Creating the World

Autumn.  It's almost here and I cannot wait.  I'm always going on about how important it is to be present -- to enjoy the moment... but this summer cannot end fast enough for me.

Some of my restlessness is the heat.  We live in a pretty rural area and there is not much to do to escape the high temperatures.  Some of my restlessness is my grief, I'm sure.  I want to get on with things and leave this summer behind.  I'm eager to shake off all of the funk and crust and emotions that are no longer serving me... and move forward into the cool, dark half of the year.

It's interesting how autumn, which is really and ending, is also the beginning.  It feels like the right time for starting school, for getting back to the books.  As the days grow shorter, our minds turn inward.  As the nights grow longer, a deeper stillness settles within us.  It's the time of year of introspection and rich, warm soup.

(Funny how this continuum of beginnings and endings seems to be a topic to which I keep returning.  See: What Are the "Two Simple Happenings?")    

We've been easing back into the school-year with half-days and will begin our full schedule September 12th with the full Harvest Moon.  I like working with nature's rhythms like this.  When we're tuned into our natural environment, we're more likely to also notice our changing inner-seasons.  

We're trying on some unit studies this year and our first area of interest is mythology.  I'm calling the lesson block, "Creating the World," and plan to look at cosmogonic myths from around the world and stories that illustrate our shared heritage as human beings.  I have plenty of books on hand and we've checked out quite an assortment from the library --- as well as several audio books and DVDs.  

We'll also look at some historical figures who have overcome hardship and/or helped shape the world as we know it -- people like Marie Curie, John Muir, Rachel Carson, Hellen Keller and Thurgood Marshall -- and explore how real-life heroes resemble the heroes of mythology.  And, of course, we'll explore how each and every one of us is the author of our own story, creating our world each day with the choices that we make. 

After everything my family has been through, I think looking at the hero's journey will help remind us that, while life is full of darkness, it is also full of finding the light. 

Ocean Sunset

"Creation is only the projection into form of that which already exists." - The Bhagavad Gita

Intentions for a Homebirth

Pregnancy to-do lists can go on forever.  I think of things to add faster than I can cross them off!   I'm due May 27th... so, after going over all of the details one last time, I'm putting this list of intentions down and not looking at it again!  Too much thinking makes me crazy.  It's time to just settle into these last few days and be present with whatever energies arise.

I'm so grateful for all of the people and experiences that have brought me to this place in my journey -- for the beautiful shower and blessingway, for the hand-crafted birth-mala, for the heartfelt note-cards, the abundance tree, the gift of a beautiful nursery, for my awesome midwives, and for every supportive word and vibration!   I am so blessed!!  I'm also excited about delivering this baby at home.  I didn't write a birth-plan because I know that plans change and I think it's better to have a "birth-general-idea" than something seen as set in stone.  Still, there are quite a few things that I'd like to remind myself to do or try when labor begins.  Here's what I'm visualizing:

light candles

turn on lavender diffuser

take a shower

call midwives & call or text friends and family

meditate

cut all blessing-way bracelets

fill the pool and bless with essential oils

make bed

put sheets on the co-sleeper

bake baby a birthday cake with big sister and daddy

listen to mantras

walk

use the birth ball

try Marjaryasana/Bitilasana - cat/cow pose

try Kaliasana - goddess/squat pose

talk to baby

breathe & connect with breath

meditate 20 minutes every hour

eat whole grains, almond butter, and drink water

stand on patio under oak trees

repeat mantra, "supported, present, and trusting."

The mantra (above) is the short version of the birth intentions I set last month:

• To know I am supported in every breath by my family and by an amazing network of beautiful and strong mamas. 
• To be fully present, aware, and connected with the magic of each moment
• To release, let go, and trust my body's ability to open and give safe passage to this baby.

My midwives have the most beautiful quotes up on their websites.  Colette's say's, "We have a secret in our culture... it's not that birth is painful. It's that women are strong." Laura Stavoe Harm.  

