As a frequent passenger in my husband’s airplane, I can tell you with certainty (at least to my way of thinking) that an airplane works best when the spinner or nose on the propeller minds its own business—not dipping hither and yon out of curiosity. It’s enough to make a person sick.
Big or small, we don’t like it when other people dip their nose into our business. Similarly, other people don’t like it when we dip our nose into their business.
Hotdog, hothouse, hot tub, hot sauce, and hothead — to name but a few words whose common denominator is “hot.”
On the way home from a trip to Salt Lake City, we stopped at a natural hot spring. I don’t know the exact temperature, but it was far from tepid. In this instance, “hot” was an accurate descriptor. I assure you that I was close to having HOT CROSS BUNS!
While attending a writing retreat in Joshua Tree, California, we took a field trip to enjoy a sound bath at “Integraton” — an unforgettable experience. In addition to a gift shop, multiple hammocks set up for guest naps, and hand-blown glass artwork hanging from the trees, they had other things to capture one’s attention.
In “The Wizard of Oz,” Dorothy Gale’s house is carried by a cyclone from Kansas, over the rainbow, to the magical land of Oz, where it lands on and kills the Wicked Witch of the East who’s wearing Dorothy’s ruby red slippers.
Not a sight you see every day, this was double-take worthy!
While walking along the Boise River Greenbelt, I came upon this dead bird. After burying it beside the riverbank, I continued on my journey and thought about Shirley Hershey Showalter’s post, where she shared this quote:
“I am of the opinion that my life belongs to the community, and as long as I live, it is my privilege to do for it whatever I can. I want to be thoroughly used up when I die, for the harder I work, the more I live. Life is no ‘brief candle’ to me. It is a sort of splendid torch which I have got hold of for a moment, and I want to make it burn as brightly as possible before handing it on to the future generations.” —George Bernard Shaw
This quote describes what I believe and what want for my own life.
I used to feel like time was getting away from me until I started scheduling self-care into my days—yoga, meditation, long walks, reading, etc.—and honoring those commitments like I would with any other appointment.
I’ve always enjoyed pens, pencils, and paper. So it’s no surprise that I use a physical planner (as opposed to the one on my iPhone), and color code it with highlighters and Washi tape. This way, I can see what’s what in a glance.
I happen to love my Passion Planner. It’s an appointment calendar, goal-setting guide, journal, sketchbook, gratitude log, and has personal and work ta-dah lists all in one notebook.
I just returned from the Soulful Prairies Peaceful Retreat in Woodstock, Illinois. This equestrian-intensive location is incredible!
In addition to enjoying time with the horses, we used this window of opportunity to discuss the business of being and living fully.
After our mind-mapping session, we created vision boards to help us close the gap between where we are and where we want to be.
Some of the internal inventory questions we grappled with were: What does it mean to be human? What is peace? What does it mean to BE peace? How do I show up? What is it like to be on the receiving end of me? Is there a difference between being nice and being kind? If yes, what is the difference? Am I nice or kind?
This was the first of many retreats that I’ll host at Soulful Prairies. I hope to see YOU there next year.
During our road trip last week, I made a list of the people, places, things, events, and opportunities in my life that aren’t positive, uplifting, constructive, or healing—that don’t support the best version of me.
I’m currently in the process of weeding them out of my internal and external landscape—of making room in my personal garden for vibrant new growth.
Len, Willa, and I are currently in Big Sky Country—Montana. One of our stops is Redsun Labyrinth, located near the spectacular Bitterroot Mountains outside Victor, Montana.
Labyrinth walking is an ancient practice used by many spiritual traditions for the purpose of centering, contemplation, and prayer.
Contrary to popular belief, a labyrinth isn’t a maze. It has one path to the center and back—that path is a unicursal (meaning one line). A labyrinth doesn’t have blind alleys or dead ends. The path twists and turns back on itself many times before reaching the center. Once the center is reached, there’s only one way back out—the same way one arrives.
A labyrinth symbolizes a journey to a predetermined destination (such as a pilgrimage to a holy site), or the journey through life from birth to death.
A labyrinth walk is done slowly, with deliberate and thoughtful steps. Many times a person begins a labyrinth walk with a prayer or spiritual question to contemplate during their journey to the center.
When the center is reached, the person pauses to reflect, pray, and listen for an answer, or for an even deeper revelation. On the return journey, the person continues to pray and reflect. Most people find labyrinth walking to be a calm and clarifying experience.
Even if the walk isn’t tied to anything spiritual in nature, the slow, intentional walk is a quiet place on a set path with a level of focus that’s hard to come by elsewhere.
Due to travel, I’ve turned comments off this week. If I were here, though, this week’s internal inventory question would be: