Two Swans and a Tambourine

Gosh, what a trip.  This life thing we are doing.

I’ve been thinking about you a lot over these last few years.  Even the years I didn’t write at all.  And wondering how your journey has been unfolding.

Mine has been bizarre and awe inspiring, humbling and infuriating.  It has been all of it.

Today I am enjoying dancing in that mystical state of wonder.  For how shimmery and beautiful and mesmerizing this whole process can occasionally be.

A few nights ago I was watching a drummer play a tambourine. Just a tambourine.  And yet… he was so alive, so sparkly and shiny as himself, it was as if he had broken through the veil between realities; as if I could see the star dust he is made from… the god particles that he is… the uniqueness that only he is here to shine as.

It was… transcendent? Is that too strong a word?  It didn’t feel like it.  He was simply being himself… and yet it felt like just watching him was changing the very structures of my cells.

I realized that these are really the moments I live for these days. The startling moments when I see that perfect uniqueness shining through someone, or even more mystifying, when someone provokes that uniqueness out of me.

I have two swans: Gwendolyn and Theodore.  They are funny and majestic, but they cannot fly (it’s a terrible story I will write about some day, but all “pet” swans have their wings clipped and are grounded. It is heartbreaking. Full stop.)  But when swans, even pet swans, have babies… after a few months of shuffling the cygnets around on their backs, and then the tiny fluff balls trailing mama in the water… the babies fly away.  They migrate.  Sometimes hundred or thousands of miles.  Without ever having seen their parents fly.

Something in them knows. It knows where they are going.  And what they are here to do.  Something deep within them knows exactly who and what they are.

Today I find the drummer and the swans merging within me.  They are swirling together, reminding me of two very mystical truths.

One: We are each divinely unique creatures.

Two: In spite of anything the world has tried to tell you that you are, or that you should be— there is something unbreakable inside each of us that simply knows.

Something within you knows what kind of creature you are.  How your awareness works.  What is most valuable to your system.

Something inside you knows how to migrate.  Something inside you knows how (and where and when) to fly.

You have a compass.  You have homing devices.

Five years ago I had a shattering that showed me how infinitely far I had gotten from myself.  How much I had given my authority away. It was deeply destabilizing   And humbling.  And if you have followed me or my journey for long, you will know, I chose to be silent for a very long time.

Should you be curious, you can read my story of that unraveling, and healing here.

But the short version is simply that life is remarkable.  And at the perfect moment I was gifted with a fascinating and deeply useful vehicle for beginning the journey of finding my way back home.

And man, I don’t claim that my journey is like anyone else’s. Or that my path is for you. Or that I am now anything other than deep within my own process.

But I am now someone who shouts madly from the rooftops “Keep digging! It’s worth it!  There is so much to be gained from becoming yourself!”

Whether life invites you to gently stumble upon yourself, dances you sweetly into your essence, (or drags you naked, moaning, with bloody knees, across large shards of shattered glass to get you to exactly where you need to be for your own awakening)… What an orchestration!  What life! I cheer you on.

You are a swan! (Or a purple ladybug, or a dragonfly who tap dances in her sleep).

The point is– you are unique.

And the most fascinating game on the block (to me) goes like this: Find out, somehow, what you are! And then surrender, whole heartedly, to watching your distinctive life unfurl.

I believe we each have the potential of waking up to our own frequency and uncovering what kind of creature we are. Should you choose to play, I suspect you will be tickled (mystified, satisfied, surprised) by the journey as well.

Much love to you on your journey, wherever it is taking you. I hope it includes moments of astonishment, as you wake up to the beauty of who and what you truly are.

In joy,

Blossom

My Journey With Human Design

Human Design has been a journey of personal healing for me. It was never something I set out to teach. I honestly didn’t know if I would ever have the stomach to teach anything ever again.

I came to find Human Design after what I can only describe as a shattering. I had been teaching in the personal development space for a decade, in a fairly public way, that made me feel relatively important, and like I mattered in the world. But I was teaching someone else’s work, and like most spaces revolving around power and money, there were all kinds of rules to stay in that game. Over time, I started compromising more, hiding more, telling people what they wanted to hear, lying to myself.