Laura's says, "There is power that comes to women when they give birth. They don't ask for it, it simply invades them.  Accumulates like clouds on the horizon and passes through, carrying the child with it."  - Sheryl Feldman  

I'm ready to welcome that power.  I've cleared my mind of can't, I'm releasing my fears with the waning moon, and I'm ready to welcome this new life into the world.  I feel supported by friends, family, and the age-old lineage of strong, able women who safely delivered their babies naturally.

What a gift it is to be at the center of the universe creating itself.  What an honor it is to have so much support. 

Just Being Present

Me - 38 weeks

I've been in prenatal la-la land and absent from the blogosphere for quite some time, haven't I?  The months have flown by -- relatively discomfort free... and I'm feeling truly blessed.  

Growing a new life within me turned out to be personal business though... so my writings found their way to a good old fashioned paper journal -- one that I've dedicated to Baby Om.  Big Sister has even taken to decorating the margins and adding her own loving notes for her baby brother.  I'm not sure what it is exactly, but my reflections feel better suited for that journal than the blogging world.

Maybe it's because this pregnancy feels so deeply spiritual.  After all, I'm right at the center of the universe creating itself -- and that is both empowering and humbling.  Throughout my pregnancy I've felt more inclined to simply be present for the experience than to publicly write about it.  I also think it's because we're planning a natural home-birth.  While I am confident in our decision, I haven't felt like debating with the naysayers. 

Big Sister and Mama

So what's been happening on the school front?  For our April mindfulness until, we looked at ACCEPTANCE.  We listened to the rain and learned how our resistance to our experiences often creates more discomfort than the experience itself.  For May, the month or flowers and of mothers, we're revisiting LOVING-KINDNESS.  You can read about last year's unit here.  Loving-kindness is the unconditional love that a mother feels for her child; a friendliness and warmth that reaches out and embraces others.  It's the feeling we experience when we hold our new baby in our arms.  Cultivating loving-kindness means holding ourselves and others this way too.

We wrapped up our formal academic year the first of May and are unschooling now.  While we've loved incorporating Waldorf methods into our routine, we're both relieved to have finished the curriculum and feeling a new surge of expansion and creativity now that the weekly lessons are completed.  I hope we'll be able to hone our unschooling skills this summer and continue with that approach in fall.  Only time will tell.

Until then, I'm due May 27th.  The baby is in a great position, fully engaged, and feels like he could come any minute.  Pregnancy causes us to slow down and take inventory of our lives.  Each breath, each drop of rain, each wildflower is an opportunity to connect more deeply.  Just being present often reveals the everyday blessing that might otherwise go overlooked.  This pregnancy has certainly unveiled the abundance in my life... and I am so very grateful.

I'll try to post again soon.  Many blessings to all.

The Goddess Thing

Recently, while discussing our spiritual paths, a friend of mine admitted that she just didn't get "the goddess thing."  I understand that her path is not my path... and I love and honor our differences.  Still, I'd like to shed a little more light on the subject by sharing a few questions here...

What would happen if, instead of growing up with popular male images of divinity such as these dominating our mental landscape,

we were also given just as many images of divinity that looked like this...

 and this...

 

and this...

 and this...

 and this...

 

Would we see ourselves in the same light? 

What if creation didn't look like this...

but looked like this instead...

How might our consciousness be transformed?

Those patriarchal images take root in our mind.  They effect how we view ourselves, how we treat one another, and how we treat our planet.  When we see that all things are sacred, when we honor both the feminine and the masculine and see that the life in us is the same life that causes trees to grow, the sun to shine, and the earth to spin on her axis, we liberate ourselves from dualistic thinking and become free.

