The Beauty of Becoming

Moonlight Shines on What We’ve Grown: The Beauty of Becoming
August Full Moon on birth, growth, and the gifts we hope to pass on.

As the August Full Moon rises—a time traditionally called the Sturgeon Moon, during this season of abundance and ripening—I find myself sitting in a moment of awe and deep reflection.

This moon feels especially personal this year.

Just days ago, I witnessed my daughter become a mother. In the last few months, she has been increasingly stepping into her full radiance— and now, birthing not only a child, but an entirely new chapter of her life. She made difficult, wise, and deeply embodied choices throughout her pregnancy and labor. Watching her trust her instincts so wholly, so clearly, stirred something ancient and tender in me.

She is different from me in beautiful ways.

She moves through life with tender deliberation—often fretting, asking questions, weighing possibilities until clarity emerges. I tend to move more by intuition, feeling my way forward with a deep listening to the unseen.

I leap, she navigates with careful consideration. But in those differences, I see something I think most parents quietly hope for: that our children will grow into their own way of being, and that we will still be close enough to truly know them.

This is differentiation—and today, it’s not a theory but a lived moment, illuminated by real life. It’s my daughter standing fully in herself, making choices that are uniquely hers, while our connection remains strong. It’s love that doesn’t need us to be the same.

As a mother, witnessing my daughter’s differentiation is profoundly moving. It means she is rooted enough in herself to make decisions that fit her life, not simply repeat my patterns or live by my preferences. It means that as she raises her child, she will bring her own way of being to that role—a way shaped by her experiences, her education, and her inner compass.

And now, with her child in her arms, I see the gift this will be: a home where belonging and individuality live side by side. I think ahead—20 years when I’ll be 89, 30 years when I’ll be 99 (yikes!)—I imagine looking back on the years of this child’s unfolding. I hope to see her, too, standing firmly in her own truth, connected to her family but free to be wholly herself. That is the legacy I wish to pass on: connection without control, love without conditions, belonging without the erasure of self.

This season, I also held space for our Mindful Summer program. Similarly, we didn’t bypass the hard places in favor of ease—we turned toward them. Again and again, we returned to the tenderness it takes to stay with what is real: grief, rage, longing, and joy all woven together.

What I see in my daughter, what I’ve witnessed in community, and what this moonlight is illuminating is the same truth: the full glow we long for often comes from what we’ve dared to feel, hold, and tend to in the uncertainty of the dark unknown.

And so, as this moon shines, I offer you this blessing:

Whether you are birthing a child, a dream, or simply a new way of being—may this moon’s light bless you to trust your inner wisdom, allow you to honor the cycles that shape you, and may you stand in the glow of what you’ve grown.

With deep reverence, Robin (aka Gramma Luna)

A Room with a Heartbeat

There’s a curtain I’ve been hesitant to pull back.

This week, I did. And this photo is what’s behind it.

Not a curated wellness space. Not a minimalist studio with fresh flowers and filtered light. But the very real room where I write, think, plan, teach, unravel, regroup, and begin again.

This photo tells a more honest story than a perfectly tidy desk ever could. It reflects the tension I’ve been living—the tension many of us live—between care and chaos, duty and desire, clarity and overwhelm.

This past week held a particular kind of weight: mounting grief in the world, exhaustion from hospital work, and a sharp pang of reckoning—realizing I’m still working when I had hoped to retire. I found myself spiraling into familiar patterns: busyness, clutter, avoidance. And in the middle of it all, I froze—and decided to watch The Quiet Girl, a haunting, tender film that cracked something open in me.

Its gentle unfolding helped me soften the harsh inner voice that was berating me for the state of this room (and of myself). It reminded me of the quiet child inside who still longs for presence more than perfection, tenderness more than order. And so I softened—and began to befriend the mess. Listening to what it reveals.

This space, cluttered as it is, holds the evidence of becoming. A thousand moments of showing up, preparing offerings, printing handouts, gathering notes, tending to what matters. It’s a reflection of a life that’s more than one thing at once.

And maybe that’s the invitation I want to extend—to you, and to myself:

What if our healing doesn’t require a tidy desk?
What if the real work is learning to stay present—right in the middle of the mess?
What if compassion, not perfection, is the gateway to meaningful change?

So here I am, pulling back the curtain—not to impress (haha, clearly!) but to connect.
To say: I’m here too. Still learning. Still loving. Still believing that presence is powerful medicine.

If you're navigating your own thresholds—between burnout and renewal, clarity and clutter—I see you. And you're not alone.