I was out of integrity with my body. I knew I couldn’t stay. But being good at pulling strings, I felt confident I could manage this exit with grace and flair. Leave but maintain my friendships and reputation. Realign me to my truth, but not have to sacrifice anything to do that. How wrong I was!

My attempt to extricate myself gracefully quickly turned into a bad tragi-horror-comedy. It was like I was in quicksand… surrounding a nuclear reactor. The more I struggled, the faster I sank.

Then, one day, in the middle of a situation I literally had no internal resources to navigate, my horse stepped on my head. And there… I finally did something I had never considered before. I stopped struggling. I surrendered. I let it all go.

I came up from my concussion months later feeling deeply broken. My mind was desperate to make sense of what had happened. Terrible things had been said to me, about me, that I had a real need to sort out. Was I wrong? Were they wrong? Who was I actually? What had I been hiding? What did I believe in or care about? And how in the world had I gotten so disconnected from myself?

My journey over the next four years was steeped in silence, reflection, studying (studying, studying), and nature. For all intents and purposes, I basically pulled myself out of the world. I left social media. Abandoned my email list. Instead, I went to the mystics. To the poets. I grew food on the earth. About a year into that process, I was tossed an incredible additional tool: Human Design.

Human Design didn’t so much give me answers to the questions I was asking… but it did give me maps. And I had all the time and energy in the world to experiment with and explore them.

I held so much secret shame about certain ways I had behaved. The first time I was told about certain gates in my chart, I just sobbed. I hated that someone could know that terrible thing about me, or that that terrible thing existed within me at all. But over time, as I reflected and went deeper, I found my shame and judgment of characteristics turning into deep self-compassion. I looked at my openness and felt really tender about the unknown aspects of the world I was navigating and attempting to learn about. I looked at my definition and saw how grateful I was for those internal resources when used at the right time. Even the controlling or intense ones. And that yes, while I loved perfection… my design was distinctly mortal. Sorry, Blossom. And welcome to the human race.

I held anger and resentment of certain people in my life. As I studied their charts, and how they connected to mine, I realized that they were just being themself (or being their not-self). There really was no one at fault. No blame. It just was.

I looked at the charts of major events in my life (where the planets were at those moments) and was deeply touched and mystified to see the story of what had happened, written out on each day. (You would not believe it if I showed you how the day of my concussion fits in with my Saturn return, and the chart of the person I was in conflict with, and my own life story. It is wild!) “That was always going to happen” something in me realized. It had to happen. It is just part of the story. My story. All is well.

And like that, piece by piece, I began making peace with the life I was in, the movie I was watching, the story as it was unfolding. Like that, the healing began.

When I realized it was time for me to start sharing (teaching) again, I honestly felt some terror. “My open throat!” “My open ego!” “Did my mind just want attention again?” “Ahhh!!” But then I looked back to my design and it was clear to me why my body wanted to teach. This joy I bring to all the things I am exploring. My deep sensitivity to the support of my tribe. This ability to see the patterns that are not right, and an insatiable desire to correct them. Deep dedication and determination to go all the way through an experience for whatever it has to offer. And a demand within myself for integrity and authenticity along the way. My vehicle is here to support and share. So while I really am quite a hermit right now, if you are desiring a greater understanding of or alignment with yourself, there is so much I suddenly have the energy to show you and share!

If my joy, sensitivity, or correction can support you in your experiment or journey through your own life story, it would be my honor. Cause this sure is one wild ride!

——-
Blossom is a 6/2 (Role Model/Hermit) Emotional Generator, IHDS Certified Analyst, and Living Your Design Guide with over 18 years experience in facilitating groups and holding space.

My Design

Would you like to see your own map? You can run your own Human Design chart for free here.

 

My Endless Winter

I still get these quarterly statements from my website. This many visits. This many bounces. This long they stayed.