Sue Monk Kidd writes in The Dance of the Dissident Daughter:

"Walking into the sacredness of the female body will cause a woman to "enter into" her body in a new way, be at home in it, honor it, nurture it, listen to it, delight in its sensual music.  She will experience her female flesh as beautiful and holy, as a vessel of the sacred.  She will live from her gut and feet and hands and instincts and not entirely in her head. The bodies of such women, instead of being groomed to some external standard, are penetrated with soul, quickened from the inside."

When this new consciousness takes root within us, we also begin to experience every blade of grass, every drop or dew, as infused with divinity.  Kidd writes:

"Divine feminine imagery opens us up to the notion that the earth is the body of the Divine, and when that happens, the Divine cannot be contained solely in a book, church, dogma, liturgy, theological system, or transcendent spirituality.  The earth is no longer a mere backdrop until we get into heaven, something secondary and expendable.  Matter becomes inspirited; it breathes divinity.  Earth becomes alive and sacred.  And we find ourselves alive in the midst of her and forever altered."

Would we treat Mama Earth differently if we felt that she was a living, sacred, thing?  Would we still spray our strawberries with poison?  Would we still fill our oceans with plastic?  Would we still genetically modify our crops so they were "pestiside ready" or support the corporations who did by buying their products?  Would we still value material wealth over spiritual abundance or wage war against one another?   

Would we treat ourselves differently if we honored the sacred in feminine form?  Would we dance and play and honor our bodies regardless of their shape?  Would staying home with our kids be as valued as pursuing career goals?  Would our little girls grow up believing they were just as strong as their brothers?  Would we see ourselves in a different light?  I certainly think so... and for reasons like these, this mama is loving every minute of her journey into the collective feminine soul.

Cézanne's Apples

Still Life of Apples and Biscuits, Paul Cézanne, 1880-82

Yesterday was Paul Cézanne's birthday.  We've been celebrating since last week with a lesson block on post-impressionism.  We began our studies with, Monet and the Impressionists for Kids by Carol Sabbeth.  This is a clever book with 21 activities for kids.


My goal was to expose A. to a form of art she hadn't seen before and inspire her with Cézanne's apples, Monet's lilies, and the dancers of Degas.  What happened was so much more...

We typically make time for art a few days per week with special projects like watercolor painting or sculpting with homemade play dough.  A. also enjoys drawing and coloring in her Main Lesson Books with beeswax crayons nearly every day to demonstrate her favorite part of a story, something we learned on a nature walk, or a new math concept (such as King Equal distributing jewels to the gnomes).  Until now, however, we haven't formally studied art or given it a regular place in our schedule.

A Sunday on La Grande Jatte, Georges Seurat, 1886

Last week we gave art top billing and sat down every morning with a new project.  We experimented with oil pastels and met five new artists.  A. learned to identify Cézanne's apples (he painted a lot of still-lifes on tipsy tabletops with fruit looking like it might roll right off the table), Monet's lilies (they look a lot like lotus flowers!), Degas' dancers (ballerinas stretching, yawing, twirling but never posing!), Gauguin's girls (Tahitian girls and tropical scenes often outlined in black), and Seurat's dots (he painted with small dots in a style called pointillism).  Yes, I know the "t' is Seurat is silent... but it's so much easier to remember when it rhymes!

Amelie's first still life (inspired by Cézanne)

We also moved piano to our morning session of school -- something else that I typically don't schedule but always encourage.  In the past my thought was to let her come to art and music on her own - especially piano - and not to push it.  She is only six after all.  But this week's change in our schedule really worked wonders.  

Moving the arts to our morning session breathed new life into our routine and fired up my girl's mind and heart so that the afternoon subjects were a breeze.  Studying the arts is not just about learning to paint or play, after all.  The arts, both visual and performing, actually enhance brain development in young children (read about it here).  It's such a shame that they're absent from so many schools today.  I suppose there's no time or money for the arts when we spend it all on test-taking though.

