Being With: Reflections on 9/11 and Sandy Hook


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What I am going to share here is based solely on my experience – what I’ve experienced personally. As we come to the 2nd anniversary of Sandy Hook (tomorrow, December 14th, 2014) I’ve felt a strong urge to write this. These are my reflections.


As many of you know,

I worked with people directly affected by 9/11 for over three years, from ’03 – ’06. In the first year or so, I coached a large number of family members who’d lost love ones in 9/11 as part of a larger program they were taking, which comes out of the same core program I teach. Then, during the second year, I taught a couple of those courses and continued to coach.

Following these courses, I was hired to design and teach a dating relationship class to women who’d lost their spouses/partners in 9/11. Over eighteen months, along with my colleague Julie (yes, two Julie’s teaching together), I had the truly lovely experience of working with these women to discover a way to bring a new loving partner into their lives while also still grieving their loss. It is not true that we have to put our grief away in order to date again. We can find a partner who is willing to enter into a relationship with us even if we have experienced major loss.

Over the time I worked with these many family members, I found we as Americans to be supportive and truly desiring for there to be healing for these families. In fact, there was so much public attention around 9/11, many of these family members had a hard time finding a way to grieve privately – something we all need when going through the grief of traumatic events. We need our privacy, while also needing to know we are part of a larger community that is holding us firmly in love and respect.

During these years, 9/11 was still very much in the news, not only news of the American response to the attack, but also news about the family members and things they were beginning to do in the world.

When I would speak about my work with people in general, people engaged in conversation with me about it. There was a willingness to talk about it. It had affected all of us in a profound way.

This past Winter and Spring, along with two other women, I had the incredible opportunity to teach the same course again, but this time to people directly affected by the tragedy at Sandy Hook School, in Newtown, Connecticut. It was the first time the course would be offered, and I was asked to join-on because of my experience in teaching this material to so many diverse populations over the past twelve years. I won’t share anything about the experience of teaching there. It is too private, too personal, and requires a great deal of respect and confidentiality.

What I want to speak to is the difference in how I experienced our response to this event as Americans compared to our response to 9/11. It feels vitally important to do so.

I remember when I first heard about Sandy Hook. I was preparing to be on a Mastermind group call. We all got on the phone together, but I couldn’t continue. I almost couldn’t speak at all, the shock was so great. I excused myself from the call and sat down and sobbed. The shock and grief hit me hard, like I know it did for many Americans and many others around the world. What happened at Sandy Hook was something horrendous – so many very young children being killed in such a violent way. Still to this day, it is hard to truly think about what happened with full consciousness. I can only imagine it, based on what I have heard and read.

So as I prepared to teach, I began to really sit with the whole experience, not only what happened that day, but how we as Americans had dealt with it since that day. I first knew I would be teaching prior to the 1st Anniversary of Dec. 14th, 2012. I began to watch how we as a country spoke about this event. I noticed, especially as I mentioned to others I would be teaching, a marked difference in the responses to Sandy Hook versus the responses to 9/11.

I’m not here to compare them as better or worse. But I want to talk about how they were, and continue to be, different. I’ve thought a lot about why they would be different, based on my own experiences and reflections. Obviously, in many ways, 9/11 was a much larger event. More people were killed in 9/11. And, our largest city was affected not only by the deaths, but also by many injuries and fallout from the towers falling, as well as the ongoing fallout from illnesses and trauma. I understand this. I am not comparing the two events on scale. I am comparing them because they are two events I’ve been involved with on some level, and because I’ve noticed things simply from my own perspective as an American and as a human being trying to make sense of how we continue to turn our hearts away from the level of violence we experience here in our country.

In 9/11, the perpetrators were from the outside. They weren’t ‘one of us’, which made a clear distinction where to put our care and attention – on those affected by the attack. We could do this because those affected could be marked distinctly from those who were responsible for the attack. The event was horrendous, yes, and we drew a clear line of distinction between who was ‘bad’ and who was ‘good’.

With Sandy Hook, though, the person responsible was not only one of us, an American, he was from the community of Newtown. Suddenly, this dark, horrendous event was not outside of American soil, it was right here in our backyard, right here in our own culture, right here in our own family.

In 9/11, we could focus our anger and outrage on ‘others’, but with Sandy Hook we could not. There was no other. There was a barely-adult boy who was one of our own.

