Last week my 8 year old asked me one of those pick between these two impossible choices questions. It was something along the line of having all the money in the world or whatever super power you wish, and I responded from a place of knowing that I’d like the super power to show everyone their God-given light that lives within them. I realized as soon as the words were coming out of my mouth that is what I do daily.
I write this blog for my creative expression with hopes that you take something away from it. I have to set aside time to simply be in order to create, and I think I’m consistent with it because in my busy life, it’s sometimes the only chance I get in a month to allow the ideas to percolate.
Today, I prioritized weeding my garden knowing I needed to write. My garden is a lot like my life. I allow it to go and go and go until the right weather conditions allow for easy maintenance. Even then, I leave a lot that will need attention in the future, because it’s never going to be perfect and the harvest eventually outcompetes the weeds.
Weeding around the dill this morning brought back memories of my grandma, who always had it hanging in her garage for her famous dill pickles. She took that recipe to her grave; none of her 6 children have been able to recreate it.
But beyond that, the dill was the most delicate. It required deliberation to pull only the weeds that grew right alongside it, camouflaged by twisting stems to the mud. It was such a beautiful metaphor for the way I must work with others when they dive deep into breathwork.
When one commits to truly discovering their light by doing the shadow work required to get there, we become these delicate seedlings that require the gentlest of hands. This means allowing the discomfort, working with a trustworthy mentor to help navigate the process, and practicing patience along the way.
I’m going to Boston next week to help lead a Megabreath, an event with 100 participants and 14 facilitators, 1.5 miles from Walden Pond. If you know anyone in the Boston area, please share this event. I’d love the chance to breathe them and strengthen our connection!
I invite you to join me in the Cave this month to breathe in beauty and discover your light.
I write this blog for my creative expression with hopes that you take something away from it. I have to set aside time to simply be in order to create, and I think I’m consistent with it because in my busy life, it’s sometimes the only chance I get in a month to allow the ideas to percolate.
Today, I prioritized weeding my garden knowing I needed to write. My garden is a lot like my life. I allow it to go and go and go until the right weather conditions allow for easy maintenance. Even then, I leave a lot that will need attention in the future, because it’s never going to be perfect and the harvest eventually outcompetes the weeds.
Weeding around the dill this morning brought back memories of my grandma, who always had it hanging in her garage for her famous dill pickles. She took that recipe to her grave; none of her 6 children have been able to recreate it.
But beyond that, the dill was the most delicate. It required deliberation to pull only the weeds that grew right alongside it, camouflaged by twisting stems to the mud. It was such a beautiful metaphor for the way I must work with others when they dive deep into breathwork.
When one commits to truly discovering their light by doing the shadow work required to get there, we become these delicate seedlings that require the gentlest of hands. This means allowing the discomfort, working with a trustworthy mentor to help navigate the process, and practicing patience along the way.
I’m going to Boston next week to help lead a Megabreath, an event with 100 participants and 14 facilitators, 1.5 miles from Walden Pond. If you know anyone in the Boston area, please share this event. I’d love the chance to breathe them and strengthen our connection!
I invite you to join me in the Cave this month to breathe in beauty and discover your light.
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