Bedroom at Arles, Vincent Van Gogh, 1888

The highlight of our lesson-block came Tuesday with a trip to San Francisco to see the de Young exhibit, Van Gogh, Gauguin, Cézanne and Beyond: Post-Impressionist Masterpieces from the Musée d’Orsay.  Standing inches from the original works mesmerized us both... and it was here that A. met my favorite artist, Van Gogh.  I thought the star of the exhibit was his Starry Night over the Rhone.  A. preferred his Bedroom at Arles and has since created a little masterpiece of her own bedroom using oil pastels. 

Cézanne is quoted as saying, “The day is coming when a single carrot, freshly observed, will set off a revolution.”  With the arts no longer present in school, who will start the revolution?  Will be become a world devoid of beauty and meaning?  I refuse to imagine that world.... so we're keeping the arts right where they belong -- as the first subject of the day.

This Moment

{this moment} – A weekly ritual.  A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week, inspired by Amanda Soule.  A simple, special, extraordinary moment.  A moment to pause, savor and remember.  If you’re inspired to do the same, join in over at SouleMama.

Music, Math, Mapping, and More

With the holidays behind us, we're getting back into a steady rhythm at home.  We started the morning with a little music.  Like her dad, A. loves composing her own...

Figuring out the notes...

writing them down...

& putting it all together.

Then, instead of hitting the books right away this morning, we went for a little adventure...

   We found a heart shaped hollow in a tree...

... and a heart shaped rock.

We walked by a little stream, smelled pine needles, listened to the sound of the water...

... and built a fairy house.  

When we got home, it was time for some math.  We've been working on what we're calling "doubles."  (2+2, 3+3, 4+4, etc.)  A. has them committed to memory through eleven now -- so I thought I'd try something new.  I gave her some division and multiplication problems based in the knowledge she's already acquired.  I thought maybe since she knows four plus four, she can figure out eight divided by two and four times two.  It worked like a charm all the way through twenty.  

We've also been working on word families and spelling.  Instead of just writing her words again and again (that would be boring!), we have make-believe spelling bees.  I gave her thirty-two words today (some from the Second Grade No Excuse List, others from the Fry's 300 Instant Sight Words, others just easy word family words like rain, train, and plain.)  She only missed two.  I think that really says something about the importance of keeping it fun. 

Where's Mama Wind?

There She is!

Then it was time for some Social Studies.  Last session we learned the four directions using the wind and a naturally dyed silk ribbon streamer that we found on Esty at the Tan Family's amazing shop, Syrendell.

With that knowledge intact, we started a cartography project today inspired by our Oak Meadow first grade curriculum.  A. created a map of her bedroom using the four directions to accurately depict the placement of her furniture and other big objects in her room.  Next week we'll expand her map to include the whole house.  Once she's successfully mapped our home, we'll expand to include the neighborhood, the whole town, the state, the country, and then the world!  

I think this geography lesson also has a deeper meaning.  Home is where all adventures, great and small, begin.  And when our foundation there is solid, there's no limit to where we might go.

Living with Intent

I like having a purpose.  I encourage my little one to declare an intent each morning and enjoy sharing my intents on Intent.com.  Making public declarations helps us live more consciously and bring our aspirations out of our dreams and into reality.  With the year winding down, I've discovered a new intent bubbling up within me.  I thought I'd share it here today.  

My intent is to rise each morning and smile... to be rooted and fluid, steady and secure, transparent, passionate, and balanced... to be accepting of my faults, prepared to get back up again when I fall, and to see everything as my teacher... to have a soft and grateful heart, open and ready to receive the blessings and abundance in my life, to be grounded in my family -- loving them and being loved in return... to know that divinity lives in me as me, and to rest in the awareness that I am enough. 

If you have an intent you'd like support achieving, please feel free to share it here -- or join me at Intent.com.

An Affirmation for Forty

I turned forty this week.  The day sort of crept up on me.  We spent it at home cuddling under warm blankets, noshing on yummy food, playing games, and watching movies.  Hubby even made me cupcakes.