Let this be a gentle reminder: even here, transformation is possible. Creativity and healing can be messy and chaotic.

This is the room where I forget and remember,
Where the papers pile and the breath returns.
Where the clutter speaks of care,
And the dust carries the shimmer of dreams.
— A room with a heartbeat

Holding Grief, Creating Sanctuary

I’ve been walking on what seems like a razor’s edge lately
a place where grief meets a need to keep showing up.
Where heartbreak threatens to undo me,
and yet I know: the undoing is part of the remembering.

Last night, I kept hearing the echoes of children crying—in Gaza, and on our own streets here.
Not a metaphor—actual children.
Crying for food, for their parents, for safety that doesn’t exist.

And the world… watching.
Some are turning away.
Some are saturated with hatred.

And I ask myself:
What do I do with this kind of suffering?
With this sorrow, this helplessness, this horror, this rage?

I’m not the one under all the rubble.
I get to sit in the quiet of my home and choose when I engage.
And that is exactly why I must engage—
not out of guilt, but out of love.
Out of human responsibility.

Yet if I don’t create space to hold this pain…
I disassociate.
Or shut down.

And I don’t want that.
I want to stay open.
Connected.
Even when it hurts—
Especially when it hurts.

Sanctuary.

This word came to me mysteriously and I’ve centered my latest offering around it It holds rich meaning in other contexts:
Sanctuary cities.
Faith-based sanctuaries.
The sanctuary movement.

All of these are rooted in protection, refuge, and moral solidarity with those who are most vulnerable.

These movements inspire me. They are sacred.

Inner sanctuary, too, is a form of resistance.
It is how we strengthen ourselves to keep showing up.
How we reconnect to what is sacred,
to take action with steadiness, compassion, and courage.

I honor how this word has shown up as a guide.

Not as a way to escape suffering,
but as a way to stay fully human, fully awake, and still soft.

Sanctuary reminds me:
I don’t have to carry this pain alone.
That I can grieve and still show up.
That I can offer nervous-system-friendly spaces to others
so we can process together what the world keeps throwing at us.

With reverence for all forms of sanctuary—
Robin

ways to end the suffering in Gaza

Witness and Refuse to Look Away

• Name the truth: This is a humanitarian catastrophe. It is not just a conflict—it is an ongoing occupation, a siege, and now a genocide (as many international law experts have named it).

• Share verified information: Use your voice on social media, in community spaces, with your representatives. Break the silence. Muzzle propaganda by sharing firsthand accounts and journalism from sources like — Al Jazeera, Democracy Now, or Jewish Voice for Peace.

Political Pressure—Relentlessly

• Call your representatives (daily or weekly). Demand: Immediate ceasefire; End to U.S. military aid and weapons sales to Israel; Accountability under international law; Support legislation like the Ceasefire Now Resolution or bills aiming to condition aid and uphold human rights; Use tools like 5calls.org, Jewish Voice for Peace Action, or IfNotNow to streamline actions.

Redirect Resources

• Donate to trusted humanitarian aid groups still working inside Gaza (though even many of them are being bombed and blockaded). Examples:

  • Palestine Children’s Relief Fund

  • Medical Aid for Palestinians

  • UNRWA (despite political attacks, they are still serving refugees)

  • Support Palestinian businesses and boycott companies complicit in the occupation (such as those listed by the BDS Movement: HP, Puma, Starbucks, etc.).

Gather in Community

• Attend or organize vigils, protests, art actions, interfaith ceremonies, sit-ins, and public mourning rituals. Show up visibly.

• If you're part of a spiritual or activist community, consider forming a Gaza Solidarity Circle that includes:

  • Prayer or meditation

  • Letter writing

  • Public awareness campaigns

  • Emotional processing

Tend the Inner Soil

This is grief work. To stay awake to this much horror requires emotional resilience, soul care, and radical compassion—not to numb, but to stay present.

• Breathe. Cry. Light candles. Tend the garden. Make art. Let the land or the river hold your pain.

• Ask: What does love call me to do today?

Uplift Palestinian Voices

• Read and share the work of writers like:

  • Mohammed El-Kurd

  • Raja Shehadeh

  • Refaat Alareer (killed in Gaza in December 2023)

  • Mariam Barghouti

  • Centering Palestinian narrative is resistance to erasure.

If you’re longing for a place to breathe, to reconnect to your inner sanctuary,
I invite you to join Mindful Summer—
a 4-week summer sanctuary of presence, reflection, and care.
We’ll root into what’s real, and remember the strength that grows when we gather in conscious community.

