​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.

You may already be familiar with mustard seed symbolism, but the story I want to talk about is the Buddhist version. I warn you, it is not a cheery story. However, many people are not feeling very cheery right now heading into holidays that they cannot spend with family so bear with me so we can discuss the moral...

It's a story about a woman named Kisa who grew up in a poor family. She marries a wealthy man but is not accepted by his family until she gives birth to a son. Kisa dotes on this little boy who has brought her acceptance from her in-laws and her world revolves around him. Unfortunately, when the boy was about one-year-old, he became ill and died.  Kisa was devastated and she carried her deceased son on her hip going from door-to-door looking for a miracle that would bring him back to life. The villagers laughed at her; they thought she was crazy. But one man took pity and directed her to the Buddha.

When Kisa asked Buddha for a miracle that would bring her son back to life, Buddha was keen to see that Kisa was a spiritually enlightened woman but, in deep despair, would not be ready to hear his message. So instead, he told her to bring him mustard seeds from a house where there had never been a death. Kisa went everywhere asking people for mustard seeds. Everyone had some but when she asked if anyone had died in the home, she could not find a single family that had not experienced death. She finally understood that death was inevitable and she lay her child to rest in  a nearby cemetery. When she went back to the Buddha she told him it seemed there were more dead than living. She was now ready to hear Buddha's message, which was that death and suffering are part of life. And that life is full of impermanence and change. And, if everything changes, then it is also possible for us to change and find hope.

Change has stuck to us like glue this year. And, with hope, change will also start to take a positive turn. What positivity can you add to your holiday experience? What new traditions? What new perspectives? Maybe we are to finally learn holidays are not about the food and the gifts but the people we want to be with. So we find new ways to be with those people until change occurs again to bring us all back home. If "home is where the heart is" and your loved ones are in your heart as well, could it be they are already with you? I am simply hoping to gift you a new way to look at the holidays this year. Or...at least plant a seed.  

Tomorrow is Halloween. It will be different than years past but, truly, every Halloween is different. I think there will be some discomfort with the change but change is inherently uncomfortable. But, I like that we a re being afforded a chance to change tradition and make it yours:)
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If you know me well, you know I am never far from an Oracle Deck. I bought my daughter an amazing Halloween deck a few years back. Every time she and I pull from that deck, it's message is always right on. I would like to pull a card for you! Email me by midnight Halloween (CST), and I will respond by pulling a card intended for you. You could have a question in mind you want to the card to refer to (you do not have to tell me what that is) or simply ask for a card that would be most beneficial to you right now. Put Halloween Oracle in the subject line so I don't miss it! My email is sandracoyner@yahoo.com.

​Happy Halloween!

I noticed my stapler sitting askew on my desk. I tried to think back to the last time I had even used it. I did chuckle to myself that it would be useful right now in stapling what appears to be the loose ends of my world together. Sometimes, amidst all the chaos, I feel like I cannot breathe or cannot think or cannot possibly fold the laundry one more time- how about you? The problem with the stapler is that it does not discriminate amongst the good and bad before it collectively binds everything. It just gathers the whole lot and, with one smack of the hand, combines them all.
 
I would rather my struggles be in a binder where I can tear them out when I am done with them. Or a paperclip would be good; that would allow me to pull a sheet to freedom , crumple it up if and when I choose and let it go...
 
The stapler is much like authoring each of your days with a pen. A pencil and eraser are so much simpler. Do they still make Erasermate pens? Hah, I remember when those came out! The reason the ink was erasable was because it bonded more lightly to the paper.  But did the ink really completely disappear?  Sometimes, it would smudge. Other times, it did seem the written word had vanished.  Though truly, the missing word was simply the hidden result of friction. The ink was created to allow the color particles to separate when warmed up thereby "disappearing" or becoming clear. Supposedly, and I have never tried this, if the paper reaches a certain cold temperature the words reappear. Where am I heading with this train of thought? Life may simply be easier if we deal with issues as they arise and then peacefully let them go. We cannot erase the past-- people, memories, emotions-- so why try? Let's practice stapling together all of our good. If we release the other as it arises, it seems we may not have to contend with its ability to magically reappear ever again.

I drew an oracle card to write about. I set my intention to draw the card someone needed to hear and I pulled "Trust". The card has a picture of a girl with her eyes closed and her long blond hair flowing behind her. Her arms are open wide and she's leaning forward as if she were about to fall towards her destiny. She is trusting. She is trusting the Universe to take her wherever it is she needs to go. In pulling this card I wonder if you are as trusting and receptive to the idea that we will end up where we are supposed to.

Take a winding river, for example. The riverbanks contain the water giving it freedom to move as slowly or quickly as it chooses. If we were to toss a leaf into the river to watch it be swept away, we do not know where the leaf will end up but the river does. The river always ends up where it is supposed to. It flows freely adapting with rocks in its path, adapting to life.

