reflections on love

“Love recognizes no barriers. It jumps hurdles, leaps fences, penetrates walls to arrive at its destination full of hope.”

 – Maya Angelou

A few weeks ago, I was looking for quotes, poems, or verses to read at my son’s wedding, when I found the above quote by the late Maya Angelou. What a lovely quote and how timeless! As we observe our world, it is easy to see how money and power seem to be in the driver’s seat. And love? Where is love? Relegated to the back seat or the trunk? We need only look into our hearts to know where it may be in our lives. We say we love…some people, some things, some places. Do we honestly look at others with the eyes of our hearts?

At a time in our history, when there is so much before us that doesn’t feel or look like love, I found these words a refreshing reminder of what is possible…when we open our hearts while laying down our biases.

I have enjoyed riding the “high” that has been the effect of the beautiful gathering of family and friends, from far and near – despite losses, heartaches and other challenges – to celebrate the wedding of my son and my daughter-in-law. The love in the space was palpable. Yes, I know you can say or think, “Of course she felt that way. It is her son, after all.” You would be correct and it was the energy in the space, the looks on the faces, the smiles and embraces of people across multiple generations, past family difficulties, and many, many miles.

Although I did not read the above quote or the poem which follows at the wedding*, I appreciate today the way these words have so beautifully and eloquently captured the moments of that magical weekend.

~ * ~ * ~

Touched by An Angel

by Maya Angelou

We, unaccustomed to courage
exiles from delight
lived coiled in shells of loneliness
until loves leaves its high holy temple
and comes into our sight
to liberate us in into life.
Love arrives
and in its train come ecstasies
old memories of pleasure
ancient histories of pain.
Yet, if we are bold,
love strikes away the chains of fear
from our souls.
We are weaned from our timidity
In the flush of love’s light
we dare be brave
And suddenly we see
that love costs all we are
and will ever be.
Yet it is only love
which sets us free.
 ~ * ~ * ~


Love may be something we think we do. In fact it is who we are…and we often forget when we get angry or judge another harshly. In those dark, fear-based moments, we have forgotten. Perhaps we find ourselves too busy to love. “Oh, when I finish this project, I’ll spend more time with my family,” is just one of any number of reasons why we may keep ourselves from our very essence and the beautiful exchange that occurs when we are present to anyone.

I am reminded of one final quote, which I hold dear and read often – to remind me what I am here to be.

Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.

 – Rumi

May we slow down to reflect on our barriers to love; that our hearts may open just a little more to acceptance of ourselves, those whom we regard as different and those closest to us who most cherish our presence.


*The bride and groom chose an excerpt from a wedding ceremony I shared with them, from the book, Illuminata: A Return to Prayer, by Marianne Williamson.


our truth

“Satisfying untruth is more pleasing to us than unsatisfying truth, and Big Truth is invariably unsatisfying—at least to the small self.”

 – Fr Richard Rohr


I could spend time writing about the ongoing discourse in the country I live in regarding a number of topics. However, I choose to skip the mundane in favor of the higher.

I leave the meaning of the above quote to your discernment.

We are living in extraordinary times, as a friend of mine has said for some time. Our truth is ours. How we feel, speak or act upon it matters.





on being…ourselves

The individual has always had to struggle to keep from being overwhelmed by the tribe. If you try it, you will be lonely often, and sometimes frightened. But no price is too high to pay for the privilege of owning yourself.

 – Friedrich Nietzsche


Who are we?

Who are you?

What do you believe?

How do you live (or act on) your beliefs?

Are you living your beliefs or someone else’s?


Owning our story can be hard but not nearly as difficult as spending our lives running from it. Embracing our vulnerabilities is risky but not nearly as dangerous as giving up on love and belonging and joy—the experiences that make us the most vulnerable. Only when we are brave enough to explore the darkness will we discover the infinite power of our light.

– Brene Brown


It seems that nearly every day, we are provided even more opportunities to meet ourselves, to better know ourselves and to make choices that either support our growth while facilitating our evolution (and that of the planet) or we look away, afraid. We fear that allowing ourselves to feel what we feel, or to see through the eyes of our hearts what we are seeing unfold before us, that somehow we are weak or are not living up to what others expect of us.

Whose life are you living anyway?


Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma – which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition.

