discovering what is around me. My husband, on the other hand, is a map kind of guy. Or in this case, an app kind of guy.

We arrived at a tiny gravel lot, grabbed our bottles of water, and headed down the deserted path. How could we go wrong? There were white painted trail markers on the trees and we enjoyed being in the shaded woods as a respite from a sunny day with temperatures in the 90s.

It was a delight to be immersed within hundreds of trees with a hint of the stream’s gurgle beyond the ferns. The blue sky and white clouds peeked through the trees as if to check on our progress, yet the rays of the sun were only lightly visible. 

We strolled along as if we were the only people in the world on this path.

Apparently we were, as we didn’t see nor hear anyone for over an hour. There was a peace that descended when we were immersed within the natural sights and sounds of the forest. Even my husband relaxed his noticing of the changing color trail markers and we enjoyed quiet conversation interspersed with long periods of silence. The sight of massive roots of a fallen tree, minnows swimming by the edge of the stream, or a surprising tree of burning orange leaves was good for the soul.

Faced with a fork in the road, we simply went left as the absence of trail markers left us to our own devices.

We spied two deer leaping across the path ahead and disappearing into the dense brush.  It was a delight and we decided it was clearly a sign we were headed in the right direction. This was our first indication that perhaps we weren’t reading the signs correctly – trail signs or nature signs – as we ended up stuck in a field of prickly grasses with nowhere to go. So, we turned around. At the next fork, we got serious about looking for trail signs.

How hard could it be? After all, we were walking on a 5 mile loop. A loop is a circle, or so I thought.

Back on the path, we continued our leisurely hike as my husband called out, “Here comes your elevation! All 124 feet!” Peering around him, I saw a tiny hump in the path. Okay, so we weren’t in the Rocky Mountains. We stopped on a bridge and looked for fish while the trees protected us from the driving sun above. Relaxed and at peace, I was content in our meandering. And then we hit another split in the trail and absence of trail markers. This was beginning to become a theme. 

I didn’t object when he pulled out his app with the GPS. Good news: we were halfway through the loop. I felt a deep love for that stinkin’ app.

I was aware that while I wasn’t tired, I was pretty darn hot. The benches that appeared did not seem appealing for a rest stop. They looked like they had been carved in the 1800s and were covered with elaborate webs. Truth be told, I noticed I was a wee bit wilted on my first hike through this hilly terrain (yes, there were very tiny hills now). And then I saw it: a thin tree had fallen across the path. Unlike the others we had climbed over which had moderate to large trunks, this was a slender tree. The remarkable thing was that it was still growing. Its trunk was bent and the leaves were fluttering in the wind.

I felt an affinity for that little tree who just laid down and took a nap, right in the middle of the path.

 

Soon after this wonderful sight and a few more tiny inclines and declines, we came to another fork in the road. It was confusing, so we got out my favorite app. Turns out it was no help at all and the GPS, which had given us such hope, was suddenly suspect. We were back at a previous choice point and had to either go in an unknown direction which logically took us away from our car or backtrack via a path which meant we had miles to go before we could rest.

As we headed back from whence we came, I was no longer a fan of meandering nor of that silly app. I was also aware that the trail markers, which were absent at the choice point, were now abundantly clear – as if some ranger had gotten paint happy.

“We aren’t out of the woods yet!”  Who knew my husband had such a sense of humor?

Hot as all get out, I took stock and began rationing my water.  Very soon, I realized that getting lost in the woods was detrimental to the annoyed or anxious mind. The surrounding landscape was as calming when we were lost as it had been when we were all gung ho and full of vigor. As we walked, my husband and I began to notice places we had seen before and it became a game of sorts. We even ran across another couple which gave us hope that we would rediscover civilization. Back into our confident meandering, we didn’t feel the need to ask how to get out of the woods. We figured we were on the correct path.

How many detours could there be on a loop anyway? [Two more, but who’s counting?]

Spoiler alert: we made it out of the woods and returned to civilization. None the worse for the wear, we were so busy pulling the sticky leaves from our shoes and clothing that we almost missed the sudden appearance of that other couple. They were calmly strolling up the paved road beyond the gate. Apparently, that “unknown direction” not only led back to the parking lot, but did so in an easy and timely fashion. 

When my husband mentioned that the app had an upgraded version for $2.99/month with more trail details and an improved GPS function, I handed him 3 bucks and told him he was in charge of next week’s location.

And then I took a mini nap on the way home – just like my favorite tree.

Peace be with you and with all.  No exceptions. 

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Light Bathing in my PJs

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.  

I felt lit from within as I basked in the warmth of the sun. I was light in every sense of the word.

 

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.