I want to tell you more about the card. The girl is wearing a green dress, which represents the heart chakra. To trust undeniably, we must listen to and be guided from the heart. Around her waist is a wide purple belt. Purple is a spiritual color. Purple asks us to trust the unseen support around us in the presence of spirit guides, angels,  or beyond. And purple is about listening to your intuition. Again, trusting but this time trusting ourselves. Her wide belt hugs the solar plexus chakra...an energy center that becomes imbalanced when we seek to control. In trusting, there is no control to be had. I wonder if any of this is resonating with you. Are you the person that needed the Trust card? I hope you will pause a moment to close your eyes, throw your arms open wide, and resolve to letting go. When you are able to do just that, allowing peace to embrace you, then you will know you have settled into the hands of Trust.

I titled this blog as such because I looked back at my last post to see a month has gone by already!  How can that be? But in this "new" dynamic of staying close to home and not working, perhaps, in the way we used to, the days have become a blur. How often do you have to stop and think about what day of the week it is? I do...often! For many of us, I think every morning we wake up comes with the utterance, here goes another day. They are all similar with no change yet in sight.
So, I thought this morning, what can we do about that?

There is a Sanskrit mantra, Soham (or you can say it backwards, Hamsa). It means "I am". I am assigning some homework here for those who want to wake up differently each morning. It is not the concept of the day that is important. It is how you and I feel and perceive our day. So, I challenge you upon waking to simply say Soham three times in your head before moving (pronounced so- hummm). Feel the "I am-ness" settle in; the idea that you are amazing and enough the way you are. Encourage this thought to morph into the idea that because you are perfect the way you are, your day can be, too. You have the choice to make the day the way you want it to be and manifest your own happiness.

Let's also attempt to be more in the present moment noticing everything! Look around you and see little things you have forgotten about or not noticed before. Be conscious of the sounds around you and then practice going within and tuning them out. Feel the sun, a breeze, your clothes on your skin...focusing on the smallest of sensations even. Today, I want you to actually taste each bite of your food rather than eat to simply consume. And, notice the smells around you. Instead of begrudging the laundry, add some lavender to it and inhale deeply when you pull it out of the dryer. Focusing on our senses is an easy way to be present.

Let me know in the comment section what you thought of this mantra and what you noticed that you would normally have missed!

         The storm came in the early hours of the morning. I heard her loud voice in the dreamy recesses of my mind. She thundered and shook, and I let my spirit play with the decision of moving towards her or away from her. In moving away from the storm, I would feel protected, yet silenced...riding out her wrath, waiting for the perception of balance to restore itself. I could go towards her shaking my fists-- not mad at her, just mad-- letting it all out. My inner me honoring my truth, being heard. Or is that perception, too? Would I be heard over her loud voice, her tears drowning mine? She is crying for all of humanity, she is crying for earth. Are my tears just for me? Just about me?
            The thunder rolls through again. I decide  to go in towards the quiet, to where I can hear myself think. Though, think is such the wrong word as I am listening to my soul not my mind. Cover me, protect me. I drape a shield over my physical body like an umbrella directing torrents of wind and rain away. Here, I am dry and cocooned.
            The lightning strikes, it blinds my closed eyes into opening and I stand up-- no more, I scream. I run towards her, the storm, and she and I dance caught up in each other's frenzied energy. We laugh, too.  Her tears cleanse me. First, my body washing away years of protective layers. Then, my mind, the cleansing washing away the old. I breathe in all things new and possible. Then, it is my spirit's turn. My spirit dances-laughs, does moves my body cannot do. I watch her; she is fun and light and free.
            I lay on the earth as the last few drops of rain fall over me to hear a quiet I rarely hear. I am so present there is nothing. I have tuned out the birds. I have tuned out the wind. I have tuned it all away to hear the silence of what remains, and it is beautiful. This is what I dreamed.

Faith in mankind has truly been tested these past few months. I keep hoping people will care about others. I keep expecting people to choose kindness and to choose respect for others. I don't know why. That's on me.

I held a Death Cafe meeting tonight. My hope for the human race was once again squelched by a group of young boys who interrupted quite rudely. They were apparently there to talk about penises, not death. I had openly presented the password so that everyone who wanted to come talk about a difficult subject could do so. I had left the meeting password open so people who made the decision last minute to walk through the Death Cafe door could do so at will. I can no longer do that. I left the door open. That's on me.

I had done the same with my yoga classes...offering them to everybody and anybody who wanted to come, free of charge, but thanks to these boys with nothing better to do, I had to spend time putting passwords on my classes. You will have to spend extra time messaging me for the password because of these kids. I never blog or comment on social media when I am angry yet, here I am. (I just deleted a paragraph of ranting you can probably come up with in your head.) The reason I do not is because I recognize my anger is temporary and simply a vampire to my own energy. For the moment, that's also on me.

But, what is not on me is staying silent as my throat chakra demands a voice. I am mad at their parents for not knowing what their kids were up to, which I realize is irrational and mostly not possible, but I am also mad they didn't incorporate manners into their teachings. I am mad at those kids for disrespecting a sacred space that had been created to cover a challenging topic. I am mad people just do not get basic human kindness. And, I am mad at myself for leaving the door open. That won't happen again. And, that's on me.