 – Steve Jobs


I honor the courage of the many who have spoken up about their abuse – men and women – and in so doing have paved the way forward for others to find within themselves the courage to step up, to speak up. These are the leaders of their lives who, by their actions, advocate for those who have not yet found their own voice.


say it now

You’ve got to love social media (I do not).  The oxymoronic nature of the term, “social media” gives us a hint about how we arrived at the moment in time when distinguishing the truth from the not-so-truth is quite challenging.

But I digress…

Like many of you, perhaps, I have enjoyed Aretha Franklin’s music, her commitment to civil rights and her community over the years. As I was doing some light reading of various news outlets – and I do meant “light” reading, I came across a story about her that included the Twitter posts of many celebrities. Some of them were longtime friends and colleagues and others were, well, I’m not sure they knew her other than her name and some of her famous songs. As I continued to read through them, I started to wonder how many of them had shared their feelings, thoughts and beliefs about her accomplishments with her, when she was alive and well and could appreciate them; and why they felt so compelled to speak about her now. Hmmm…who is served by those “tweets”??

All of this reminded me of a few things:

  • Tomorrow is not promised;
  • We don’t always share our feelings with those we love or appreciate;
  • We are often afraid to speak our loving truth to someone who has made a difference in our lives;
  • The megaphone of “social” media seems an inappropriate place to “scream” our love and appreciation to or about anyone.

Our love, appreciation, compassion are best given directly to the recipient while they are here…now…to receive it. The circle of love is completed in the sharing of our feelings with another.

If a loved, appreciated or revered one has passed, we can offer our love, appreciation and gratitude via a silent prayer or loving thought, soul to soul.

Megaphones are not necessarily.

If you love someone, tell them now.

If you appreciate someone for what they have done – and especially if they are not aware of it – offer that appreciation, now.

If you are grateful for anything that you have, have learned or seen which resulted in opening your heart to another deep truth within you, and you can attribute it to another living, breathing human, tell them, now. If social media is all you have to offer that gratitude, try offering the loving energy of the prayer or silent thought. They will feel that blessing, too.

Say it, offer it, now.



love, unity, collaboration…and competition

Humankind has not woven the web of life. We are but one thread within it. Whatever we do to the web, we do to ourselves. All things are bound together. All things connect. 

 – Chief Seattle

This is one of those quotes that so deeply resonates, reading it always makes me pause to have another look at where we are collectively, as seen through my eyes, perspectives and beliefs. We all do it. In fact, we probably need to pause and reflect more often.

Today, this quote reminded me of my experiences of a recent Saturday.

While enjoying my early morning cup of coffee, I remembered the Royal Wedding was being televised here, and early! While watching the ceremony and all that unfolded after the ceremony with the carriage ride, three words seemed to float in and out of my head (and my heart)…Love, Unity, Collaboration. If you saw it for yourself, rather than reading all of the commentary in the days following the event, you saw it through your own eyes, perspectives and beliefs.

Later that evening, I happened upon the Preakness. Watching bits and pieces of it, and reflecting upon races of the past, I started to see something that I hadn’t seen the same way before. Competition. Looking at all of those beautiful animals, no longer running free and trained to run hard and fast, I couldn’t help but look at it all from the widest view possible. Many people are or become wealthy in the horse racing industry. What happens to the horses? At what cost….being first, richer or above it all?

The bookends of that day captivated me.

For your thoughtful consideration, I offer the following.




[kom-pi-tishuh n]


1. the act of competing; rivalry for supremacy, a prize, etc.:
2. a contest for some prize, honor, or advantage:
3. the rivalry offered by a competitor:


There are many aspects of our lives on this planet which are replete with competition – in one form or another. Some of it is easy to see. Some of it is not so visible…and yet, it underpins so much of our day-to-day experience. It’s not for me to identify all of the ways we as humans are competitive or to offer my observations about any of it. I’ve brought this here your consideration, reflection and comment, dear readers. We each see the world, our experiences in it and what we observe of others, through our eyes (sometimes our ears), perspectives and beliefs.

So…what do you think?

About Love, Unity and Collaboration?

About Competition?

How do YOU see these?



anger, rage and healing

I really believe that all of us have a lot of darkness in our souls. Anger, rage, fear, sadness. I don’t think that’s only reserved for people who have horrible upbringings. I think it really exists and is part of the human condition. I think in the course of your life you figure out ways to deal with that.

