I am not someone who has a career (I’m a full time mom and wife). It’s always been my dream to have a creative way of helping support my family…. something that’s in spiritual alignment with myself and the greater good of the earth and humanity.

From the time I was a child I’ve wanted to know my calling, so I could know which direction to proceed. I know I have a gift to share with the world in there somewhere. Do you think you could help me find it? I just don’t even know where to begin….

Stephanie, your calling arises from the whole of yourself…from your gifts and talents, your love, your sense of rightness, from that which brings you joy.

Start with a spirit of exploration and curiosity, and look at your life as it is right now. What brings you into that feeling of rightness, of flow and love and joy? When do you feel most fully alive? What challenges you? What returns you to yourself?

You may want to make a list of the things you loved to do when you were a child, and build on that. Often, in childhood, we’re in closer touch with our inner beings, our genius. As grownups, we may find ourselves drifting away from center and then it’s more difficult to know whether what you do arises from love or responsibility or something else altogether.

Next, consider how your gifts and talents, your love and joy, intersect with the needs of the world. What do people need, that links you to them, and that lets you serve in a joyful, heart-full way? What can you offer, that you love to do, that would meet the needs in your world?

These are places to begin to explore what calls to you.

Consider, too, what matters most to you right now, what fits into the flow of your life. If you’ve always wanted to sing opera, and you have young children at home, you may not want to choose a career as an opera singer just yet. But you may choose to pursue that passion in other ways, until the timing is right for a fuller engagement with it.

Set a clear intention, and ask for what you want. Ask the Universe, or the Sacred, or whatever you call that spirit that holds all creation in wholeness, for insight and guidance about your calling. Then pay attention to whatever crosses your path, and consider all of it to be a response to your prayer.

Find ways to step into the flow of your creative genius each day. Through writing, art, dance, song, cooking, gardening, washing the dishes–whatever brings you to a state of presence, love, joy and grace.

Your calling lives in the same realm as these qualities, so invoking and cultivating them will take you to the heart of what you’re here to do.

If you’d like to learn more about sovereignty–what it is, and how to practice it–please join us for Sovereignty Kindergarten. Starting July 14th, we’ll spend six weeks together learning skills to help you discover your inner sovereignty and apply it in your daily life. Early bird discount of $100 until July 7th.

If this post spoke to you, you might like these as well:

• There’s Wholeness in Holes
• Who’s wearing your crown?
• Can you wear your crown when you’re ill or in pain?

What do you suggest when someone is not at all sure of her grounds to assert her sovereignty? Like when the opposing forces are trying to trump her ace with the threat of hellfire and damnation? Maybe she mostly doesn’t believe in these things, but a tiny little bit of her thinks they might be possible, and so she is cowed?

Amna, to develop sovereignty you have to begin by knowing yourself. This means sorting through and clearing out the assumptions and beliefs you’ve inherited from your culture, your family, your religion, schools, media, society. And also sorting through and uncovering your own biases and unexamined points of view.

These assumptions and beliefs are forms of energy.

Once you’ve cleared them, you’re left with your own inner truth, which is the bedrock on which you can build a sustainable life.

Threats of hellfire and damnation are forms of energy intended to frighten you into obeying someone else’s rules, or buying into someone else’s version of reality. Fundamentalism is always prescriptive. It claims to know The Truth, and attempts to define reality for you. It does not honor your soul’s knowing or respect your sovereign right to choose your own path.

If you grew up in an environment that implanted such belief systems in you, the energy of those beliefs is still inside you. It’s not enough to know, intellectually, that they aren’t true. You have to actually remove that energetic implant, and replace it with your soul’s presence. With what your soul knows to be true.

There are a variety of ways to do this. When I’m working individually with clients, I look clairvoyantly at the beliefs and patterns that are embedded in their energy bodies, and use clairvoyant healing techniques to remove them. Then I help them fill up the spaces we’ve cleared out, with their own soul, and with the qualities that their soul brings.

If you’d like to learn more about sovereignty–what it is, and how to practice it–please join us for Sovereignty Kindergarten. Starting July 14th, we’ll spend six weeks together learning skills to help you discover your inner sovereignty and apply it in your daily life. Early bird discount of $100 until July 7th.

If this post spoke to you, you might like these as well:

• Can you wear your crown when you’re ill or in pain?
• There’s Wholeness in Holes
• Who or what calls your name?

Confusing? Sometimes.