Forty feels good.  It feels solid and steady, grounded, inward, and whole.  Twenty and thirty were outward times -- always trying to get somewhere, ambitious, sometimes blue, often grasping.  The last ten years have been filled with letting go, falling apart, and coming back together again.  

Being pregnant at forty is a curious and beautiful thing.  I'm bringing a new life into this world while giving birth to myself and the next phase of my life.  During the last few weeks I've been releasing fear and instability and, as Thich Nahat Hanh writes in Touching the Earth, bowing down to receive the earth's energy of stability and fearlessness.  I'm turning my focus to images of the sacred feminine, earth goddesses round and full, and practicing seeing myself in Mama Earth herself. 

The preface of the Ksitigarbha Sutra says, "Earth means that which is stable, thick, and has a great capacity for embracing."  This has become an affirmation for me.  It's helping me find my roots -- to open, and soften and feel the stable earth within.  We're planning a natural birth at home and I imagine that these are qualities that will help during labor and delivery.  It seems that once again, life is giving me just what I need to learn.

Trusting Our Inner-Wisdom

Amelie's Sunset Heart

Stepping outside of the mainstream takes courage.  Once you're there, staying there takes both a commitment to your own ideals and trust. But how do we learn to trust our inner-wisdom?  The first step is by paying attention with moment-to moment awareness.

Our decision to homeschool didn't come easy.  We had all of the same questions and doubts that everyone else has.  Can we really do this on our own?  Will she really get the best education we can provide?  How will we create positive socialization?  What about college?

Now that we're doing it, I find that those same questions still arise... but so do their answers.  We began our homeschooling journey in preschool.  A combination of disappointment with the available choices and love for learning together with our little one brought us here.  Now it's four years later and we're two and half months into first grade.  What's keeping us here?  A commitment to paying attention and trusting in the process.

I recently attended a debate for County Superintendent of Schools.  While neither candidate seemed to have the same vision for our schools that I would like to see, one of them possessed a perspective that stood in stark contrast to my own.  In support of standardized testing and basing teacher's wages on their student's performance, she said in a slick voice, "Data makes the invisible visible."  I wholeheartedly disagree. 

What makes the invisible visible is not data but relationships.  No multiple choice examinations or collection of processed figures can replace what the human heart is capable of perceiving.  We don't need more "measurable" results.  We just need to listen more closely to our children. 

If you think back to when your kids were very small, you'll probably remember all of those early milestones -- stacking blocks, sorting objects, gripping crayons, drawing circles, naming shapes and colors... first steps, first words, hopping, skipping, and jumping.  As parents, we're naturally tuned into our children and we see each of these little miracles as they unfold.  Then something happens.  They turn five and we stop trusting ourselves.  We send them off to school and forget that we - more than anyone else - are equipped to understand them. 

Our cat has a debaucherous habit of waking us up in the middle of the night by knocking over anything and everything in his reach.  Last week, he jumped up on Am's dresser and startled her awake.  I actually didn't hear a thing until she came in to tell me about it.   

"I was scared and my heart was beating really fast, mama," she said.  "So I sat up and listened to my breath... and my heart slowed down again!"

If you've been following our blog, you know that mindfulness and breath awareness are essential elements in our core curriculum.  Hearing her say those words was the sweetest little gift -- more measurable than any test result or report card.

Whether you're educating at home or just committed to engaging in your child's education, paying attention moment to moment can help you stay connected to their inner-world.  When we when bring this level of awareness to our parenting, we see the little miracles as they unfold.  Often, the little things we notice are the greatest gifts of all.  They enrich our lives with joy and help us build a strong foundation for trusting our inner-wisdom, trusting the process of parenting, and trusting that life is the best teacher.

