I lost my sense of smell somewhere along the path of yesterday. It wasn't something I noticed immediately; it became a question in my mind after I realized a candy cane I was crunching on seemed devoid of peppermint flavor. I shoved my nose in candles and dog treats to test this new discovery to find nothing. I found this discovery more entertaining than disappointing. And I thought about how people always ask, "If you knew you had only one more day to live what would you do differently?" I reframed the question and asked myself, had I known yesterday I would lose my sense of smell, what would I taken a big whiff of? And I truly laughed! The answer was nothing. If we are truly present and engaging with life, both of those answers should be nothing. If I long for a whiff of pizza, that's on me for not being truly present with the last slice I ate. It's January; symbolic of new beginnings. Move on down your path with awareness, presence, and curiosity.

“Your task is not to seek for love, but merely to seek and find all the barriers within yourself that you have built against it.”
― Rumi

As we head into fall, the sun slowly backs away from us, so slowly in hopes we do not notice until the wind's chill brings our focus to the present. The sunflower locks its gaze on the sun and never turns away from the warmth that embraces its face. This flower has the ability from within to continue to turn as the sun moves through the sky so the two never lose sight of each other. Is that the love Rumi speaks of? Basking so openly in the presence of the other without walls? 

Yellow is the color of the solar plexus: the energy center that balances when we relinquish ideas of control and embrace the Self. Assembling barriers to "protect" oneself is a form of control. Knock the sand castle down. Breathe in the September air. Look for semblances of you in each red leaf, in each stored acorn, in each dried up flower. September houses the shortest day of the year so make your moments matter. When you release control, and the barriers your seeking of control allowed you to build, love seeks you.

My Mother's Day present this year from my daughter was a photo shoot of my book with her friend, Jake! I love it!!! So, introducing Jake in photo #1. Be prepared to see him pop up on occasion. Or give him  a shout-out:)

Here's your challenge...
Send me your creative photos with my book in the shot (The Horizon is Here is on Amazon), and for extra bonus points, include a caption for me to post!

I wrapped myself like a cocoon last night, my blankets drawn tight around me. Only my nose sought solace to breathe in the cool area surrounding my cocoon...my shield or my entrapment? A caterpillar stays in his/her cocoon until ready to emerge into a completely different specimen. It is protected from outside elements. What is going on inside, though, is the theme of inactivity versus action. While the cocoon lies still, its body works hard to create change. Perhaps its mind is thinking a mile a minute; perhaps its mind is like a still pond's reflection. 

We all have experiences where our insides are ramped up, speeding along highways only we can traverse. To the outsider, we may appear calm but we feel anything but. For certain, some deep breathing would help . Try breathing in four counts through the nose, holding for seven, and exhaling eight through the mouth. A shield may be helpful as well. Visualize a light surrounding you, or a soft blanket of warm energy, and allow it to create a barrier between you and everything else. And, when you have time to sit still, allow your body and mind to rest inactive while the breath takes over as the action that brings in peace.

The cocoon you place (or visualize) around you represents meditation, wisdom, prayer, and trust...trust that you will emerge with a new idea, or at least a more peaceful presentation, of how to move forward on your path.

I typed in the word "humble" and stumbled across the picture above. It makes me think of so many things that have transpired over the past year. I am first drawn to the monk's mask. In our yoga classes together, we have often talked about the masks we wear, but I was never referring to a tangible and literal mask. What we once scrambled to find a year ago has become mainstream. And our masks can reflect our personalities, our favorite sports teams, our opinions, our favorite colors.

I see the monk's yellow and orange robes, which are common colors but can be interpreted by the chakras they correlate with. The orange connects to the sacral chakra, and its element is water. This energy center is about flowing along with life, and that has definitely been a necessity over the past year. Some of us, at times, may have felt the flow was more like a tsunami and its devastating effects, perhaps, still linger. The yellow is the color of the solar plexus; the center associated with fire and digestion. This year has felt much like putting out fires and, when I think about the digestion aspect, I think about all the people who have gone hungry and still are. I read a news story just this morning about a little girl who broke down in her Zoom classroom because she and her family were starving. I think of her inner strength to say those words aloud and how the majority of us would jump to deliver food immediately and offer help. We often do not know where help is needed until someone voices desperation....

I look at the bowl the monk is holding. The metal reflects that around it and symbolically offers reflection into what has transpired. There are flags in the picture behind the monk and this makes me feel hopeful...let me tell you why. I have been afforded the opportunity to pop into Zoom meetings/classes around the world. In my Death Cafe meetings, I have new friends from Canada, Australia, Costa Rica, England, and all over the United States. As well, my son and I have been playing a geography game called geoguesser and, boy, does it help if you know your flags! So, I think of all the time I have been fortunate enough to spend with my kids. I still wish they were able to be where they want to be, but I am hopeful they eventually will. So we bond and pass the time playing cards, and trivia, and goofy family games that we make up.

Perhaps the most impactful aspect of this picture to me is that I found it on unsplash.com; it is a free stock photo posted by someone named Tenzin Namgyal (thank you!) and anybody can use it. It was just sitting out there in Internet space, it's meaning hidden until someone stumbled upon it. I had typed in the word humble and this picture found me...

​Love yourself enough this month that you try doing something you have an interest in and have always wanted to do. There, I said it; that's the theme of this article and you can stop right there if you want to figure out what that is for you.
     Someone (xoxoxo) recently told me they were taking yoga teacher training at age 70 because they were going to be 70 regardless. I LOVED that statement! If you have been falling upon your age as an excuse in any capacity, this is your reminder to stop. You are not too old for a new hobby, a new career path, a new whatever. We are all pretty good at tossing out excuses like breadcrumbs to the birds. They scatter, landing every which way, and we hope one sticks, because if they didn't, we may have to sit down and consider what truly holds us back.
     I recently discovered a Facebook group about re-painting furniture. It piqued my interest, and I have now painted my bed frame and two nightstands. A small table that I bought from a new charity FB page I found is next in line. So, my monthly assignment for you is to find one new thing to love. Obviously, my "love" theme aligns with February's Valentine's Day. But, don't make that your focus. It is too easy to go out, and buy a heart shaped box of chocolates. Do something  for you....and then (LOL) gift yourself the chocolate as a reward!

​December holidays are coming quickly upon us and, while they can bring a lot of happiness, they can also nurture other feelings like sadness, loneliness, and melancholy. I like the Zen proverb that a snowflake never falls in the wrong place because it is a reminder that there is a reason for everything. Even temporary sadness has within it a reason for harboring your attention. It is our responsibility to ourselves to discover what that reason may be. Is it to rediscover our strengths, remind us of good memories, or inspire us to see what lays beyond this temporary emotion? 

The proverb seems to offer me comfort. Perhaps comfort in knowing that somehow everything will work itself out. That life may not be so elusive and that it is my role to discover all of these happenings. Like the snowflake. The one that lands on my eyelash and causes me to flutter. Or the one that slides down the back of my shirt eliciting a shiver. What would be the lesson in that, you question? Maybe the answer is as simple as being brought back to the present where change is able to create a new path and hope steers our direction.