Yet learning to dress for emotional weather is an essential skill, both for understanding our selves and for being in right relationship with the world around us.

So why does it sometimes feel like you’re slogging through a rain forest without an umbrella? Why do we spend so much time obsessing about feelings, resisting them, or drowning in them?

Feelings are the language of your body. This is how your body tells you about how it experiences situations in your life, how it responds to the places and people you encounter, the choices you make. Feelings keep you connected with your body, when you listen to them, when you let yourself experience them fully.

All feelings are energy. Energy is vibration–in its natural state, it moves freely. When feelings are stifled or suppressed, or when you cling to them or make up stories in your head about them, you run into problems. (Emotions are feelings with a thought or thoughts attached.)

So let’s explore the world of feelings today.

Which feelings do you allow yourself to feel fully? (Start with the basic four: sad, mad, glad, and scared.)

Which feelings make you cringe? Which ones do you judge or push away?

Which feelings do you cling to? Which ones do you make up stories about?

Playing the Feelings Game

Ground and center yourself. Identify a feeling you’re feeling right now. You may experience it as a sensation, or as a feeling.

Close your eyes, and explore the cavity of your body, as though you were looking down inside it. Take your awareness inside your chest and belly, your back and buttocks, your hips and legs and feet.

Notice where this feeling is located, in your body. What is its texture? Its flavor or color, its density, its shape? Does it feel prickly or cold? Small, hard, lukewarm? Like a jelly bean? Is it sour or dry, juicy or squishy?

Notice the qualities of this feeling, meeting it with curiosity and openness, exploring it as though it were a life-form from another planet. Set aside, for now, your beliefs or stories about it and simply discover it as if for the first time.

All energy–including feeling energy–consists of vibrating particles. And the spaces between those particles are almost entirely empty. Even an atom is an energy eco-system of protons, neutrons and electrons held together by an electromagnetic force within mostly empty space.

Bring your awareness–your soul’s vibration–into the empty spaces inside the feeling in your body. Expand your consciousness into it.

Notice if any part of this feeling isn’t yours. The part that isn’t yours may feel dramatic or hysterical, over-the-top. Or you may experience it as a dullness or numbness–an inability to access your own feeling-vibration.

It may be someone else’s feeling that you’ve absorbed, or a larger energy field of feeling that’s floating around in the world.

Your body and your energy field are your personal space. No-one else belongs here, except by invitation.

Ask the feeling-energy that is not yours to leave right now. Move it all the way out beyond the boundary of your energy field, and release it there. You can also release it down your grounding and into the earth, asking the earth to take care of it.

Then tune in, once again, to the feeling itself. Invite it to move in any way that it wants to. Simply keep your awareness in the empty spaces inside the feeling-energy, and follow the trajectory of its movement with your attention and awareness.

Notice if the feeling wants to move upward or downward or sideways. Diagonally, or in a parabolic arc or in a spiral. Notice if it moves quickly through some areas of your body, if it slows down in other areas.

When the movement feels complete, check to see if there’s any more of that feeling-energy left in any other part of your body. Repeat the process described here.

If the energy gets stuck somewhere, and doesn’t move, breathe into the place where it’s stuck. Bring your consciousness into the empty spaces inside it.

Ask if the energy in this feeling is yours. If there’s any part of it that isn’t yours, move it outside the boundary of your energy field.

If the energy still remains immobile or stuck, talk with it. Ask it to tell you or to show you what it needs in order to flow naturally, to move in whatever way it wants to. Let the flow of the feeling itself dissolve any blocks to its free passage.

Feelings: The Musical

Feelings are like musical notes: each one has a unique tone and frequency to it. You can make more complex, interesting music when you use all of the notes in the musical scale. (Unless you’re Phillip Glass or John Cage, in which case, call me and we’ll talk!)

You’ll have a richer, more creative inner life when you allow yourself to feel the whole range of your feelings fully and freely.

Since feelings are energy, they are fluid; they change. Once you let them flow, and feel them fully–without hanging onto them or chasing them away or running from them–they change to some other form of energy.

So let’s play with the energy of feelings.

We�’ll use the same basic process we used earlier.

* Start by grounding and centering
* Locate the feeling in your body
* Release any part of the feeling that isn’t yours
* Bring your awareness inside the feeling-energy
* Invite it to move and flow
* Notice: where does it flow easily? Where is it constricted or blocked? Allow the energy of the feeling to dissolve blocks to its free flow.

