I had two big events planned through my business Inner Path last week, the beginning of The Artist’s Way Series and a SoulCollage® Workshop. I had spent the last couple of months planning for them and eagerly waiting for the day. Then the snow came, and it came, and it came, and it came. Both were cancelled. For a short period I felt myself falling into a pattern of worry and fear. “How will this impact the series? Will anyone show up for the make-up day?” I questioned. Then I took the time to tap into my higher source and remember that everything that happens is an opportunity for lessons, for growth, and for reflection. Blizzards shut everything down, especially this one. Most of us
My favorite place to be in the whole world is on this big rock surrounded by trees and rhododendrons right on the edge of a river not far from a bed and breakfast where I stay in Douglas, WV. I go there every chance I can to pray, to meditate, to listen to the river flowing, to watch the butterflies floating, to empty myself out and then fill myself back up again. It is my safe place, the place I visualize in my mind when I am seeking calm. This spot is sacred to me, my rock altar, my sanctuary. Whenever possible, I take friends to this secluded spot to share it with them. I don’t know if it has the same powerful effect on other people as it does on me, but I take them anyway because it
Ten years ago my friend Andria and I created an informal women’s group called the W’s where a group of us met once a week for dinner at various local restaurants. I hadn’t yet realized that I’m more introverted than extroverted. All I knew was I was worn out by small talk and party chatter and was craving real conversation. So each week I prepared a discussion starter or an activity that would enable the W’s to have a more meaningful conversation than your ordinary dinner chitchat. One week I asked the group to choose a part of their body they were particularly critical of and write that body part a letter of apology and reconciliation. There was some resistance at first. Most were not
A year ago as the New Year began, I meditated on the intention I wanted to set for the year ahead. The word that rose to the surface was this: unleash. I had no idea why that word was coming to me or exactly what role it would play in the year, but I knew it would be significant. A month later when I attended a weekend silent retreat, I carried that word with me and bathed myself in it during the entire 36 hours of silence. Something was building in me. I knew it was time to let go, to unleash in some way. Three months later I turned in my resignation to the school system, a job I had for 20 years. This was not a quick decision. It was something that had been simmering in me for many