I noticed how people responded differently to me when I would speak of the work with 9/11 families versus the work in Newtown. Our faces tell a great deal.

But what I truly noticed was how quiet our country has been about the entire event. For the first few weeks, we heard a lot about it. Then, we went quiet. At first there was great outrage, then there was little. I know not everyone has been quiet. There are mom’s groups working to dismantle the power that gun lobbies have, as well as the many groups that have helped to bring healing to Newtown, one of which was the center that hired us to teach. But the media and our politicians, as well as most Americans do not talk about it. I think this points to something important, not only collectively but individually.

When we can point the finger at someone else, it is much easier to be actively vocal about things. We can look at them and ‘other’ them so that we create a firm separation of us vs. them.

But, when we have to look at ourselves, it becomes much harder to accept. Whether it is our country collectively, or ourselves individually, to do the deeper work means we must come to look within ourselves, and within our own culture. This is where many of us tend to shut down, because we don’t want to see what we are capable of. We don’t want to see the darkness that lurks right underneath our noses. We’d rather ‘other’ each other, believing it will solve our problems if we just grow more armor, more separate, ‘securing’ ourselves behind beliefs that somehow separation from each other will keep us safe from some imagined possible transgression in the future, or from a past hurt we’ve never been able to truly look at.

I never spoke about this with anyone during my stays in Newtown. That wasn’t why I was there. But, it’s been on my mind for a year, and in my heart. There is a very important learning here for us – very important. Every situation, every person, can be a teacher if we are willing to learn.

And, it’s not just what happened at Sandy Hook. It’s happening over and over and over here in our own country. Whether it is one of the multiple school shootings since Sandy Hook, or the recent events in Ferguson, NY, and Cleveland, or any of the other violent events in our country, we must begin to talk about what is here right in our own backyard. We must begin to talk about how we treat each other, and in turn how we defend ourselves so aggressively against each other. And, we must talk about shame and silence.

The healing we can offer each other is great. It is powerful. And it is needed. But it won’t happen if we can’t talk about it, if we can’t see that what is ‘out there’ is also right here in our own backyard; if we can’t see that everything outside of us in others is right here within ourselves.

I believe with Sandy Hook we felt fear, but more importantly we feel shame and guilt. It’s like a cover of silence descends over the event, a shutting down, a turning away.

Shame is a nasty beast. It causes us to go silent. It causes us to defend. It causes us to separate. It causes us to shut down, to lash out, to vow never to trust. I know. I’ve done a lot of personal work with shame, as have many of you. Guilt does the same things.

The funny thing about shame and guilt is that we go unconscious. For the most part, we don’t even know we’ve gone unconscious. We don’t realize how we’ve not talked about, nor faced on a deeper level, that which has caused us to feel shame, guilt, or fear or whatever else we might be feeling.

Think about it. How hard is it for you to think about Sandy Hook and what happened there? And how might that difficulty be affecting not only those affected by the event, but also your personal ability to heal as well as our collective healing?

And, when we won’t look at something, what are we making more important than creating a culture safe for our children, a culture of peace?

Is our fear of discomfort in facing what feels like a mountain of things we don’t want to see or feel keeping us from being who we need to be to create this change?

What are we valuing over life itself?

What matters is that we need each other. Life isn’t easy. We are vulnerable as human beings.

I know, after working with so many people over these years, that we heal, we create much healthier families and communities, when we open to each other and ask for help and give help. When the larger community we are a part of acknowledges it has our back, that it knows we’ve suffered and that it is here for us, we feel held and can heal. We are reminded we are not alone. Whether this larger community is our own family, our friends, our town, the country in which we live, or our global family, it is the same. And in this way, the larger community heals, because when we offer ourselves to others we heal, too. We grow, too. We transform into more compassionate and kinder people, and a more compassionate, kinder nation.

To do this we must stop and be present to what we’ve created as a society. Together.

When will we be with the hard and difficult feelings?

When will we begin to ask the hard questions that can lead to transforming the culture in which we live? 

When will we be with each other?

The time to create community to face these things is now. It is too much to bear alone. That’s why we have each other. We cannot do it alone.







Money: A Love Story



Money: A Love Story. A brand new book by Kate Northrup.