1. Tune into sadness, in your body. Go through the process above, with sadness. Notice what happens to the feeling when you’ve completed all six steps.

Write down what you experienced.

2. Next, tune into anger. Go through the Feelings Game Steps. Once anger is flowing freely, notice how it feels, and how you feel.

Then–in the spirit of exploration and experimentation–stop the flow of anger in your body. Shut it down, suppress it, argue with it or rationalize it–your choice.

Notice how you feel when the flow of anger-energy is interrupted or stopped.

Now invite it to flow again, up through the core of your body and out the top of your head. You may need to strengthen your grounding, to stay present as you do this, particularly with feelings that you don’t ordinarily give yourself permission to feel.

Breathe, release anything you need to let go of, down your grounding.

Drop your head down between your knees. Place the palms of your hands on the floor between your feet. Shake out the excess energy in your head, neck and shoulders.

Then stand up and stretch. Walk around, swing your arms about, jump up and down and yell, if you like. Or sing out loud, or do whatever your body feels like doing right now.

Write down your discoveries.

3. Next, let’s play with fear. Tune into the energy of fear in your body. It may feel nothing like your image of fear—just stay with the actual experience of this energy in your body. Follow the six steps of the feelings game.

4. Now let’s explore joy. Tune in to the energy of joy in your body. Go through the six steps of the feelings game. Any surprises?

5. Here are some other feeling-energies to play with:

Guilt.
Shame.
Enthusiasm.
Trust.
Playfulness.
Purpose.

6. If you feel inspired to explore further, choose from a wide range of feelings. Play with feelings that are easy for you to connect with and ones that are hard. Experiment. Be curious.

………………………………………………………………..

Please join in the conversation in Comments! I’d love to hear your thoughts, insights and discoveries about feelings.

If this post spoke to you, you might like these as well:

• Happy Birthday, Havi’s Playground!
• Laps, Sailboats, Surfboards and Tides…
• Talkity-talk-talk: The Powers and Perils of Communication

Healing Internet Hangover? Slaying the ice-cream dragon? Wha…?

Maybe you’re one of those folks who aren’t susceptible to ice-cream. Or dragons. Or the internet. If so, please click away. You don’t need to read the rest of this post.

For the rest of us, being on the internet can become an ice-cream slide down a slithery slope. Sweetly deadly, in a hundred flavors. Chocolate and chili; persimmon and praline.

It starts out innocently enough. Check email, Twitter, Google stats on your website. Read and comment on your favorite blogs.

Ignore the bitter breath of the ice-cream beast so deliciously cold on the back of your neck.

Or it starts out virtuously: Research for that article, for that blog post, for that presentation that’s due tomorrow. Not ice-cream! Spinach!

Next thing you know, the morning’s been swallowed whole. It’s lunch time. You’ve forgotten to eat. Or pee. Except for that giant bowl of ice-cream. You feel sick.

Your body is wa-a-ay down the-e-re somewhere; your head is swimming in clouds of sugar.

You’ve forgotten what you came here for. Or why you’ve been clicking links for the past hour. You’re a zombie looking for your ice-cream fix.

Your shoulders are hunched, your eyes squinty and glazed. You feel stunned stupid.

And…there goes the rest of the day.

You WANT to write that article, work on your book, create that genius product that’ll change your world.

But the folds of your brain have melted into a chocolate puddle. Any creative ideas you once had have long since slithered away.

You feel guilty, ashamed, weak of will. You swear to do better next time.

You promise yourself: No more ice-cream! At least, not until after dinner. Work first, then a visit to Ice-Cream InternetLand.

You vow to ice-cream in moderation: Just one cone, ten minutes, no more. You set a timer.

Your inner ice-cream freak rebels. Want. Ice-cream. Now!

You get in a fight with yourself. And emerge bowed, bloody, covered in creamy chocolate-chocolate-chip.

Is there another way? (I’ll whisper the answer to this in your ear…come closer…yes!)

Healing Internet Hangover: The Class.

May 12th, 19th, and June 2nd.

Early bird price of $48 ends Saturday.

Slay the ice-cream dragon! Discover your inner sugar-free superhero! Do join us. :-)

You’ll find details and registration here.

I’d love to hear your stories about those Internet Ice-Cream Hangovers. What gets you started down the ice-cream slope? How do you make your way back? What’s the worst ice-cream hangover you’ve ever had?