Under the Flower Moon

“Boundaries are the distance at which I can love you and me simultaneously”

— Prentis Hemphill

This week in my Mindful Living course, we’re exploring the art of mindful communication—how we listen, how we speak, and how we honor the spaces in between. And life, in its ever-orchestrated timing, offered me a moment to reflect more deeply on this very theme.

An Airbnb guest staying in our home recently needed a ride to the airport. Her early morning Uber fell through repeatedly, and at 3:20 AM, I found myself waking with concern. After checking in with her, I offered to drive. What unfolded was a warm, authentic conversation between two women in motion: we spoke about divorce, healing, family, the mystery of life’s unfolding. It was meaningful. It was beautiful. And it left me… unsettled.

Not because of the connection, but because I realized later that I had overridden some of my own needs.

I hadn’t been clear about boundaries. I hadn’t asked for support in return. I had defaulted to kindness, which I value deeply, but without making space for reciprocity.

This isn’t about blame or regret. It’s about the subtle inner tension that arises when we want to be kind and honest. When we want to show up for others and for ourselves. It’s about how tricky it can be to name our needs, especially when we’ve been conditioned to associate kindness with self-sacrifice.

Where do we learn to speak up when something doesn’t sit right without guilt?

Who taught us that honoring our limits can coexist with care?

In truth, many of us weren’t given models for this kind of communication. We learned to prioritize harmony, to avoid discomfort, to be “nice.” But mindfulness invites something different: it asks us to be present with what’s really here—to listen inwardly, and then find words that reflect the wholeness of our experience.

I’ve come to see that mindful communication isn’t just about what we say, but the courage to pause and ask:

What’s true for me right now?

What am I giving?

What do I need?

And can I share that with kindness, even if it feels vulnerable?

There’s no perfect script. Just a willingness to stay curious, to notice when resentment arises, and to gently name it before it grows. This is the terrain I’m walking. And maybe you are too.

If you’ve ever left a conversation wishing you had said more—or less—know that you’re not alone. We’re all learning. Together.

This work—of speaking truth with care, of honoring both self and other—is tender and brave. We’re not meant to do it alone. 

May you find the spaces, circles, and communities that help you practice this kind of mindful living with compassion, clarity, and the courage to keep growing. 

We're all learning. 

Rising in Magic

A Personal Journey of Community, Healing, and Synchronicity

There are moments in life when the thread becomes visible—a shimmering line of connection running through our experiences, relationships, longings, and choices. For me, that thread has been mindfulness—not just as a practice, but as a way of living. A way of orienting myself toward the world, toward others, and perhaps most importantly, toward the deeper wisdom that can arise when I slow down, breathe, and truly listen.

Over the past several years, I’ve been slowly and lovingly growing a community of seekers, healers, and change-makers by living an integrated life—one rooted in holistic nursing, integrative medicine, spiritual traditions, and seasonal, earth-honoring practices. It’s been a weaving, really—a tapestry created not through strategy, but through showing up in authenticity, again and again.

At the heart of this evolution has been the unwavering support and inspiration of women. The sisterhoods I’ve been blessed with—spiritual companions, friends, mentors, fellow creators—have been my lifelines. These women have reminded me, often in quiet and subtle ways, that there is strength in softness, power in presence, and healing in shared vision. They’ve taught me that we don’t walk this path alone—and that’s part of the magic.

Still, I sometimes hesitate to share these reflections, unsure if I’ll sound too certain and all-knowing. But I’ve slowly come to see that leadership rooted in mindfulness and heart doesn’t require perfection—only presence, and the courage to keep showing up. If anything in my journey resonates, I hope it meets you where you are right now with kindness.

When I look back, what I keep returning to is this: magic happens when I center my life in mindfulness.

Not magic as an escape, but magic as a response.
Magic as co-creation.
Magic as a felt sense of alignment.

At the heart of any mindfulness practice is a simple triad:
Intention. Attention. Attitude.

When I clarify my intention—naming what really matters to me…
When I bring loving attention to my breath, my body, and the people and places I care for…
When I cultivate an attitude of openness, kindness, and trust in our fundamental intraconnection…
Something begins to shift.

There have been many times when living from this center has felt like an invitation—when something unexpected opened, when a conversation led to new insight, when the right person or opportunity seemed to arrive with uncanny timing.