I’m happy to offer this review of Kate’s book, something I rarely say yes to. It’s not what my blog is about…for the most part. But when I was asked to review it, something inside me tugged at me telling me there was something deeper here for not only me personally, but for you, the beautiful women and men who want to read what I share here. So, I said, Yes.

Money was one of the most painful areas of my life growing up.

I still am working on healing the underlying issues around money. Money itself is just a placeholder for value…and what we learn when we are young around value, worth, and love, of ourselves, others, and things, gets projected onto those pieces of paper. Poor money. It’s really weighed down with so much stuff… confusion, pain, and shadow…all of the usual suspects.

I received the book about two weeks ago, and to be entirely honest, I have thoroughly, and thoughtfully, read the words and completed the exercises through page 60, and that’s out of around 200 pages.

Kate’s book has delightfully struck a deep chord within me.

I had hoped to have it read all the way through, and to have done all the exercises within these two weeks, but my relationship with money feels like the crazy tangle of freeway overpasses that guide drivers through the maze that is Los Angeles’ freeway system. And, as Kate states in her book, don’t bypass the exercises. In fact she notes that it might take a full year to really move through whatever the book surfaces.

So, I decided to share with you exactly why I am wiling to do that with her book.


Here’s the thing about Kate’s book, Money: A Love Story.

There is something in her book that speaks to me on a level other than words. I have a sense it is her transmission, those unseen but deeply felt qualities you experience when you read another’s words or listen to them voiced.

The book is light. Her tone is welcoming. As I experience it, there’s a feeling of being loved and supported.

What comes through so clearly is Kate’s unwavering confidence in both her own wisdom and in the possibility that I can do this, that my relationship to money CAN be transformed into one of love.

Perhaps part of this is that I am ready to take this journey with money. Perhaps it is partly that I respond well to a container that deeply holds me in love and confidence. Perhaps there are many reasons I don’t even yet know for why I feel so positive and open about Kate’s book.


Money & Self-Worth

I know my money story is deeply tied up with my own sense of self-worth. I’ve come a long, long way in how I feel about myself, and I sense that’s why I am ready for this.

None of this work around money and self-worth is easy for any of us. But, together, in a container of love, we can heal.

A couple of things I’ve come away with already that have allowed me to access deeper feelings.

In the first handful of pages, Kate shares something she learned from Nicole Daedone. Kate suggests looking back at your whole story, your life story, finding a way to “fall in love with your story”. She goes on to write, “be grateful for it”. And, she mentions seeing yourself as the heroine of your story. When I read these words, I cried. It’s not like I’ve never heard these words before. But, for whatever reason, as I read them from Kate, I suddenly felt everything in me relax as I saw how truly accepting the entirety of my life brought an immediate sense of peace. And then, I could see how strong I’ve been in my life in my ability to respond to a great deal of adversity. Loving my story allowed me to not be at odds with it anymore. It allowed be to have nothing to fight against any more. Yes, so much of the work I’ve done prior to this has probably helped. Yet, I wonder if that’s so. Is there a place where we can simply just accept. After all, the reality is that our lives are what our lives have been. Without the extra stories we lay on it, our life story is our life story.

Through this doorway we can set it all down, so we can be here, now, in this moment, living and breathing in a place of wholeness rather than fracturedness around money, and worth, and love.

The other suggestion she offered was to see what our whole life story has taught us. I could see how incredibly resilient I am. I could see how strong and committed I am. And, I could see how incredibly I persevere in my life. I have these great skills, and sit’s because of the events of my life that I have learned to be so (and maybe I came in with just a tad bit of strength, too!).

I have done a lot of work in my life to heal, and I’ve healed so much within me. The work I do here at Unabashedly Female is a testimony to that. I know we women have learned to devalue ourselves and how the sacred feminine moves through us. The feminine has been denigrated. And, now, in some ways, the masculine is being denigrated as well.

All of us suffer because of this denigration of life, and our stories around money mirror this. If money is simply an exchange of value between people, how we value ourselves and others holds the key to a healthy loving relationship with money.

There are many, many messages, and messengers, out here reflecting back to us how it is time for the money story of humanity to be healed. Deep in our hearts, we are generous compassionate creatures. This I know.



Woman’s Song



On my unexpected walk yesterday morning (car battery died and I walked home from the mechanic), I was suddenly moved by an insight. Unexpected circumstances can do that…bring insights. These times can be our most creative moments, because we’re taken out of our normal routine, which can wake us up to the newness we are always really living in.