If this post spoke to you, you might like these as well:

• This business of chakras…
• Pass the ketchup, and hand me my crown…
• Happy Birthday, Havi’s Playground!

I’m moving house again.

And even though the move is still a couple of months away, I’ve begun the process of withdrawing my energy from this place that’s been the home of my heart for the past three years.

My ancestors made the perilous journey across the Arabian Sea from Persia to India nearly 1300 years ago. Something of their peregrine spirit must live in me, because I’ve moved so many times during my life.

First, from India to North America, when I was just 21 years old.

The shadow of that first leave-taking is imprinted in my body. These past few weeks, I’ve dreamed repeatedly of my childhood home. And woken confused by the chitter-chrreee of eagles instead of the caw-caw-caww of crows.

The spirit of transformation is my guiding star.

This means that I choose life at the tideline. Right there, on the shifting shore. Welcoming the incoming waves. Knowing I’ll soon wave goodbye to the outgoing ones.

A rhythm as constant as my breath.

There’s a reassuring constancy to the rhythms of change. And an art to living improvisationally, responding to the tides without being swept away.

Surfers know this in their bodies.

For me, transformation happens most effortlessly, with the least amount of resistance, when I give myself safety, stability and support.

This is not the safety of a battleship or an aircraft carrier. It’s the safety of a sail boat. Or a surfboard. Something small and light and responsive enough to ride the waves without capsizing. Something as fragile as the coracles in which my ancestors sailed east, to India and freedom.

My sail boat is made of sturdy, durable materials. Daily rituals and routines that sustain me.

Lighting a candle each morning to welcome the spirit of my home. Invoking the spirit of grace. Invoking the qualities that add buoyancy to my life.

Paying attention to my feelings.

Eating consciously. Going to bed early.

Choosing presence and nourishment. Choosing connection, soul, heart.

Choosing what I truly love.

These practices are a boat when I’m on the sea. And when I return to shore, they form a lap.

A lap formed by the simple act of sitting cross-legged on the sand.

A lap that is an invitation to be held for a while, in safety and comfort. A lap doesn’t impose or insist–it’s just there, an available and loving support.

The cat or child who visits a lap curls up in it easily, with no thought of “should” or “ought”. The familiar warmth of the lap offers comfort, a place where we’re loved, accepted, restored to our selves.

It is, by its very nature, a temporary resting place, not a permanent dwelling.

When the refuge of the lap has worked its magic, the cat stalks off to chase seagulls across the beach; the child runs out to play in the shallows.

The lap reminds us that we are held; we are loved; we are safe. Visiting a lap restores us to the essential friendliness of our world.

So I’ve been contemplating laps. And turbulent tides. And how I can–simply by sitting with conscious intent–make a lap. Right here on the shore of the restless sea.

A lap for each of you to visit for a while. To restore yourself to your Self, whenever you choose.

How about you? What are some of the ways you make a lap for others? What are the laps that shelter you?

If this post spoke to you, you might like these as well:

• Pattern Makers and Playpens
• Happy Birthday, Havi’s Playground!
• Fee-ee-lings

I’d emerge from these retreats feeling deeply connected to my inner world. Peaceful, quiet, as still as a mountain. Unshakeable. Until I disembarked into the neon wild of JFK airport and my breath became ragged, my heartbeat uneven and jangled by the sight of security guards with guns, by the clamor of lights bouncing off shiny stainless steel surfaces.

I realized then that I needed to find a way to be present, open, loving and peaceful in my daily life.

Back home in Canada, I experimented with ways to keep the gifts of retreat alive in my everyday world of work, friends and play. Sundays were retreat days for me.

I’d follow the rhythm of a silent retreat. Up before dawn. Meditation. Yoga. A light breakfast. More meditation. One-hour sessions of sitting with my mind, with my breath. Followed by mindful walking in my back yard.

Sitting. Walking. Being. No phones, no reading or music, no distractions of any kind. Just me, my body, my mind, my breath. And the vast universe behind my closed eyes.

By the end of the day I’d feel restored to my self. Slip into bed feeling deeply rested. Sink into dreamless sleep. Wake the next morning, ready for my week. Which unfolded with a greater sense of calm well-being because I’d taken the time to return home to myself.

Once I had children, Sundays became family days. I still sat in meditation each morning for an hour or two, but anything more than that was an unimaginable luxury.

Now, my life has come full-circle. My children are grown and off living their lives. My time is my own. And technology has changed the face of retreats, as it has changed so much else.