 – Kevin Bacon

In the course of our lives, we hope that we figure out ways to deal with the “anger, rage, fear, sadness” that we all feel.

I have written previously about grief. In some ways, I feel as if some of our fear, anger, and rage is rooted in the sadness of the unfelt, inexperienced grief. It is also worth mentioning here, that anger and rage also have connections to, if not deeper roots, in fear.

Many of us were taught to be “good”; to behave, to not say a “cross word” or to “keep our thoughts to ourselves.” When we are not in nurturing environments, where we are invited to talk about our feelings – whatever they may be – we generally put them away. We essentially bury them. We sure don’t believe rage is good….or that we are capable of feeling anything as intense and ugly in its display as that. Right?

Did you know that these buried feelings leak out? Did you know they find their way to the surface of our experiences – to the light of day, through the words we speak, the sharp judgment of others or the actions we take? Oh, how we wish they would remain buried…deeply buried in the dark recesses of the past. No one wants to dredge up all that stuff, right?


It would be impossible to estimate how much time and energy we invest in trying to fix, change and deny our emotions – especially the ones that shake us at our very core, like hurt, jealousy, loneliness, shame, rage and grief.

 – Debbie Ford

There are many ways in which the unexpressed, the unfelt or unspoken feelings manifest within. Depression. Chronic headaches. Hives or other breakouts. Stomach ulcers. Excessive weight gain.

How do we unleash this dark monster that lies so deep within us? How do we acknowledge all of these feelings, express all of this anger and process all of our grief?

There are so many ways to do the extremely important work of healing ourselves. And for each individual, what will ultimately facilitate the effective and successful reclaiming of oneself, is different. It’s also important to remember that it is a process, and not a one time fix.

Meditating, guided meditations, extensive journaling, screaming into pillows, beating our fists into pillows, talk therapy, crying all of those tears which have been held back for so very long, and the list goes on. There are many ways to embark upon this path. Taking responsibility for our healing is one of the greatest gifts we give ourselves…and others. When the breakthrough begins, we may notice that we have found more energy. We may find a part of ourselves that we didn’t even know we were missing. We find that compassion toward and acceptance of others where THEY are is so much easier.

How does one know if she has forgiven? You tend to feel sorrow over the circumstance instead of rage, you tend to feel sorry for the person rather than angry with him. You tend to have nothing left to say about it all.

 – Clarissa Pinkola Estes

This is the work of our lives. May you be blessed as you take those first sacred steps into the beauty that the darkness will unveil.

Love is always a heartbeat away…literally.



A sign caught my eye this morning. I saw these words, “standing against…” and I do not recall what followed. I was so surprised to see “standing against” that the rest of it got by me. I started to reflect on what “standing for” or “standing against” might really mean to so many people, especially at this time in our collective history.

Somewhere in my past, I recall someone saying, “if you stand for nothing, you will fall for anything.” Hmmm. I thought at the time. It made perfect sense to me, as I was pretty sure what I stood for. I felt I knew what was right and what was wrong, at the time.

Back to the subject at hand, here. Standing for something seems to feel more empowering. It’s as if we are summoned by love to stand for someone, some thing, some belief, some feeling. Standing against something might also feel empowering. It’s as if it is summoned from a place of fear and anger; as if to say, “I’m not going to take it anymore!”

I am reminded of the word resistance as I continue to ponder these in the context of what is happening in our world. In many places, resistance seems to be on the minds of many and is acted upon related to specific subject matter or topic. In fact, resistance has been used as a rallying cry by many to engage, incite or otherwise encourage others to rise up “against” something.

Perhaps the words of Thomas Jefferson serve as a call to embolden many and explain the rise of resistance:

When injustice becomes law, resistance become duty.

 – Thomas Jefferson

There are many who feel that they are standing UP when they stand against and resist what they perceive is being foisted upon them.


And then, these words call to a different way of being regarding resistance, force and fear.

. . . gentleness is stronger than severity, water is stronger than rock, love is stronger than force.

 – Hermann Hesse

There are many who feel that standing for something is standing UP, as well.



Is it best to stand for or stand against?

I leave that to you to decide for yourself.

Can we change a negative (resist) narrative to a positive (peace) one, perhaps by simply looking at an issue from a different angle?

