Monthly Archives: December 2015

Vlog 2 – Letting Go of Perfectionism

Happy New Year’s Eve, everyone.

I don’t usually post twice in one week, but since I posted my first video blog earlier in the week, I felt like I needed to do another one right away, so that it wouldn’t become an anomaly. Get back on the horse, in other words.  (The horse didn’t really throw me, but it was a scary ride. Thrilling but scary!)

Here’s my next one, still on the subject of FLOW!

Blessings!

 

My First Vlog

Check me out!  I’m getting braver! Today I was “told” by my intuition to make a video of myself about today’s spiritual practice (I’m usually behind the camera).  And to my own surprise, I said yes!

INTUITION is the topic for my writing group’s next six-week series, and it fits beautifully with my “soul word” for 2016, FLOW. (Each year at a beautiful winter Solstice ceremony here in Los Angeles, led by my friend and mentor, Diana Lang, we invite a word or idea to rise up in our awareness, which then becomes a spiritual theme for the year ahead. My word was flow, and I’m amazed at all that has already flowed my way since receiving it.)

FLOW does ask one to be adventurous, though! So here I go!

Blessings!

 

Bless This Mess

Snowman Candle

This photo is my inspiration and offering to you for today, Christmas Eve, 2015. The holiday season has been quite the challenge for me this year, as I hear it has been for so many.  During my meditation and reflection time this morning, I kept hearing the phrase…

“Bless This Mess.”

And so I blessed my messy house, blessed my messy mind, blessed my messy Christmas, blessed this messy world. And as I searched for an image to convey that desire – to love with all I’ve got, right where I am, to be as much of a LIGHT as I can muster….this little snowman candle caught my eye.

So I offer it to you, too! Let’s strike a match and SHINE together. When the mind is lit up, a smile is inevitable!

Love, love, love, love, love! ♥

 

 

 

 

 

Ghosts of Christmas Past

Christmas Nostalgia OneI’ve scratched my head for the last week, trying to find a topic I could write with genuine emotion on the subject of the holidays, and I’ve arrived at the feeling of nostalgia. Yesterday, despite my growing rebellion against commerce-driven, faux cheer, I joined the hustle and bustle of shopping and ended up in several antique stores, where, oh, wow, the nostalgia wafted from every pore!

Christmas Nostalgia SixAs I walked around covertly making photos with my iPhone, I really went down the rabbit hole of Christmas Past. I could practically feel the Silent Night, Holy Night seeping into my hungry heart, and I came home so grateful that I got a taste of that childlike tenderness again. My eyes fill up a little right now as I write about it.

 

Christmas Nostalgia TwoIn one of the shops I had an encounter with this beautiful and battered statue of Mary. Her eyes went right into me. I suppose I had fallen into a kind of hypnosis, what with all the artifacts of times gone by, and soft carols on the sound system, but I found myself completely caught in her gaze.  It was as if she were speaking with me through her eyes and marred face…encouraging me to yestouch with fondness those sweet, early memories, but more importantly, to use the nostalgia as an emotional stepping stone to embrace with my whole heart the precious now, dings, bruises, mileage and all…not to go numb and count the days till 2016, which I have to admit, has been my urge.

So I’m practicing…as I write this piece, and as I move forward through the remainder of the holidays…taking time to breathe all the way down, past and through the voices of resistance, chaos and habitual overwhelm to that holy place inside where magic and wonder are still alive and well.

I wish this for you too, during these last days of 2015…that you have a moment or two of reverence, of awe. Hug someone and feel them hug you back. Listen to sweet music and let it pour over you like rain. Walk outside in the dead of night and look  up at the majesty of the sky. As challenging as it may sometimes seem to experience, LOVE is right here, in THIS moment, in the most basic of things, ever available if we give it our attention.

Blessings.

Woman’s Work

Women Hold the World

A couple of weeks ago, my writing group worked with this ancient proverb as a jumpstarter:

When sleeping women wake, mountains move.

The pieces written that day by my fellow female writers were so beautiful. We felt ourselves as community – our vulnerabilities and strengths, our challenges with identity, value, and process in a patriarchal paradigm, our natural inclinations toward connection and cooperation, but also our secret insecurities, jealousies, anger, and competitiveness…the whole kit and caboodle of being a waking woman. We are indeed women waking! And I do believe mountains are on the move.

One of the things I felt that day and have been letting percolate ever since, is a new respect for the feminine power of understatement in this bombast-oriented world. Mountains can move one inch at a time, and there is something about that notion that needs more appreciation. We are a world of bombs and f-bombs, and those certainly grab our attention, but we are also a world of helping hands behind the scenes, humble hands, so many of which are female. One of our writers reminded us of another famous quote by Mao Zedong:

Women hold up half the sky.

I struggle, as does every woman I know, with making my mark on the world. Our societal norms demand extraordinariness from us to even justify our existence. Being called ordinary is an insult. So our average, daily lives, in which we have to make a living, make food, do laundry, pay bills, attend to family needs, etc., are subconsciously evaluated, at the end of the day, as being less than our potential. But most of those women holding up the sky would not qualify as extraordinary. And yet they are holding up the sky!

So I am writing this piece in praise of old-fashioned woman’s work. Not to diminish in any way our modern woman’s rights and liberties, for which I am deeply grateful, I also bow to the moms, the volunteers, the helpers. They are moving mountains an inch at a time, (which, if you think about it, is much less disruptive than the earthquake variety of movement), even though it won’t make the news or the best-seller list.

Women are waking, mountains are moving, and the sky is being held, in a quiet, understated, even ordinary way. That is worth noting and celebrating.