Next month, Jen Louden–author of The Woman’s Comfort Book, The Life Organizer and several others–is holding a virtual retreat. One you can participate in from home, in your pajamas.

It starts on Friday, February 12th, and continues throughout the weekend, with sessions led by several wonderful teachers. Jen has created and taught retreats for women for over twenty years. She brings her lovely, down-to-earth presence and an array of processes to help each of us settle more deeply into our bodies, into our hearts. Into connection, peace and openness to the truth of our inner being.

I will be teaching a session on Opening to the Sacred, along with my sound-healer friend, Fabeku. Patti Digh, Christina Baldwin and Julie Ann Turner are some of the other wise women who’ll help you get in touch with your creative essence, restore your heart and spirit, and find your true voice.

Won’t you join us? You can take part in as many or as few sessions as you have time for. The cost is $108. You can register here.

The gifts of retreat have never been more necessary. Or more accessible than they are now, thanks to the magic of technology and the world-wide web. I look forward to meeting you there!

If this post spoke to you, you might like these as well:

• Life Unfolding
• Tsunamis In the House of Wholeness
• Pattern Makers and Playpens

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about inner wholeness. What makes us who we are? There are many selves inside me. They encompass every age I’ve ever been, or ever will be. They include my most tender, vulnerable, wounded selves as well as my most powerful, radiant, creative selves, and everything in between. Between them, my selves carry all of my life’s experiences, as well as the experiences of my ancestors, my culture, and my species.

One of my daily practices is to call a circle of selves into my heart and to make room for the necessary conversations between them. These conversations explore different ways of being and belonging. They deepen my commitment to being all of who I am, leaving no part of my self behind.

We don’t attempt to resolve differences so much as articulate them. The truth of each aspect of my inner being, when it’s fully expressed, listened to and respected, brings my disparate selves into harmony with each other. Or at least, holds them in a space of love and safety, where they can be at peace with each other.

Like a family gathering that may start out with loudly stated or silent discontent, but that ends in convivial laughter (and sometimes tears) around the dinner table, these conversations deepen the relationships between my selves.

When every part of myself supports and contributes to the life I’m shaping, that life becomes infinitely richer. Creating it becomes a coherent activity, rather than one in which my selves are pulling in different directions. The result is simplicity, wholeness, ease. From this place, I can contribute to my world by the quality of my being, rather than simply through the things I do.

How about you? Which selves are you most comfortable with? Which ones need your love and attention at this time? What healing conversations await you?

If this post spoke to you, you might like these as well:

• Sunday Poem #6
• There’s Wholeness in Holes
• World-making

Here’s part of what she said about it:

“I keep thinking about failure. And patterns. And lessons. . . I’m trying to figure out where along the lines I am sabotaging myself. Because this is a pattern. Stuff I’ve largely dealt with but certain circumstances (like big exams) can bring back to the surface. . . I get this anxiety and stop thinking . . . my brain literally stops functioning.”

She went on to describe all the helpful, practical things she was doing to shift her pattern. Like taking really good care of herself. And putting everything else aside to focus on her studies.

She asked for suggestions on how to manage her anxiety during the exam. She kindly agreed to let me share her question and my response here on this blog, because we can all use some help in dealing with stressful situations.

Here’s my response to her:

It’s wonderful to hear all the realizations you’ve already had about this pattern you describe, and the very concrete steps you’re taking to shift it.

Lovely that you’re focused on doing what it takes to prepare for this exam, and saying No to everything else until it’s done. Also brilliant that your prep time includes taking loving care of yourself, meeting your anxiety with compassion, and doing the inner and outer work that you have to do.

The energy in the exam room isn’t really set by anyone–there’s no-one actively holding and containing a particular energy field in there. So the strongest energy ends up prevailing, by default. If that is the students’ fear, or the proctors’ judgment, then you and everyone in that exam room will be sitting in a giant pool of scary energy.

You can change this by setting a clear intention for yourself, for the room, and for the exam process itself. Do this ahead of time, in whatever way works for you–through prayer, or ritual, or simply clear intent.

Ask for what you need. Connect with your soul, and with your spiritual allies, and ask for safety, protection, clarity, knowledge, certainty–all the Divine qualities that are yours by virtue of the fact that you are a living expression of the Divine.

Fill yourself with these qualities each day between now and the day of your exam, so that when the time comes, you are fully nourished before you ever set foot in the place.