I’ve started to wonder if they are mistakes. This strangely odd number of people I am told by google that still go to my website each month and stick around to read.

“Read what?” a part of me always asks.

It’s been over two and a half years since I had anything I really wanted to say. Two and a half years!

I keep expecting my audience to vanish. (I’ve made peace with that as well, if you do.)

And yet, here some of you still are. Years into my quietude. Which strangely made me want to say hello.

I was in New York a few weeks ago, dancing something called the Five Rhythms. (It’s good work. It gets me in my body and moving through my emotional landscape without attributing the sticky bits to anything in particular. Physical. Therapy.)

We got to the rhythm of “stillness” and I broke.  Down.  Open.  

(I say that as though it was a singular event. Like it was the first or final breaking of me. Let me be clear, it wasn’t. It was the seventh or seventieth or seven hundredth breaking. Another mysterious and beautiful process I’ve surrendered to.)

I lay on the floor and let my body sob. Celebrating. Watching.

What struck me, in that moment was actually something quite cliche. It was the simplicity of the seasons. The rhythms of life.

That spring is always exciting and bubbling with life, followed by summer that is generally hot and full of intensity.

That winter is always dark. Still. Renewing. Fallow.

In the past few years, I have felt a million times like the winter will quite literally, never end. That it is more like death than renewal. That the story is over when we get to this bit, rather than just a chapter or a page.

And yet… in all the discomfort, the one thing I have been almost mystically clear about, is that I will not force the timing. There is something happening inside me.  That I get to witness. This deep rewriting. This non-optional reboot.  

And so I wait.

But now … here I am dancing. And we get to stillness. To winter. I am laying on a cold wooden floor, in a strange kind of allowance for the bottomless nothing… and out of nowhere I can feel my cells start this buzzing… I can feel the next rhythm. A flowing. An excitement. Holy fucking shit! It is spring!

Not here. Not yet. But coming. “Ahhhhhhhhhhh”

An ocean of sorrow then passion then gratitude sweep through my body, erupting through all my face holes, into a snotty and uncontrollable celebration on the floor. 

That was the breaking. The breaking open.  The breaking through. 

I think that’s called grace.

It turns out that spring follows winter.

Every year.

Every year.

Every year.

It might feel holy to me today, but it is actually just what happens.

It happens whether you trust it will or fight it or dig in your heels. You not in charge of the timing. None of us are.

I have learned so much in this seemingly fallow season of “nothing.”

I have created order in the lifetimes of chaos in my closets and drawers. I have gotten very curious about my defenses and become diligent about observing my own wild moods. I have discovered that place inside me that knows how to make things beautiful. And that other place that gets off on making a mess. I have found I have the ability to sit very still, sometimes for days, if there is something I want to learn. (And man, is there much I have been learning!)

Mostly, I have been unbecoming. Unfashioning the tale that I have to be something to be something. Reclaiming the sovereignty I’ve so happily handed over to others throughout my life.

Being present with what is in front of me today.  

We each get to watch our own beautiful life unfolding. Our own evolution happening. You can throw popcorn at the screen or snuggle up. But the movie still plays.

It’s a messy process, this waking up to our own humanity. Let me rephrase that— mine most certainly is.  

And in truth, I have no idea where it is leading.  If winter is actually over at all, or I just got an early peek at spring.  But I get it now.  The surrender part.  And I am 100% in. 

Which brings me to you my beautiful friend. And to my own little blessing for you today:

That if you you are in spring, may you enjoy the wonder. Bask in the aliveness. Fall in love.

If you are in summer, may you soak up the heat. Play hard. Conquer the world.

But if you are in winter, may you surrender to the deep breathe in. Be still. Let it break you. And cover you up.

Winter resets us. Renews us. Demands that we nourish ourselves. It clears away the noise.

You will open again later. That’s not what I promise, it’s what the earth promises. What the mystery promises. It is what rhythms of forever show. It is what has been promised to me. 

Can you be present with the season pulsing through you? Not as a victim but as a participant?

Even if it’s cold?

I feel you. I love you.

