One of the best ways to quiet the mind is to let go of the intention to have a quiet mind. Focusing on giving permission for the thoughts to emerge can be helpful in quelling the chaos in our head. If we don’t allow space for our thoughts to exist, they can become louder, creating a challenge. After all, what we resist persists. Many hold the expectation that meditation has to be a totally quiet mind, which is often unachievable for even the most advanced practitioners. Focusing on meeting the thoughts with ahimsa, nonjudgmental awareness, can be a helpful starting point.

Fire is a powerful alchemist. In the wild, controlled forest burns help release trapped nutrients in seeds, nourishing the soil through ashes of burned compost. Something seemingly so destructive can ultimately lead to new growth and strength. Many trees have an incredible resistance to fire, even benefiting from it. Returning to a post pandemic world does not have to mean returning to normal, but rather yielding to the ashes of former realities and having the courage to tap into the seeds released in the fire, rising as a phoenix. What is your life calling you to create after the pandemic? This is a question I invite you to consider, and nature might have some guidance for us.

Over the weekend my husband and I filmed four videos. While we were editing them, per usual, we both doubled over in laughter at a few places where I messed up. At times the mess up would be such that I was tempted to dive into a doubt spiral…I should just delete this video and not put it out. The truth is why not put it out there? I am leading with this video because I need this video too.

Writing is soul work. Every person has a story written on their soul, a story to share and to be witnessed. I invite you to explore the curiosity of your craft. The blank page can be a container, a vessel, a holding space for the unfolding of alchemy. The pen and the ink, with patience and practice, can allow for a revealing of the soul, where transformations can occur. Some of my best writing happens when I least expect it. Honoring the call to stillness, the invitation to silence, so something bigger can come through, is an ultimate act of prayer.

Rumi once said, “Show me anger and I will show you hurt. Show me hurt and I will show you love. Peel back the layers if you care.” I think of anger like a pot of stew that’s been cooking all day. If you lean in too close when you open the lid and the steam bursts out, you can get burned. And without letting go of the steam, it’s hard to see what is stewing down below. Venting the steam, or letting out the raw anger, is key to being able to effectively communicate what is bubbling up for us.

Time seems to be slipping through my fingertips every day. Weeks are flying by, and the past year in quarantine feels like a daze. And yet when I sit with a timer for 15-20 min of a silent meditation in the mornings, the time seems to infinitely slow down. I often hear people express a desire for life to just stop or put on pause for a moment. In truth there is no pause; the flow of life is always going. However, we hold the power to set a boundary with that flow, and to invite and actively cultivate a change of pacing. When we choose a different pace, one that is sustainable, and organic, it can seem as if the world is slowing down around us.