Once you’re there, take a few minutes to ground and center yourself. Ground and cleanse the energy in the room, and ask your allies to hold and contain that energy field as you write your exam.

I have specific ways that I do this, but you can use whatever works for you. Just know that you are a powerful spiritual being, and that in any situation, the clearest, strongest energy always prevails. So set that energy for yourself, and it will benefit everyone in the room.

It will also help you to attune to the soul of the exam and the proctors, and to ask for their help and support ahead of time. They can be your allies, rather than obstacles on your path.

Then, when you enter that exam room, you will enter a container of blessing and support. One that you have invoked and helped to create. And you yourself will be a blessing and support to everyone there, so that each of you can bring your whole selves into that room.

……………………………………………………………………………………………………………..

You don’t have to wait for a stressful situation to practise these simple ways of taking care of yourself.

When you wake up in the morning, before you get out of bed, take a few moments to review the day ahead.

Set the energy for each interaction, each situation, each thing you want to accomplish that day.

Ask for help. Fill your heart with the qualities you need to fully nourish yourself.

Then take that energy of fullness and nourishment as blessings into your day.

Be a source of blessing.

Kiss the Screaming Meemies, and they’ll blush and kiss you back.

(Many thanks to my brilliant friend Havi Brooks, who suggested this post. :-))

If this post spoke to you, you might like these as well:

• Playing With Time
• Happy Birthday, Havi’s Playground!
• Fee-ee-lings

Woman 1 was petite, with bright, dark eyes, expressive hands and silky blonde hair that she wore clipped back in a pony-tail. Woman 2 was tall and thin. She had a worried smile, angular cheekbones and a small mole on her left cheek.

Their conversation went something like this:

Woman 1: So I said to the stone: Stone, c’mon, turn off that game and give me milk. I need milk. I need cookies. Bret threw a tantrum in the supermarket today. Mindy threw up on my shoes. Don’t you care?

Woman 2: Yeah, you totally deserve milk. You do so much for everyone. You SO deserve milk. (Pause, followed by worried look). So, did he give it to you?

Woman 1: No. He just sat there like . . . like a stone! No milk! How hard could it be to give me milk, after all I’ve done for him? Running around after those kids all day . . . all I need is a little milk. That’s not so much to ask for, is it?

Woman 2: Awww, of course not!

They talked a while longer. They analyzed the stone from every angle.

It’s his mother’s fault—he’s passive-aggressive because she’s so controlling.

Stones are like that–they don’t think of anyone but themselves.

And then: Maybe I should get a babysitter and go to Pilates once in a while. Look at me, my belly still pooches out from when I had Bret. Can’t blame the stone—I’m such a pig.

And so on and so on . . . These two perfectly lovely, vibrant young women bewailing the stone’s hard-heartedness, its lack of generosity, its stubborn silence and failure to communicate. Blaming themselves for getting it wrong, for not being beautiful enough or worthy enough to charm milk from the stone.

Eventually, the women found the book they were looking for, and then they drifted off into the Self-Help aisle.

I drove home, sat in the sunshine on my deck and thought about their conversation. And began writing about it in this post.

Okay, so she didn’t really say the stone. Or milk.

She said Brian. And a bunch of other stuff that Brian wasn’t giving her that she needed and SO deserved. Except maybe she didn’t ‘cause she hadn’t lost her baby-weight and her house was a mess and so maybe it wasn’t his fault.

Sounds ridiculous, doesn’t it? Everyone knows a stone can’t give you milk. It’s not in its nature.

It doesn’t matter if you badger it, whine at it, try to seduce it or get down on your knees and pray to it—it still can’t give you what it doesn’t have.

If you keep banging your head against the stone to try and get it to give you milk, you’ll end up with a headache and bruises and not much else.

And yet, this is what we do each day. We look to the people in our lives—or to our work, or our hobbies, or our bank balances—to give us what we so desperately need.

A sense of who we are. Love. Connection. Appreciation. Security. Permission to be ourselves. Forgiveness for our shortcomings.

And when the Stones in our lives can’t give us what we want, we’re broken-hearted. Bewildered.

Meanwhile, the light of the Sacred lives in our hearts, silently offering us everything we need.

Love. Safety. Connection. Appreciation. Reminders of our wholeness and our radiance.

All we have to do is take our attention off of that stone, and turn around to receive what’s being given to us from the Source of all nourishment.

That glass of milk? It’s yours for the asking.