You’ve got this.

I’ve got this.

I will write again in a decade, or a week. We will find out together.  (Of course I hope it’s soon.  I always do.) 

Let the mystery continue!

I’m Not Who I Appear to Be on Facebook

I was deeply disturbed by a Facebook memory that popped up on my feed the other day.

It was a gushing post (of mine) about gratitude… complete with photos of a gaggle of girls smiling…. eating something fabulous, of course.

It included hash tags about laughing and emoji hearts.

I remember that weekend well. But not because of the laughing.

It’s seared in my mind as one of the more painful weekends I can recall.

Several of my closest friendships were disintegrating. My core beliefs about myself and the world were quickly falling apart. I was promoting an event I felt super conflicted about. And every other meal ended up with salty tears doing the major seasoning of my food.

In all that confusion… I appear to have put on a great big smile, added emojis and told a surface level story instead.

Sure, I do love that city. Sure, the food there was great. But I was also miserable on that trip.

I see that post and my heart breaks. For me. For the image I was so carefully defending.

But also for everyone else who saw that post. One more post that perpetuated the bubble of half truths and refrigerator magnet joy, so often seen bouncing around the social media world.

The truth is… I couldn’t have captured the whole story in a post, even if I had wanted to. It was complicated. And messy. And not actually appropriate for mass consumption at that time anyway.

I don’t judge that I put it up.

But it was only, ever, a small part of the truth. I think we need to remember that.

Two people have written on my wall recently that I remind them of a Disney princess.

This is not good.

If I give this impression.

It’s lovely. But it’s just not real.

And thus, I think, it’s worth expounding upon:

The reason I post about my animals so much lately, is not because I think I am an amazing princess animal whisperer.

It’s because the phase I am in right now is so deeply raw and human and tender that I have nothing much else to say.

So I connect to you through the creatures around me. Who happen to be quite cute. And who do indeed bring me joy.

This post is not to invoke sympathy. I’m fine. I’m growing. In many ways, I’m great.

But if I have ever given you the impression my life is perfect…

It’s just not.

It’s full of questions,

and uncertainty,

and sadness.

Full of simplicity, and surrender, and unused drive.

Full of beauty and growing authenticity and the grittiest kind of love.

But slim on answers,

on direction,

And (hallelujah, finally, even) advice.

It was not my intention to turn this phase into having the appearance of a fairytale. I have just required a lot of solitude. A lot of reflection. A lot less sharing. A lot more grace.

I get it can be so easy to scroll through a feed and think you have a sense of who is living the good life. And why.

I suppose I just wanted to remind us all, that a smiling photo, matching family Easter dresses, a trek through Spain, whatever it may be…

All that we share…

… is really only, ever, always,

one part of the truth.

It’s all it can be.

We are complicated.

As you scroll… tread lightly on judging yourself.

My Slightly Scandalous Marriage

Yesterday was my 5 year anniversary.

The other day I put up some slightly sappy sentiments on Facebook about it, which you are more than welcome to read.

But while I’m being sentimental… I have one more thing to say…

Dudes!

Ron is 29 years older than me.

29!

When we met that seemed scandalous to both of us.

Our second date the sweet old lady selling us museum tickets looked up from the counter and asked “is that one student and one senior?”

(Bless her heart.)

I’m not going to lie… there were things about that fact that were complicated. Kids, friends, perceptions.

But a scandal is almost always about what other people think. It’s never about what is true for you.

This life we are in… it is so full of conditioning that we often don’t even see it.

Have kids, settle down, find your passion, make something of yourself, don’t rock the boat, be yourself (the reasoned social media acceptable version of course!)

We start doing those things without even questioning if they are actually part of our path. If they have anything to do with what will make us uniquely filled up.

What do you know?

What works for you?

What would you like to create?

And who would you like to have along for the ride in what ways?

I like Ron. He’s kind of awesome. And uniquely kind. I got my life would be a greater adventure with him in it.

What if it could be that simple?

People will talk. People always talk.

While they talk, why not take a brave step forward with creating that life that is ravishingly yours and wonder full?