Making the Darkness Conscious

On our Nature Table: balancing stones, Wild Child by Lynn Plourde, felted acorns, red manzanita bark, and seeds of awareness

When we see inner and outer realities as a single continuum, the universe becomes a mirror.  This makes life the best teacher.  As such, our eyes have been turned towards nature all month.   

Autumn is the season of restoring balance.  It is a time for letting go and emptying our minds so that we can see with clear eyes.  It's the bittersweet end of the abundance season and the beginning of earth’s decline into the resting season.

The Autumnal Equinox takes place each year about September twenty-third. The name "equinox" is derived from the Latin aequus (equal) and nox (night), because around the equinox, the night and day are approximately equally long.[i] 

This week, as we enter the time of introspection, we can also begin cultivating equanimity.  As Swiss psychologist Carl Jung explained, “One does not become enlightened by imagining figures of light, but by making the darkness conscious.”  To honor the Autumnal Equinox, we'll have a candlelight letting-go ritual this week.  Here's how: 

When unpleasant events arise, write them down.  Become aware of the sensations in your body and the feelings that accompany these situations. Do you raise your shoulders when you feel stress?  Does your stomach tighten when you are angry?  What happens to your breath when you are anxious?  Include these bodily sensations and feelings in your notes.  

Consider drawing pictures of the things in your life you would like to transform.  Examples might be impatience, judgment, negative thinking, or self-doubt.  Encourage younger children to remember a time when they felt upset, frustrated, or saddened.  Then help them identify the cause of their being upset and express it through artwork.  Very young children might express their feelings by experimenting with a variety of colored crayons or by drawing different shapes.

On the evening before the Autumnal Equinox, gather your family together around a candle that you have placed on a large plate.  Ask everyone to bring his or her drawings and words.  Explain the Equinox to your children:

"Twice per year, around March 20 or 21 and September 22 or 23, the sun shines directly on the equator and the length of day and night are nearly equal in all parts of the world.  We call these two days the March Equinox and the September Equinox. They are the two days of the year when the light is equal to the dark.  We have light and dark within us too.  The light in us is the part that brings joy to the whole world.  The dark is the part of us that experiences sorrow.  Equinox is a perfect time for balancing the light and dark within us."

Take turns sharing what you wrote or drew.  Next, consider turning off the lights and saying a verse like, “Tonight we create a balance of darkness and light.  Tonight we make the darkness conscious.”  Then light your candle.  Take turns placing your drawings and words on the plate by the candle, symbolically bringing light to them and releasing them into the fire.  When we use rituals such as this one at home, I say something like, “let us enjoy breathing together.” Then we sit together and cherish the moment.  Before blowing out the candle, consider saying, “Now we go forward with balance.”

Remember that this exercise is also about cultivating wisdom.  Developing awareness of when equanimity is absent helps us learn how to reclaim our balance.  We cannot expect to eliminate the darkness; however, we can bring light to it with our awareness.

This (2010) equinox is also a full moon, so we've been planting intentions all week.  Try sprinkling bird seed in your garden or even on a candle plate like the one shown above.  As you release the seeds, state your intentions with a strong, clear voice. "My intention is to listen deeply and use loving speech," or "My intention is to bring balance into my home." As the moon becomes full, her energy helps bring our intentions forth from the depths of our consciousness into the tangible world of our everyday lives.

[i] http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Equinox

Day Seven {Meditation Challenge}: Our Nature

Mama Cottonwood at Little Beach (one of our favorite trees!)

Like the outside world, our inner-world moves in cycles rising and falling, growing and fading, always transforming and becoming.  When we take time to connect with each turning season, we begin to notice our inner-seasons... and we begin to see that everything is connected.  

For this mindfulness practice, you'll need to pack some paper, colored pencils or some crayons.  Then take a walk with your kids.  Invite them select a tree -- one that speaks to them... one with distinct characteristics that they find appealing.  

Sit beneath this special tree and take a few deep breaths.  Invite your child to notice the different qualities of the tree.  Are they like this tree in any ways?  Stay here and enjoy breathing together (with the tree!) for a few moments.  Consider using this time to discuss how trees create our oxygen.  

