In the early morning hour when my awareness is alive I am grateful to remember my practice of silence

These 4 words are the recipe to my day. It’s like approaching a diving board with the intention of diving deep into a pool of water.

We are all searching for ease in life. The purpose of the dark night of the soul is to purge that which no longer serves

My heartbeat seems to have no thoughts or judgments, but it reacts when I feel stress, when I feel love, when I feel loss.

My meditative practice is in my recipe for survival through these tumultuous times.

I am not my story. Sometimes grief consumes me and my day is encumbered with sadness. I remember my tools to help me move through my grief.

My old self would feel lost amid the rocky goings-on with fingers pointing at me if something went wrong.

I have been writing my own book of rules. Not my parents, not my teachers Not my bosses or opiners. My rules – my moments.

When anger is ignored, it’s a fuel that burns uncontrolled. Being creative helps me use my anger fuel.

I never did figure out how to pray like a proper follower of the religion I was brought up in. I had to stop emulating everyone else's ideas

I recognize when I feel overwhelmed and confused, it’s good. My brain struggles with this new concept and it doesn’t know what to do with it

I always find myself in dreams like this when I’m on the cusp of change, feeling bigness before me in an emptiness of waiting

Staying in the moment is the key to managing anxiety and stress. Mindfulness means creating an intention, giving it full attention with...

My stories of pain are no longer there as they may have contributed to who I am but they don’t define me. My altar holds little lights...

The next time you find yourself listening o music that expands your heart, know the cells of your soul are singing with you.

Dwell on human kindness. What does it even mean? How does one do this?

I value our meditation community. I held the space and others showed up to be connected in this challenging time.

Step by step aging is like mirror work With less resistance to acceptance

Music soothes us and connects us in ways we can’t even begin to understand. My mom died at the age of 102, three months shy of her 103rd.

As I make my way through my day, I often find that I’m thinking of people from my past. I don’t mind sharing the here and now.