Every time I make a choice where that is the criteria… I’m glad I did.

Then just be kind and smart and present… Cause you’ll sort out the rest as you go.

Losing My Love. But Worth It.

I know it’s Mother’s Day.  And this is a sad story.  But it is also a story about being a mom. 

And a love that took me by surprise.  

If there is anything you have ever lost that you loved, I thought you might relate to my yesterday.

See the other night we had a thunderstorm.

I thought “I should go check on the babies.” And then I fell right back asleep. 

In the morning I could not find baby Rumi. Then I saw a hay bale in their fort that had been pushed about 6 inches out from the wall.

Rumi was down in the crack… upside down between the hay bale and the wall.

I can only imagine the babies got scared from the thunder and piled on top of each other (as they do) and Rumi got crammed down in the crack and couldn’t get back up.

I pulled him up and he was still warm, but not breathing. We tried all the things you try. Pumping his heart. A sort of goat CPR.

Panic. Shock. Desperation.

Baby was really truly gone.

And while many of the thoughts rolling through my head include phrases like:

— “I should have…”
— “If I’d only…”
— and “Why this one?”

​​​​​​​
My main question today is actually about love. What do we do with those moments of love that change us? Do we just be grateful for them and let them go? Do we let them haunt us? Do we bathe in them? Learn from them? Hold them lightly?

You see, Rumi was not just one of six little goats.  He was my wise little mystic.  There was no hiding that he was my favorite. Rumi was just pure love.

I slept with him in the hay. Fed him bottles. Nursed him back to health one scary night after he had found and nibbled on a toxic bush.   In a few short weeks he prodded open a very tender part of my heart.

In in turn, he returned to me just peaceful… open… sweet love.

I am so aware that I could do so many things with my sorrow. I could say I don’t want any goats. I could stop loving the other babies. I could say “it’s only a goat” and move on with my day.

Or I can just let that love wash over me. And that sorrow wash over me. And sit quietly in the grateful complicated mess of it all.

We all have loss.  

All day I have gotten messages, incredibly sweet messages, from people who have lost their pets or their children or their spouses.  Notes of beauty and caring and grief. 

We don’t choose what we lose.  But we do participate in how it shapes us.

Do we love less or more? Do we care more or less? Does it break us open or closed?

I don’t know what it is you have lost.  Lost your love? Lost your way? Lost your faith? Lost your parents? Lost your friend? Lost your dreams? 

I wonder…. How will that loss shape your future? Shape your heart? Shape your day? 

Today, I will cry until I’m ready to stop. 

I will celebrate this little goat man who passed too quickly through my life.

I will go plant a field of wildflowers and invite him to stay in my life.  

And then I will wonder who else I can love like that. Tenderly. Bigly.

Rumi, I will miss you so very much. I really am so very sorry you had to go so soon. But I thank you for coming in the first place. It was truly a gift to be your mom.

Happy Mother’s Day to all.  Be it a day of great joy or a day of deep sorrow.  

You are loved.
You are love.
You get to love. 

As the saying goes, you know that “better to have love and lost” one…

It is worth it.

Tenderly,
Blossom

P.S.  Warning: this video is a bit sad, but I was truly captivated by how my dog Milo responded to losing his friend.  If there was any way to bring baby back to life, Milo would have found it. He licked and prodded and whined desperately until the very last moment Rumi was blanketed with earth. What truly incredible creatures.

I Used to Roll my Eyes at All These Things

Once again, it’s been months since I’ve written. I just go through these phases where I can’t.

It’s as if my system is still decompressing from decades of pressure cooking. Of doing and moving and achieving and hustling.

So while I used to be highly motivated to send consistent blogs and memes and social updates… with the exception of those moments when I feel truly inspired… I’ve just let it all take a big exhale.

I’m finding I’m just not willing to force anything anymore. At all.

My requests this year have been:

– To truly see (truth, beauty, who I am, what is).
– To connect with and amplify the voice of my own knowing.
– And to let go of everything that doesn’t serve me.