These moments—the ones we sometimes call “synchronicities”—are not flashy or grand. But they feel deeply alive. Over time, I’ve come to see them not as coincidences, but as subtle nudges—glimmers that invite me to pay attention and consider: What possibilities are unfolding here?

This is not about having all the answers, or choosing the “right” path.
It’s about learning to recognize choice points as sacred.
It’s about responding with curiosity instead of control.
It’s about following the thread, again and again, even when the weave isn’t yet visible.

What strengthens this visioning—what keeps it from collapsing under pressure—is my relationship with Spirit. The creative life force that pulses through nature, breath, ritual, and love. When I offer gratitude to that life force, when I remember that I’m not separate from it, I feel resourced. I feel guided. I feel connected to something much larger than myself.

This journey hasn’t been linear or easy. There have been seasons of grief, of confusion, of pulling back to re-center. But in each season, I’ve found my way back to mindfulness. And from there, the way forward always reveals itself—often through the love of others, through quiet synchronicity, through nature, or through a flash of insight that comes not from striving, but from simply being.

I share this reflection with the hope that it might resonate in some way—and perhaps encourage you to notice your own thread, your own subtle guidance, and the beauty that can emerge when we choose to listen.

Your life is its own beautiful weaving.
Your voice, your longings, your way of seeing—these are part of what’s needed.
You don’t need to have it all figured out.
You just need to be willing to meet the moment with honesty and care.

May you feel the magic that lives in your breath.
May you honor the guidance that lives in your heart.
And may you trust that the universe, too, is listening.

With gratitude and grace, Robin

When the Trees Speak: Finding Light in the Fractures

Last November, a tree fell in my driveway, crushing three cars. Mine was totaled, my husband's car had its back window shattered, and a guest’s car was damaged. It wasn’t just the loss of the vehicle—it was the feeling that something had fractured deep inside me. Along with the recent election, I sensed a shift in my world, an unraveling of a sense of safety I had unconsciously relied on. I was no longer shielded from harm, no longer protected.

In my search for steadiness, I went to the old ash tree I pray with on my property. It’s a tall, leaning elder, and when I stand before it, pressing my forehead to its bark, I feel held in something ancient and wise. That day, I asked for guidance, for some way to make sense of what was happening. The tree’s message came clear:

We are all at risk now. Many of us will suffer. It is time to get your affairs in order.

I have kept this wisdom close. Not in fear, but in recognition. The world is shifting. The fractures are real. And yet, within them, we have choices.

News of Trump’s executive order rolling back protections for endangered species to allow more logging is another reminder of the deep unraveling we are living through. It would be easy to turn away, to become numb, to feel powerless in the face of so much destruction. But as Clare Dubois asks, “What will you focus on, the fractures or the light?”

The fractures are unavoidable. But so is the unifying field of love that permeates everything. Even as the world shatters, we can choose where we place our attention. We can tune into the deeper possibilities emerging, the dormant codes of a new world waiting to be awakened.

Thích Nhất Hạnh, witnessing the horrors of war in Vietnam, did not turn away. He taught Engaged Buddhism—staying present to suffering, yet responding with love and action. He showed that true change does not come from turning away or drowning in despair, but by standing fully awake in both the pain and the possibility.

For those feeling powerless: Breathe. Connect. Remember. Let your heartbreak widen your heart, not shut it down.

For those feeling rage: Channel it wisely. The world does not need more fragmentation, but a relentless, persistent, fierce love in action. Mobilize. Protect. Build. Hold one another steady as we move forward.

The tree was right—we are all at risk now. But we are also all capable of holding the light, of becoming beacons for each other. This is not a time to turn away. It is a time to turn toward, to gather, to strengthen our capacity to stay present and act with wisdom.

If you need support in finding steadiness through these times and building the skills to stay awake and engaged, I invite you to explore mindfulness practices. Mindfulness is not an escape but a way of standing in the storm with clarity and resilience—a way to stay rooted, even as the winds howl around us.

Searching for Hope in the Dark

Tonight, I find myself untangling threads of emotion, stirred by a film and the hauntingly familiar chords of Bob Dylan’s music. A Complete Unknown transported me back to a time when hope was loud, when music carried the voice of a generation demanding justice, equality, and change. The sixties and seventies were turbulent, yet underneath the chaos there was an undeniable rhythm, a unifying force that propelled us forward. Hearing those songs again, I felt an ache for what once was—a time when we believed we could change the world.

But now, standing in this present moment, it feels different. The weight of today’s chaos presses down, heavy and relentless. The noise of the world is deafening, drowning out any clear call for unity. Instead of a guiding light, there is fire—literal and metaphorical—consuming the structures we once believed in. Destruction looms in every corner, and leadership in places of power feels hollow, reactive, and driven by greed rather than vision.

I have always been a forward-thinker, a believer in the power of possibility, in our capacity to rise. Yet, something in me whispers that we must face the collapse before we can dream of rebuilding. Maybe it is too late for salvaging what is. Maybe the earth, in her infinite wisdom, is rising to sweep away what no longer serves life. And maybe, just maybe, we must let it fall.

In the face of this unraveling, despair simmers just beneath the surface, but it doesn’t own me. I know where I must turn—where I have always turned—back to the earth, to the stars, to the ancient rhythm that hums beneath the noise. I lean into love, into compassion, and into the fierce wisdom of those who came before me. They knew darkness, too. They faced endings and found beginnings hidden in the ashes.

So, I will do what I can, here and now. I will nurture my inner light, however fragile it feels. I will seek the helpers, stand beside them, and offer what strength I have. I will pray, not for an easy path but for courage and clarity. I will continue to be a resource for those around me, no matter how small my circle may seem. And I will trust that even in the dark, there is something sacred unfolding.

This may be an end, but perhaps it is also a beginning. The sun and moon rises, and so must we.

Does your heart need a hug?

As adults we are champions at putting our best foot forward.

Yesterday was one of those days for me. It was a travel day, getting up in the wee hours of the morning to navigate airports and shuttles to visit my son in the high mountains of Colorado. Every thing went smoothly without a hitch.  

That said, I'm not a fan of flying so yesterday required a fair amount of suppressing images of plane doors blowing out and wrestling with my conscience about all that oil being used. I'm not quite a white knuckle flyer, yet it does require pushing through a fair amount of unpleasantness.

This morning I woke up early and meditated. In the silence and stillness my inner child's heart was present. As I stayed listening and feeling, I realized just how much I have been holding. And how much my soft gentle nature was overwhelmed and needed me. My heart needed a hug. 

Life can be very overwhelming. All of us are holding so much each day. We want to do our best. So we worry and care about our families and friends. We care about the earth, our brother's and sisters who are hurting from war and famine. We care about the future.

What is your heart holding today? 

This morning reminded me of the importance of holding space for myself and others. By the end of my meditation and journaling about my experiences, I was soothed. The knot in my stomach was gone. I was able to meet the day once again to do my best.

The transformative medicine of Mindfulness kind of shows up like the movie, 50 First Dates! We forget. We remember. We forget. We remember.

We're human. We run on auto pilot much of the day. We forget the wonders of pausing to be present, to BE with, and reconnect to integrate.

I found that most of us need community to learn and practice daily mindfulness. I know I did, and still do.

If you do, too, consider joining our transformative 8 week Mindfulness class Mindful Living: Foundations in Mindfulness . This time around I am teaching locally at Day Kimball Hospital. Reach out if you're interested in other resources.

With a deep sense of care and compassion.

Here's a hug,

Robin

Is my mind poised for growth?

We had several tree casualties this winter. A couple uprooted and fell. And last week a perfectly healthy tree broke and fell on our shed.

It got me thinking about what fosters growth and what causes a breakdown or a fall.

Is my mind poised for growth?

Our stress response is hardwired inside our reptilian survival brain to react quickly, with a fixed and narrowed focus.

When life gets accentuated with unpredictable events, we can weather it for a while, but like trees, there is a tipping point when we become 'too saturated' and fall.

We all have our limits. And when we reach our window of tolerance, we find ourselves feeling more anxious, stressed, and overwhelmed. Then one more problem or issue feels like the last straw and we start doing or saying things that are not in our best interest, as we look for the quick fix to alleviate our discomfort

Growth-oriented people see themselves as a continual work in progress. They are more interested in learning than protecting. More interested in saying, "I made a mistake. What can I learn from this?" than denying their mistakes. They want to understand where, how and why they are falling short instead of justifying, ignoring, and denying actions that are not aligned with well-being.

A growth mindset is not an innate characteristic, but a perspective that can be nurtured over time.

10 perspectives to nurture a growth mindset journey

1. Recognize Fixed Mindset Traps

Nurturing a growth mindset begins by becoming aware of its opposite--a “fixed mindset” and seeing how it shows up in the form of self-limiting beliefs, fear of failure, avoidance of challenges, or a negative reaction to feedback. Once you’re able to recognize these moments, you can start to intentionally shift your perspective.

