I find myself wandering in a strange space – like Walter Tevis’ Man Who Fell to Earth, an alien inside the confines of a human body. What began today as a thought experiment, inspired by reading Tara Brach’s chapter on “Coming Home to Our Body”, I feel like I have
So much of our daily lives revolve around cycles: rising eating working studying sleeping. No matter how many years pass, we like to think some intrinsic features of those cycles change. When our oldest daughter started at university, I felt so proud of her. However, I also felt afraid. Our
Last night’s entry was made in the middle of the night, sometime after I crashed from exhaustion, and before I dragged myself up this morning. I love writing in the middle of the night, if I can do it. It used to be easy, but as anything with age, it
I’m late with this entry because I was and am tired. I fell asleep and woke up past midnight, thanks to one of the dogs needing to go outside. Like last night, I feel strangely out of words. In a few hours, I’ll see my counsellor for a one-on-one for
I wonder why it takes so long to feel compassion for the self? This was a difficult weekend in some ways. Sharing grief with a heart friend, and then joy with another, as she opened a yoga centre. I took part in many activities to foster both personal growth and
Movement comes in many forms. Some are apparent on the surface, and others buried in the subconscious. I think I experienced some of both today. I try to think of the words to share what I experienced, but I think I’m still processing. Part of my resolution to allow more
I’ve long known intuitively that walking in nature heals me. I woke late after a morning nap today (on occasion, my body demands further rest after rising, and I’ve learned to listen). I decided to go into the back yard to clean up after our beagles. This is not a
I just returned from a restorative yoga class, and I feel… restored. It had been several weeks since my last class due to the holidays and related chaos. We arrived uncharacteristically early, and I felt anxious as I sat on a bolster, resting against the wall. I had spent a
Some days there are no words, there are just images that flicker in the darkness. However, even in the eddies of gloom there are such brilliant flashes of light and colour. I have to look a little closer, but find myself entranced, following sparks of light. Many fear darkness, and
I have started reading a startling book called “Radical Acceptance” by Tara Brach. Although by its design and layout it seems quite an unassuming volume, I find myself written all over the pages, and from that standpoint, I call it startling. Early in the book, Brach speaks about the “Trance