It wasn’t until I slowed down that I realized the insanity of how I had been running my life. What I thought mattered. Whose beliefs were dictating how I was using my sweet (numbered) days.

I’ve been doing a lot of things lately I’ve spent my life rolling my eyes at. The hippy dippy stuff. Not only meditation but also…

Inner child work. (seriously!?)
Forgiveness stuff (boooooring)
Delving into some really old anger. (Man, do I have some anger!)
Sitting with sadness.
Creating space for the divine.

The thing is, it actually hasn’t been boring or icky at all. It just feels required. Overdue. Life giving. Human.

It purges out of me.

It makes me feel less on a pedestal and separate from everyone and more an actual person, who can create space and be present and care.

Today I woke up and I wanted to write to you.  I wanted to write to you because the deeper I get into my own process, the more think I about you and yours.

It is a strange journey… this being human thing.

And I am continuously grateful to be along for some small portion with YOU

So…

– What is one thing you can do today to nourish yourself?
– What have you labeled “productive” or “unproductive” that maybe isn’t serving you?
– Is there anything you have rolled your eyes at that might actually contribute to you?
– Whose beliefs are dictating your goals or how you spend your time?

Take your shoes off and walk over the frosty grass.

Go hold cats at the humane society for an afternoon.

Make that fresh ginger tea and take a decadent 30 minutes watching the birds while you drink it.

Enjoy whatever phase you are in. The messy one. The revealing one. The charged up conquer the world one.

Allow yourself to fall apart. Or fall together. Or be changed from within.

At least that’s what I’m doing right now.

And it has been alarmingly good.

Much love to you this beautiful day, 
Blossom

P.S. I have 6 baby pygmy fainting goats joining my family next Saturday. I thought you might “need” to see their sweet little faces. Hard to hang out with these little dudes without a smile. 🙂

Reading Rumi & Being

Reading Rumi—

This morning I woke up anxious and deeply sad.

I used to do all sorts of things about that. To change it. Used specific methods to make it go away.

Today I sat with it and watched the snow fall.

Then I went down to my sauna and sat in the dark. A meditation and prayer.

As I settled into an eventual stillness, I picked up Rumi to join me.

Rumi and I laugh a lot. We weep. We sigh. We fill back up.

I thought there was nothing better on a snowy Sunday afternoon than to invite you to tea with Rumi.

May I read to you for a bit?

I love this man.

The Books That Stole My Heart in 2017

Does anyone read anymore? Like actual books? 

I know over the years my own reading had fizzled to almost non-existent. 

In reflecting on my year, one of the things I am most grateful for has been my own rediscovery of those ancient page filled treasures known to some as BOOKS

In 2017, I really started to read.

With my reading this year has come the most incredible mentors, surprising friendships, new ideas, and amazing journeys through time. 

I wanted to give a shout out to the books and authors that have most shaped me this year. Many of them I consider to be dear friends, though most of them I have never met. 

I have divided these lists into categories. Much of my reading this year was dedicated to mystics and contemplative approaches to the universe and truth. There is also a list of authors I most admire as artists, books that have opened my eyes to important topics in the world and a little bit of random categorical gratitude.  

I can’t say these are the best books ever. Or of all time. They are just the particular titles that found me and whispered things I needed to hear at perfect moments. They held me.

See if any of these titles sparkle at you. See if opening any of them might add to your future and your life. 

Mystics & Guides – My greatest teachers of 2017
Rumi – I can meditate deeply… or read Rumi. Same/same. Weeping with beauty.  A Year With Rumi. Dude!
Richard Rohr – (Everything Belongs, Immortal Diamond, Falling Upward… I read like a library by him.) He caught me this year in free fall and said everything I needed to hear.
Paulo Coelho Manuscript in Accra was a wonderful quick surprise.  Beautiful insight about friendship.   
Vernon Howard – Always yells at me when I need it.  And knows stuff. Mystic Path to Cosmic Power = worst book cover and amazing insight!
Thomas Merton (New Seeds of Contemplation) – A new friend who has discovered many things I want to know.
Joel Goldsmith (The Contemplative Life) – also knows stuff
C.S. LewisThe Screwtape Letters are kinda genius! (Very different than reading them in high school.) 
Mother TeresaCome Be My Light shook me.
Pema ChodronThe Pocket Pema fits in my pocket. What’s not to love there? 

