It’s my job to stay open minded, and believe in the process of releasing. As soon as I start blaming or denying, the process stalls.

Every day I awaken with the challenge to be present in every moment, to stay in my body, grounded in the now.

The power of words has weaved through my life over six decades. Words hurt. Words help. Words are powerful.

I'm recovering from good/bad thinking. My good has been defined by high ideals. Hitting a wall is a wakeup call. Pain is a motivator.

Discerning is a skill I practice every day. I forget to take from what I give and I’m left with a hollowness needing solace.

I've lived my life in fear. I had an inside infrastructure designed to keep me safe. Making a commitment has changed everything and nothing.

As a member of Spiritual Directors’ International, I participated in a Native American Spirituality workshop. The messages were profound.

Last week was full of doctors’ appointments. I don’t like focusing on my body. I’d rather feel and sense life through my heart’s eyes.

I once dug myself into a hole so deep that I had no idea how I would get out. It became my secret. And my burden.

I was committed to suffering. It hurt too much to do anything else. But journaling changed my life.

Slowly I am unwinding from Covid hibernation. My atrophied body improves daily. It's the great turning as our authentic self emerges.

With open arms I welcome Spring with the newness, the color and warmth. Inspiration offers an overall dose of good. So I made a decision.

In my awake times when I am surrounded by responsibilities and timelines day after day, I often feel the weight of life’s challenges.

I'm comfortable living with my core beliefs and behaviors until they don’t work any longer. I bumped up against my awareness this weekend.

I kept having a dream last night, my children suffering. It's so difficult to feel helpless when a loved one suffers. Easier to blame myself

When I'm in the unfamiliar, I disappear. I steady my breath. Today, I step over the threshold into my alignment.

For years I have been telling myself a story that begins on my first birthday when my sister was born with a hole in her heart.

I’ve been thinking about the power of intention as plans come together for a getaway. I set an intention for a commitment ritual for myself.

The friendships never went anywhere and I couldn't understand why. What was it about me? Was something wrong with my personality?

I’ve adapted to the pandemic, masks and distances, living with the uncertainties. Nature is the steady guiding hand.