2. Embrace Challenges

A person with a growth mindset views and responds to challenges by recognizing that they are not roadblocks on the path, they’re opportunities to learn and grow. Growth comes from stretching your abilities, stepping out of your comfort zone, and daring to do what you once thought impossible.

3. Don’t Fear Failure

Redefine failure. Don’t see failure as a dead end. Instead, view it as a learning experience — a stepping stone on your path to success. Failure isn’t proof of incapacity; it’s a testament to bravery for daring to try. So, the next time you fail, be kind and look at what went wrong, learn from it, and use that knowledge to do better next time.

4. Value Effort

Recognize that effort is the engine that drives growth. Even when progress seems slow, your effort isn’t wasted; it’s building the resilience and strength you need to achieve your goals. See the value of hard work and perseverance, and celebrating these efforts, to reinforce the belief that abilities can be honed and expanded with time and dedication.

5. Continue To Learn

The desire to learn is a fundamental pillar of a growth. It’s about being endlessly curious and seeking out new knowledge. Try to view each day as an opportunity to learn something new. Whether it’s mastering a new skill, delving into a subject you’ve always been interested in, or even learning a fun new recipe, embrace the joy of learning.

6. Cultivate Persistence

Persistence is the lifeblood of a growth. It’s the willingness to keep going even when things get tough. When met with challenges, instead of retreating into the comfort of the known, try to lean into the discomfort. Persistence as a growth mindset is about appreciating the journey as much as the destination, valuing the process and not just the outcome.

7. Seek Out Constructive Feedback

The ability to accept and act upon constructive feedback is crucial for adopting a growth mindset. It provides an outside perspective that can highlight blind spots and opportunities for growth. Feedback is your friend — it’s a tool for growth, not a personal attack.

8. Surround Yourself With Growth-Minded People

Surrounding yourself with people who also have a growth mindset can greatly impact your journey. Their positive attitudes, resilience in the face of challenges, and constant pursuit of growth can inspire and motivate you. Plus, they can provide invaluable support, advice, and encouragement as you navigate your own path to growth.

9. Celebrate Your Small Wins And The Success Of Others

Embracing a growth mindset involves taking inspiration from the success of others, rather than viewing it as a threat. Celebrate the achievements of your peers and consider what you can learn from their journey.

Most importantly, celebrate each small win and success of your own! Don’t sell yourself short. Pausing to feel gratitude for your steady growth is how you will build the strength to keep growing.

10.Develop a Growth Mindset through Mindfulness

Mindfulness cultivates self awareness to interrupt fast brain energy and automatic habits. Mindfulness helps you to access the slow brain response needed to make wiser decisions. It boosts the growth process because it allows you see what’s really going on. It also develops your inner strength to feel and embrace uncomfortable feelings instead of resisting and numbing out.

Our minds can be our undoing and our greatest asset. Mindfulness has nurtured my ability to live life with more joy, well-being and resiliency

Spring Equinox Blessings,

Robin

Compassionate Listening

My life. My busy Life. My exciting, busy life.

I have two distinct ‘skill’ sets. The first and primary skill resides largely as a visionary. A creative intuitive visionary. I am not short of fun, out of the ordinary, amusing, insightful, dare I say, brilliant ideas. The execution of these ideas falls into the second domain…and there lies my quirkiness.

My second skill, is less clearly defined, let’s just call it a plodding-whimsical-planner. I like things to be well mapped out, with tangible markers. Yet my productivity can be characterized as being slow and steady, sprinkled with amusing deep dives, getting lost in a thread, emerging with bits and pieces that may or may not make it onto my most desired map of tangible specifics.

I’ve learned to live with these anomalies. But they can and DO create quite a racket inside of me from time to time.

For the past few months, my meditations have sourced this feeling of wind energy, skimming over the ocean creating turbulence on its surface. Frisky energy that isn’t all that pleasant or satisfying. When I stay with this feeling, welcoming and allowing its presence, I find an uncomfortable separation, inviting me to slowly drop down, down into the dark unknown water of a distant past.

As I settle into this depth, images of my beloved newborn self emerge, fearful, alone, abandoned. Gently with a mothers heart, ever ready and willing, I pick up this beloved swaddled self and draw her close to my heart. Tears fall. Feeling the instinctive movement of my hands over heart, the sensations of this touch, swaying and rocking, are like lullabies welcoming and soothing these buried feelings.

My newborn and I have come very far during this amazing life. She had been a guide into deep waters before. Whenever we meet, I feel more whole. This, I believe is my souls journey to integration and wholeness.

I am not sure where this current journey as an entrepreneur will take me—how I will integrate the visionary and the whimsical plodding planner. But I do know I have entered something vital and important. I have so many notations on my old and wrinkled map— all those collected bits and pieces, tools and resources I have gathered all these years. Amazing teachers, mentors, companions, family and friends, and a community of deep divers all by my side.

And I am devoted. Ever ready to offer what I can to support others on their own journey towards wholeness and integration.

Like a life ring thrown out to bring me ashore, this poem by Danna Faulds arrived at the end of my morning meditation today.

May the light of the summer illuminate everything good and beautiful about you,

Robin

“The moment your eyes are open, seize the day.Would you hold back when the Beloved beckons?Would you deliver your litany of sins like a child’s collection of sea shells, prized and labeled?“No, I can’t step across the threshold,” you say, eyes downcast.“I’m not worthy, I’m afraid, and my motives aren’t pure.I’m not perfect, and surely I haven’t practised nearly enough.My meditation isn’t deep, and my prayers are sometimes insincere.I still chew my fingernails, and the refrigerator isn’t clean.”Do you value your reasons for staying small more than the light shining through the open door?Forgive yourself.Now is the only time you have to be whole.Now is the sole moment that exists to live in the light of your true Self.Perfection is not a prerequisite for anything but pain.Please, oh please, don’t continue to believe in your disbelief.This is the day of your awakening.
”

— Danna Faulds

Summer Solstice

Im so excited!

Plant Medicine class begins.

The whisper came during winter dreaming, it showed up loud and clear during a meditation this spring.

Now, one the eve of summer solstice, i begin this journey into a fellowship with plant allies.

After a contemplative walk gathering what leaves and flowers, herbs and trees I planted over the years, as well as invasive plants im arguing with, I created this mandala intention altar next to my bed. The journey has been set in motion.

May this journey be in service to the greatest good.

May this teaching from Asia Suler, One Williow Apothecary, help me walk more attune to the woodlands and land I am caring for on Windy Hill.

May all beings be at home here.

May wellbeing and prosperity flourish

Solstice Blessings,

Robin

Imbolc-The Promise of Renewal

May the growing light awaken and ignite

your one of a kind beauty!

I recently watched a video from Asia Suler, One Willow Apothecaries about how awakenings show up. She has an unique and beautiful way of making the connections between humans and nature. In this video she speaks directly to the transition of winter into spring.

"You don't need to rush your own flowering, you just need to show up for the whims of your inner feelings, tiny insights and flashes that give you a glimpse of what is moving within."

It got me thinking how easy it is for turbulent thoughts, reactivity or being so busy and exhausted we end up falling into patterns of coping that may interfere with noticing the beauty of our world around and inside us.

As Asia so beautiful points out, the process of awakening isn't a straight forward, feel good unfolding. Just like the fits and starts of new life stirring right now~ there are blue skies, gray skies, warmer days, then snow storms, and wet, damp cold days. So too, goes our own awakening.

When we attune and respect the rhythmic nature of life, we begin to trust and even appreciate this uneven process. We can even begin to notice how reactivity and agitation can actually be a gate way to greater intimacy and blossoming of our unique, one of a kind beauty.

This may seem contradictory, and counter intuitive. How can reactivity and agitation be a gate way?

Well, they are uncomfortable. And that discomfort can tell us we need to pause, turn inward to listen.

Agitation and reactivity are built in survival responses to mobilize immediate action to protect us. Unfortunately this stress response also takes us offline to allow the primitive part of our brain to take over. We say something, do something, eat or drink something that ultimately is a quick and often ineffective response that doesn’t lead us to resolution or well-being.

With practice though, we can catch ourselves, allow the rush of the stress chemicals to be a cue to pause rather than continue to launch into a full blown fight-flight-freeze stress reaction. We can only do this effectively if we befriend the emotional and sensory discomfort.

Huh?

We need to come back to our bodies, feel the raw uncomfortable body sensations of anger, jealously, impatience, or whatever is triggering us. This is the doorway we need to go through to come back on line to regain a calmer, wiser response.

Once we cross this threshold, with practice we can steady ourselves enough to listen and investigate what is going on. We can learn how to turn towards ourselves with tenderness and care, connect to our needs, and access our creative minds to choose the best path forward.

Each time we take this path, we learn more about ourselves, our unique responses to life, what matters most to us. And ultimately, we can, with time begin to source our unique one of a kind beauty.