Authors That Inspire Me – My New Best Friends
Cheryl Strayed (Tiny Beautiful Things) – I want to write with that much bravery
Bob Goeff (Love Does) – I want to carry his suitcase around the world. 
Elizabeth Gilbert (Big Magic) – My best friend who has never met me.
Rob Bell (Love Wins) – Just love all the things in his brain.  And he has guts.
Shauna Neiquest (Present Over Perfect) – So inspired by how she creates. 
Maya Angelou (Letter to My Daughter) – How have I not read her books until this year?! What!? 
Stephen King (On Writing) – Thanks for writing this book! So good. 
Forest Benedict (Life After Lust) – Congrats bro on your first book! Way to go!
 
Books That Have Most Opened My Eyes About the World
The Shallows by Nicholas Carr – About how the Internet is changing our brain. This booked changed everything about my life. Literally. 
Just Mercy by Bryan Stevensen – Just system. Must read this!
Sapiens, A Brief History of Humankind by Yuval Noah Harari – Every human should have to read this! 
Jesus, Interrupted by Bart D. Ehrman – If you have interest in (or repulsion to) the Bible, check out his books. There are many. Such important and fascinating history. 
The Last Rhinos by Lawrence Anthony – unimaginable connection to animals and a wild adventure!
The Myth of Equality by Ken Wytsma – embarrassed I didn’t know this! My own prejudices explored. Uncomfortably good!

My Personal Spiritual Text Books of 2017
A New New Testament – Such good context & amazing insight into a book I was pretty much over for decades (the Bible). Beautifully done! Many new (old) manuscripts added that didn’t make the original Bible. Super insightful!! 
Christ Returns, Reveals Startling Truth – Perhaps my very favorite book of the year! It’s scrubbed by this Catholic nun in her 80’s who starts channeling Jesus. I LOVE this book! Online for free here.
A Course in Miracles – an old friend I returned to after a decade. Nourishment. 
The Sophia Code – a new friend with beautiful insight from 7 female masters over time.  

Super Inspiring/ Categories of Their Own
Lin-Manuel Miranda‘s Hamilton the Revolution. Beautiful book of the making of Hamilton. Don’t have enough words for this book, these lyrics, this man or this show! If you are an artist, you will love this book!
Beth Moon’s Ancient Trees Portraits of Time – Stunning photography of stunning subjects. Thank you Beth!
Seth Pitt – I just keep gushing about this artist. His paintings brought so much sparkle to my year! 
Seth Godin – awesome daily email blurbs

Best Fiction (I clearly don’t read much fiction) 🙂
Signature of All Things by Elizabeth Gilbert – My favorite heroine of all time!
State of Wonder by Ann Patchett— Just loved!

So many thank yous to all these beautiful, vulnerable, tenacious artists living bravely in the world. 

If reading has left your life, maybe 2018 is a year to wonder about it again? It has been super enriching to add back to mine.

A Room of One’s Own

The unveiling of my darling, impractical, delightful new creation.

A tiny room that makes me unspeakably happy.

A writing/ library room of my own.

There has been something so very life giving for me this year in purging and decluttering and filling the new spaces with things I find truly beautiful.

Things that I love.

The room is my gift from me to me. A creative space of my very own.

Is there a space that you could add to your life this year that would amp up your creativity, your relaxation or simply increase your capacity to breathe?

Or maybe you have a space that you just need to declutter and fill back up with beauty and love so it can nourish you rather than drain you?

There is so much to be said for the objects we surround ourselves with. For the spaces we create and how they make us feel.

May 2018 be a year of beauty and filling up rather than excess and frenzy.

May 2018 be a year of nourishing spaces, from you to you.