I was taught that the only things that are real are those that can be measured by instruments. Nowhere was I taught to sense energy.

I fell in love with poetry. There was one poem that was my favorite. I read it often. I knew it by heart. It popped up a lot in my life.

Life gives us opportunities and some of them appear to be safe and some not. Some decisions lead nowhere and cause me pain.

365 days ago, I made a commitment to myself. Every morning, I would sit in silence. I missed community. So began my Zoom meditation journey.

Years ago, in my old life when I worked as a freelance court reporter on the road, I had a conversation about the meaning of little things.

Yesterday, I walked right up to the edge of a bus I was ready to throw myself under, metaphorically speaking. It was a pattern I recognized.

Surrendering to pain sounded like defeat to me and I wasn’t going to be defeated. I wasn't interested in befriending pain. It was my enemy.

I was on a path where I was receptive and open. When one is in that state, one never knows the form the teacher will take.

by David Stephenson. Winter has a lot in common with COVID, like being in a dark cave. But there’s another side to Winter I want to explore

This good feeling is healing energy bumping up against my nostrils and inviting me to steer this energy towards my heart.

I remember the day I started a support group for parents and caregivers of chronically ill and special needs children. It didn't go well.

I choose acceptance over resistance. I choose to pause and listen rather than assume. I choose full responsibility for my actions.

I struggled for years following meditation rules, trying to do it right so as to reap the benefit others found. But I feared inner monsters.

As you practice silence, be patient with your mind. It is the web that we peer through to see our divine nature.

I've talked about my commitment to serenity. I make it sound so simple. Words are easy to say. But how to truly live by them?

I didn’t have adults around me who took the time to fully listen when I spoke. To this day, I'm sensitive to someone who's half there.

I’m lost today not knowing what to write about. I put myself up on a pedestal and crash. This past week held stunning miracles of the heart.

I was 35 years old the first time I got angry. It took me being in a really safe place. But I was mad. And I let her know it.

On the other side of this pandemic, we will have changed. We'll be sadder, happier, wiser, and stronger. I ask myself three life questions.

My body is a feedback system. I tune in every morning and get today’s forecast. Am I in my body? I feel my body sensations.