“It is not for me to judge another man’s life. I must judge, I must choose, I must spurn, purely for myself. For myself, alone.”
– Hermann Hesse, Siddhartha


With gratitude to Loco’s Photos for consent to use these beautiful photographs.

guest post – ten things that should never be said to a grieving parent

Dear readers…

I am honored to offer you the powerful words of a friend who suffered one of the most challenging losses in a lifetime…the loss of a child.

I have known Kathy for a number of years and have come to deeply honor and respect her wisdom and experiences. Recently, we were discussing transitions in our lives and our common interest in words and writing. She shared the following with me and I responded to her with this: The beauty – the raw truth – of what you have here is among the most emotionally engaging pieces I have read in a very, very long time. 

The timing and poignancy of this post is certainly not lost on me. The events in Parkland, Florida, just this week, are yet one more example of how quickly change happens when unexpected tragedies directly touch our lives.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

There are ten things that should never be said to a grieving parent.

Or six things.

They are too much for the bereaved mind to handle. But the truth of the matter is that these ten or six or four hundred things will be said. They will be said and worse things will be said and you don’t so much want to shrivel up and die as you do want to be able to live with yourself and keep a claim on your sanity.

When I was a newly bereaved parent, I couldn’t believe what people said to me. And continued to say to me even after I said something forthright like: Please don’t say that to me or anyone else ever again. I became aware of people who wanted to pull me aside to have a private word with me. And that, I learned, was a 100% bad idea. Nothing positive was ever said. Confessions were made, god was exalted, god was bad mouthed. I had questions for them—like, why would you pull me away from a sunny day to say something awful to me? It was as awful as anything you might imagine.

What did people say? Oh, plenty. One of my brother’s sang this song: Oh, your father is dead and your brother is dead, and your sister is dead…then said, kath, remember that song by the dead kennedys? He’s my brother, and he knew we were suffering and he shouldn’t have said it to my daughter and me. But he did. A friend told me the week after my son died that I didn’t have the flu and maybe getting out of bed would make me feel better. But I did have the flu. Let’s assume I didn’t, I couldn’t lie in bed a few hours a day while I wrapped my brain around this? A woman wrote and told me that when her only child died, she felt like killing herself. And many days she still felt like killing herself. And that I probably would too. A friend of my mother’s called to tell me that no one cared about my troubles, I should just get over it, and I would be boring to my friends if I grieved much longer. A woman left a message on our phone saying, “You know the way these kids drive around they deserve…” but I pressed save right there every single time. I eventually erased it without listening to it all the way through. A reporter from the local newspaper called to ask me what I thought of the family whose son was in the car with ours. The boy who was killed in the car along with our son. Him and their family. What I thought. Imagine.


I was stunned. I was shocked. I could barely sleep for rethinking those phone calls. I could barely get through the day after chance meetings with acquaintances who said we needed to talk about the elephant in the room. I got a letter in the mail from a friend who that said they were so happy to have their intact family and our family’s tragedy had made them grateful every day for their healthy, robust children. Still. I jogged around the block every day. I was vertical. I helped my other children continue with their lives. I thought I was doing well. Yet I couldn’t believe how misunderstood I felt and how undone I must have appeared to so many others.

How was there not a language reserved for this situation? How is it that we all have to stumble along still using the same words the same language. How could salt still be salt? How could it be that there is not a second more tender language that everyone, everyone begins speaking after a tragedy of such proportion?

I was a god girl before and after the accident, but here’s a question that was really on my mind—why had god left me alone to fend for myself in the world of aggressively silly comments. I could only conclude that god had not left me alone. There was evidence all around. The friends who said nothing but showed up. The sister-in-law who could only cry and not offer one piece of advice. The acquaintance who waved and stayed on his side of the street. My running shoes pointing out the door every morning. The hey baby, hey darlin’ that are the priceless endearments earned by doing nothing in the south. One day I was in the produce section of a local grocery store, the only one I could bear to go into, when I caught the sympathetic eye of a woman who bestowed a look on me and said nothing.There was god, all right. I could see that. But my question every night—why didn’t god intervene in more of these situations I found myself in? I could only further conclude that it’s our job not god’s or anyone else’s to get it all straight.

Of course, here’s the problem.

What we saw and heard and did so transformed our atoms that we were immediately changed by it forever. Everyone else got to wake up every day without the knowledge we now had. Maybe other people stood by their bedroom windows that next morning, the first morning after our son and his friend died, and did as I did in noting that the sun had indeed come up. That the world was going on. I stood and noted that with my newly rearranged atoms and wondered complex thoughts about the beginning of time and what this time would be called. And wondered about my boy.

Here’s what we saw that seared our brains: the crash site with our son and his friend trapped in the twisted metal of the single car accident.

Here’s what we heard: nothing. Because when everyone at a crash site is dead there are no sirens.

Here’s what we did: my husband said I’m going over there, I held onto his arm and said do not look in that car, you will never, ever be able to live with what you see. We hugged our friends, the other parents, who had also driven to the crash site. We said words that are now lost, the fathers walked closer to the car, the mothers stood in the dark and held onto each other.

And other things: We went home and woke up our other children, we called our jobs, we called friends, we did not weep.

Not then. Not yet.

This is just to say that there’s no limit to the number of things that should not be said to a parent in grief.

But they will be said.

And, here’s the worst and best of it — you’re not above making the same kind of mistake. Three or four years after we lost our son, my husband and I walked to the house of a friend whose husband had just died. She had spent many, many hours on our couch talking about her husband, crying about her loss, her children. So much so that I felt intimate with her pain. And so when we walked to her house to express our sadness, I was instead struck stupid, smiling, asking people how they were. Smiling. Stupidly abstractly and without thought.

So what are you going to do? Do not hang on to bad thoughts, erase that damn voice message sooner, laugh at your brother’s stupidity for surely you will be stupid in much the same way in a second or two. And infuse that brain with new images—you’re not going to replace the image of the car or your son’s dead body for a while. It’s going to be years. But give your brain a fighting chance by exposing it to beauty. And then you have to forgive yourself for wishing stupid people more pain. Then forgive them. Then you have to stupidly love people again. That’s when your brain begins to see beauty.

Sometimes the slant of sunlight coming in a window at the close of day is enough. I swear, sometimes that alone it is enough.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thank you, Kathy.


“People are like stained glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within” 

-Elisabeth Kubler-Ross


random musings…reflections on a life

It’s an understatement to say that we live in crazy, or as a friend says, “fractured” times. I have learned to be objective about it all – from the players, to the choices, to the outcomes. I didn’t arrive here easily and I can still get exercised from time to time about the sheer lunacy of what I observe and some of what I have decided is a healthy curiosity about how and what others are seeing that is so radically different from what I see. In those random moments, I chalk it up to a very close-up rather than a wide-angle view of whatever the situation is, among other possibilities, which I will not even begin to waste my time or yours attempting to explain.

It is a lovely day here in the SE United States. Aside from the Russian spy ship way off the coast, it is a sunny, 75+ degree day in January! Yes, everything is totally crazy! I drove into town to pick up some groceries and on my way home noticed a car driving  beside me in the left lane, music blaring, windows down…someone enjoying the lovely multi-sensory experience that a day like this in January allows.

I was instantly transported to a very early time in my life when I did that. It was as if the music I chose would define me or at least let others know what I liked. Hair blowing in the breeze, I wanted to be seen, appreciated and hoped that the right guy might find it all interesting enough to try to find out who that girl was…except I was driving an old Ford LTD Country Squire wagon. Yep, real interesting. Hey, we all do what we can, right? It all brought a smile of appreciation to my face. I’ve come a very long way from then to now.

Then, I seemed to jump ahead to the period of time in my life when my children were teenagers and I was working. I had my hair highlighted with a soft blonde fairly regularly – about two to three times a year. It was a soft enough color that it could grow for a while – four months or so – before it was time to schedule another appointment. I also had my nails done regularly – every three to four weeks (gel nails…they could grow a while, too, before needing to be re-done). The story that I told myself about all of it was pretty shocking for the me of today. I felt I had to “look the part” of an executive. I talk with my hands…so they HAD to look good. Nothing flashy, just a clean french manicure look. And make-up? well, that was expensive too. Couldn’t be a pale face…

As I returned to the present time and considered the me that I see every day, I saw how clearly I so easily bought into the idea that I had to behave a certain way to be seen, appreciated or loved and I had to look a certain way to be accepted and taken seriously. I am still moved by reflecting on just how powerfully I fell into the societal expectations – some spoken and others assumed by observing others and how I kept trying to be what I thought I was supposed to be. The stories I created for myself about all of this were pretty convincing and kept me at the effect of it all for a number of years.