Next, ask your child to turn so they can't see the tree and then draw it including as many details as they can remember.  Ask older children to write one or two sentences about what they like about this tree.  An example might be, "I like this tree because it's strong and proud."

Now, have the younger children turn around and discover new things on their tree that they omitted in their drawing.  Invite older kids to re-write their sentences substituting their own name.  So, "I like this tree because it's strong and proud" becomes, "I like Amelie because she is strong and proud." 

By seeing ourselves in nature, we realize that we are connected to all living things -- we see that, by nature, we belong to one another.  If you try this practice with your kids, be sure to come back and tell us about it here.  Much peace to all.

Day Six {Meditation Challenge}: Buddha Moon, Sacred Refuge

Buddha Moon, by Nicole Whitty

After my family was tucked in safely last night, I spent a little time outside under the full moon harvesting rosemary, snapdragons, and marigolds... and soaking up some of that delicious moonlight energy.

I've been listening nonstop to the Tara Mantra by Gabrielle Roth and the Mirrors these days, and as I collected my herbs, the words came easy.  "Om tare tutare ture soha."  In Tibetan Buddhism, this is the mantra of Green Tara.  Om represents Tara's sacred body, speech, and mind. Tare means liberating from all discontent. Tutare means liberating from danger - both external danger and the internal danger of delusions. Ture means liberating from duality.  Soha means "may the meaning of the mantra take root in my mind." (See this Wiki for more info.)

I've been reading that rosemary, snapdragons, and marigolds all have properties of protection.  Once inside, I made two little bundles while repeating the mantra.  I hung one in A.'s window and put the other on the meditation table in my bedroom.  Little rituals like these remind me that my home is a sacred place of refuge. When we practice holding ourselves and others in compassion, our heart becomes a sacred place of refuge too. 

For Day Six of our meditation challenge, try thinking of your heart this way -- as a place of security and compassion.  When you meditate today, sit with dignity and hold yourself with acceptance.  Forgive yourself for anything you're holding onto, picture yourself receiving love from your friends and family, and let that love radiate in your heart.  See your heart as a sacred chamber and go there.  Rest here for a while.  Breathe.  Take refuge.

Here's a quick guided meditation to help you share this practice with your kids.  Begin by having them sit cross-legged on the floor and taking a few normal breaths.  Ask them to feel their breath in their nostrils, then read:

"Imagine sitting between two people who love you.  One might even be an animal!  Feel their love flowing into you and filling up your heart.  You, as much as anyone in the whole world, deserve this love.  This love makes your heart a special place.  You can visit this place anytime you want.  Just close your eyes and breathe.  You are safe and you are loved." 

Be sure to share your experiences with us here.  I love hearing from you and hope your practice is going well.  Much love & light. 

Om Gnomes

Five little gnomes went out one day...

... over the hills and far away.

Mother Gnome said, "Om, Om, Om, Om."

But only four little gnomes came home.

 Four little gnomes went out one day,

Over the hills and far away.

Mother Gnome said,

"Om, Om, Om, Om."

But only three little gnomes cam home.

 

Three little gnomes went out one day,

Over the hills and far away.

Mother Gnome said,

"Om, Om, Om, Om."

But only two little gnomes came home.

Two little gnomes went out one day,

 Over the hills and far away.

Mother Gnome said,

"Om, Om, Om, Om."

But only one little gnome came home.

One little gnome went out one day,

Over the hills and far away.

Mother Gnome said,

"Om, Om, Om, Om."

But no little gnomes came home.

Mother Gnome went out one day, over the hills and far away.  

Mother Gnome said, "Om, Om, Om, Om...."

... and all of Mother Gnome's gnomes came home!

Gnomes by LittleRedWhimsy on Etsy

... a little shop for little people with big imaginations!