If this post spoke to you, you might like these as well:

• Who’s wearing your crown?
• Can you wear your crown when you’re ill or in pain?
• What I learned about the healing power of memory from a song and dance routine at my local theater. . .

When you’re creative, dedicated, and in business for yourself, it’s easy to get painfully busy.

You work in and on your business, harder than you’ve ever worked at any job. And there are a million tasks that need your time and attention.

By the end of the day you’re exhausted. You fall into bed with your mind still churning in high gear.

If you keep this up, both you and your business will end up in a puddle and a muddle.

You’ll spend more time getting less done. Your enthusiasm, creativity and love for your work . . . you’ll wonder where they went.

You can’t draw water from an empty well.

So how do you replenish yourself? You can’t expect your garden or your business to grow without nourishment.

Taking care of yourself doesn’t have to cost lots of time or money. Simple actions can be deeply nourishing.

Here are some that work for me: Taking a slow walk in warm sunshine. Or closing my eyes for a moment and listening to the birds’ mad spring chorus. Savoring the cool sweetness of a glass of water. Looking out to the horizon—restoring perspective.

Small moments of presence and attention nourish me. Connect me with my world, my body, and my heart.

Your heart is your home–your resting place. It’s where you come to restore and renew yourself.

Here’s a simple practice that I do several times a day, whenever I feel scattered or disconnected from my heart. You may find it helpful too.

I start by sitting down quietly where I won’t be disturbed. (I’ve also done this while walking, or lying down.)

Close your eyes for a moment. Take a few deep, cleansing breaths, all the way down into your belly and back out again.

Feel your physical body—the weight of it resting on your chair or on the ground. Your breath whooshing in and out.

Check in with your emotions. Make room for whatever you’re feeling, without hanging on, or pushing the feelings away.

Say a kind hello to your thoughts.

Then bow your head a little, towards your heart—this quiets any mind-chatter.

Drop your awareness into the center of your heart. Like dropping a pebble into a deep pool of water.

If you like, you can spread your hand, palm-down, across the middle of your chest to help you get in touch with your heart. Then bring your awareness beneath your hand, into the center of your chest.

Breathe quietly into and out of your heart. Not straining or trying; just being there.

Gently,  go deeper inside your heart.

This is always an exploration, for me.

Often, I find myself walking through layers of my heart, as if through a series of rooms that open into each other. Going deeper into my heart with each room.

The first room feels like my living room. It’s where people and places I care about come and hang out with me, and with each other. It’s warm, inviting, and fun, most of the time. Although it can be noisy, crowded and overwhelming, sometimes.

The next room in is more private. This is where I get to be with my heart’s beloveds—those whom I love and cherish most dearly. This is also where I connect with the soul of my business, and with spiritual friends, like the soul of the earth.

The next room—still going deeper in—is my conference room. Actually, it’s more like a campfire on the beach, or a cozy room with a fireplace and comfy couches, cushions and armchairs.

This is where I get together with all my various selves . . . the shy little kid, the adventurer, the writer, the healer, the grouch, the ‘fraidy cat, the intrepid explorer.

This gathering can be as noisy and raucous as a family reunion. Here’s where I get to talk with all the different parts of my self. Where they have a place to be heard, to argue, to find common ground.

And then I walk into the innermost chamber of my heart.

This is my most sacred place. Where I meet with my Creator alone.

When I enter in here, I close the door and turn away from the outside world. I leave all the other rooms and the people in them behind. And I turn to my Source, my Beloved.

Here, I say what’s truly going on for me, in a very simple way. Or I just say a wordless: Here I am, Beloved.

I ask for what I need. Clarity; guidance; safety; love; sustenance; nourishment.

And I feel those qualities flowing into the open cup of my heart. As they flow in, they cleanse and wash away anything that impedes their flow.

My heart fills up. It stretches and deepens to hold more, to contain more. I feel deeply rested. Nourished.

When my heart is full, I give thanks, and begin my return to the outside world. Walking back through the rooms in reverse order, this time.

Often, a conference of selves that I’d last seen squabbling and bickering, or yelling at each other, will have miraculously transformed into close friends by the time I get back to my conference room.

I return from the innermost chamber of my heart with gifts of grace.

This journey into my heart can be a brief touching-base, or a deeper leaning into my Source. Either way, its effects linger, and build on each other.

My life and my business become infused with spaciousness, love, and connection. And I’m happy again.

I’d love to hear your story. How do you replenish yourself? Who or what nourishes you?

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