I am aware that there are others who never bought into all of that, and they were the happy outliers. I have always been a “late comer to the party”, if you will, including apparently my own.

I recently happened upon a poem that really brought all of this home.


As a child 
I was told and believed
that there was a treasure
buried beneath every rainbow.

I believed it so much that 
I have been unsuccessfully 
chasing rainbows
most of my life.

I wonder why 
no one ever told me 
that the rainbow
and the treasure
were both 
within me.

― Gerald G. Jampolsky, MD


Our rainbows and our treasures are indeed within. They are colorful, beautiful, abundant and rich. Each of us is all of that. It is not outside of us. Learning that idea; embracing that concept; and feeling my way into the heart of me, has brought me great joy. Learning to accept life as it is right now, in this very moment, in this very place, can be difficult. For our stories can make us feel anything but joyful.

Today, I love my gray hair. I appreciate my heart and believe it shines even more brightly now. I have realized over the years that my heart was always leading me. I gave, I supported, I cared for and I loved…genuinely and often at my expense. Today. I still give, care for, and love, genuinely…and I begin with me. When I am heathy, I am stronger; when I am rested, I am clear minded. When I allow myself essential quiet, my heart is open…and I listen and hear more deeply.

We start from where we start – often before we arrive.

We learn what we learn – or we don’t. It’s always a choice.

Today, I reflect on all of this…and so much more, and I know that all of my choices have brought me to where I am right now.

On our evolutionary journey, let us learn to love all of our experiences – the painful and ugly, the joyful and lovely. May we all find our rainbow within, and the treasure buried beneath it.



let it be

As I often do in the last month of the calendar year, I review posts in my journal from the previous months. I’ve done this for several years and found it to be a wonderful way to see my growth, progression and evolution. Changing my mind and opening my heart more and more to life – both its challenges and rewards – makes all of the difference in the way I greet and move into and through each day. Each day is different and for that I am grateful.

I came upon an entry in my journal from this month, last year (2016). The election was behind us and the emotions which were pouring from people on both sides of the outcome were vivid.  As is my practice, I looked at what I had written and considered my observations of that day and what I see today. I reflected on where I was then and where I am today as well. The words reflect both my observations, and upon reflection, I believe my feelings as well.

~  ~  ~

There are many terrified children all around. You will know them by the adult suits they are wearing. Their behavior is a give-away, too.
Anger and condescension mask a deep fear within. They are over-compensating to cover their beliefs that they are unprepared, unworthy and simply aren’t good enough or don’t have all they believe they need to be where they are. In addition, they are defensive and very reactive. Everything is a crisis which must be tended to and fixed right now!
They come across as confident and controlling when in fact they are not confident, and everything –  in their mind  –  is completely out of control.
What do these people need?
A steady, easy open-hearted soul who sees them for who they really are in this moment – another soul currently living a separated life. They need a person who can compassionately hold the space while listening to and allowing them to be who they truly are. This melting process – the shedding of armor – will take time. The reward is more joy – awakening with a sense of calm, peace, acceptance of life – as it is.
No need to fix, control or manipulate any of it. Just let it be.

~  ~  ~

We have one year of great change nearly behind us. I’ve had many opportunities to remember the importance of caring for myself. It is so easy to become distracted by the many events unfolding in our world today. What I know for sure is this: joining the negative voices – however passionate – does nothing to contribute to the healing of our planet and its inhabitants. Focusing on the beauty that we get to enjoy; taking good care of our bodies, minds and spirits; and engaging in more listening and less talking can make a positive difference in so many places – even in places that we have no idea we are impacting.

As one of the young people in my life says, “All acts impact.” I believe she is absolutely right about this.

So, before we speak; before we take an action; before we make a choice of any kind, perhaps taking a moment to pause and consider the energy that is informing and therefore infusing the act will give us an opportunity to make the best choice; to say the best, most positive words and bring more love, peace and joy into our world.

Let’s breathe before we respond, rather than reacting to so many things.

Let us practice be-ing and allowing others to simply be.

Let us free the scared child within. Let us hold him or her in our arms and provide a safe place for them to be the child they are. By seeing our scared inner children we will see the same in others. Compassion for self, compassion for others.




Let it be.


 The hummingbird is a symbol for the enjoyment of life and the lightness of being.