This isn’t a one and done kind of thing. It takes time, forgiveness, compassion and patience.

For many, mindfulness has been a reliable practice to source this kind of life nourishment. No matter what trouble arises, pausing to be present and allowing what is alive inside and out, can be a reliable companion to guide us back to see the goodness that is always here.

What are your trustworthy practices and GO TO's to calm and steady yourself when life gets turbulent?

How you are experiencing this transition from winter to spring?

Take heart if you are feeling this transition in challenging ways.

In Chinese medicine, Spring is associated with the liver and with the emotion of anger. It takes energy for seeds to burst open and evolve into their full expression.

The bright colors and warm exuberance of spring is coming. For now, take a moment to BE WITH and feel the pure bodily sensations of whatever is happening with as much acceptance and kindness you can muster.

May this listening and allowing serve you well.

May the light of kind attention awaken the seeds of wellbeing that lie waiting.

If you would like to deepen you ability to be more attentive and supportive to what lies within; learn how to calm turbulent thought patterns to find a path to heal and grow; to find a reliable steadiness to nourish your true potential for wellbeing consider joining our 8 week Mindful Living class for a special dose of self care and kind listening.

Mindful Living: Foundations in Mindfulness is offered in the Spring and the Fall

May you always find something to enhance your well being at East and West of the River.

With full moon light and blessings,

Robin

What Lies Unseen

February Blessings

I invite you to take a moment to consider your deepest and most trustworthy beliefs. What can you put your faith in when life gets dark?

I ask this because, life can be hard, things happen. And at one time or another, we may find ourselves living inside a situation where we don't have any answers. 

We are lost in the mystery of how things will or will not turn out. 

A difficult situation, a health challenge, or a mood grabs hold of us and won't let go, lasting much longer than we feel equipped to cope with, or those moments when we feel we have exhausted all reserves for hope and positivity. 

What do you turn to? 

Recently in our mindfulness practice group, An Awaken Heart, we have been exploring one of the core understanding in mindfulness - within each human being there is a fundamental goodness.

For some, this may feel like a stretch. With the division and often hatefulness going on in our world, perhaps this idea feels nice, but.....

However, if we dig into the word goodness it begins to point us to a valuable perspective, and that is, it points to a deep sense of belonging to something much greater than the ego's perspective of I, me and mine.

It offers the possibility and courage to open to the darkness and unknown to retrieve a sense of belonging to something much broader, kinder, and more trustworthy. 

For many of us, mindfulness is a reliable, trustworthy resource to access this greater sense of belonging. Here's why-

When I am suffering, triggered by this or that, and I feel myself contracted and constricted by the fear of what may be, AND I REMEMBER...

I REMEMBER to turn towards rather than push away by PAUSING, BEING STILL AND BEFRIENDING the discord/discomfort swirling around inside me, awareness widens. 

Otherwise, difficult feelings or situations I push away as unwanted or unwelcome tend to get buried OR lead to unhelpful, defensive strategies that tend to create more suffering.They fuel my mind with repetitive circular, often fear based thoughts and conversations. 

When I can remember to turn towards not away from this discomfort, reliably I find more space to just BE WITH what is true in the moment. This hurts. This upsets me. I am scared...sad...angry...leaning into whatever is right there.

With this pausing, slowly but surely, I find mindful awareness allows me to be able to acknowledge and appreciate the discomfort as a guide to what needs to be soothed, what needs TLC. A calming presence slowly builds from which I am then able to reconnect to a broader more integrated perspective to move forward, and more often than not, I am restored with a sense of peace, and new resources and next steps are there for me to see.

Whispering THIS BELONGS has been a useful mantra to help me lay out this kind of mindful welcome mat.

Mother Theresa speaks to this idea this way--

If we have no peace, it is because we have forgotten 

that we belong to each other

Carl Jung speaks to it this way 

(this tendency we all have of pushing away and burying what feels uncomfortable and unwanted)

Suffering arises from the unseen, unfelt parts of ourselves

And then, there is this from Tara Brach

There is a sacred loving awareness that shines though all of life 

Each of us has the potential 

to perceive this loving awareness

to discover it from our own beingness 

and live by that awareness 

I have found mindfulness practice to be a reliable North Star to help me reconnect with a greater good inside and outside of me.

May you always find something valuable to enhance your wellbeing at East and West of the River Wellness. 

With grace and gratitude, 

Robin

Art image: Judith Bird