The insight? That it’s not so much what we speak as women, but that we speak…that we liberate the female soul’s song.

The feminine was silenced. Our mothers were silenced, as were their mothers, and their mothers, and so on. And, we are continually encouraged to (many times through shame, shunning, threat, and humiliation) stay silent.

I know I silence myself. I learned to do this at a very young age. I watched what was going on, listened to what was expected of me, and learned to manipulate my behavior accordingly. I know others who did the opposite – pushed back with every fiber against being silenced. Pushing back, though, is still a kind of silencing, because being completely free means you simply speak what is true and many times when we push back, we are more caught up in the conflict than being free to simply express what is within. Not always, but many times.

Unlearning silencing isn’t such an easy task. Patterns of silencing are insidious. The patterns are within our psyches. They are in the culture. Everyday on the internet, you can read something powerful posted by a woman who is speaking her mind. And, you don’t have to look far to see the comments that immediately surface attempting to silence her through intimidation and threats of violence and harm.

I believed that silence would keep me safe. When I learned to do it, it did. But silence keeps none of us safe, and in these times we are living, silence keeps us from creating something new in our world that is life-affirming and fueled by the deepest love that is life expressing itself anew in each moment.

This insight was really beautiful…and simple.

I can see that it really doesn’t matter the form we say things in, but that what we say must be true in our hearts, to our souls.

We don’t have to come up with something amazingly wise and transformational. What I see is that the very act of speaking will heal. Speaking the truth in our everyday lives will heal. It opens the channel, and when the channel is open creativity begins to pour forth…a creativity that is rooted in the sacred creativity that women embody. It is this sacred creativity within our beings that is birthing the new consciousness. Speaking opens the channel. It reconnects our awareness with what is true deep within. Speaking can be a metaphor here, yet I also can see that vocalizing, the act of making sound through the body is incredibly powerful.

Speaking begins to end the silencing that has happened to the feminine, and to women. The act of speaking opens channels in the body and soul.

Hearing one’s own voice saying words that have been swallowed too many times to count reawakens a knowing of self that is necessary for healing.

Speaking truth in everyday life is an extremely powerful act…powerful and healing.

In working with women, and in my own experience, I’ve come to see that we can get caught up in the belief that we have to come up with wise words, and even more have to put them into some ‘form’ like a blog, or a book, or a speaking engagement, or you name it. But the insight showed that it is much more simple than what we think.

Imagine millions of women around the world, women who have the freedom to do so, speaking the truth to ourselves, to our families, our lovers, our co-workers, our bosses. Speaking for ourselves and on behalf of those who can’t, who aren’t free to do so.

Hearing our own voice with our own ears. It’s a reclamation of the power that lies within to give voice to the soul.

I don’t know the esoteric details of what happens when a woman speaks truth aloud, but I can see something shifts. When a woman listens to what is happening and feels for resonance and responds with truth, responds in a way that honors life, not only within herself but within all of life, silence is broken, healing happens, and something new is born.


We can support and encourage each other to do this.

What if each of us actively reached out to three other women we know and asked them to speak aloud the words that have been swallowed back down over and over and over?

What if we reached out and invited them to tell us their truth?

What if we saw this opportunity to hear, really hear, another woman’s truth as a sacred act and we listened accordingly?

Will you do this?

Will you offer this gift of inviting out woman’s song?


A good place to begin is with yourself, to hear your own words with your own ears, and to feel them rise up out of your body into the light of day. Really listen for the words to be spoken. Listen then speak. Keep speaking because sometimes those words take a while to reach. Feel the words rise and move and flow as they are offered up.

This IS a sacred act.


John O’Donohue wrote, “All holiness is about learning to hear the voice of your own soul. 


Doing so calls back a power that was buried when we went silent.

Doing so reconnects you with you.

Doing so liberates woman’s song.



Image is white ribbons on Flickr under Creative Commons 2.0


The Dawning of a New World, An Age of Understanding



Dawning of the Age of Aquarius


This past Saturday, together with over sixty other dancers for the solstice. We danced and meditated, one following the other, throughout most of the day. Late in the afternoon, when we were dancing deep in the rhythm of chaos, the teacher played “The Age of Aquarius”, from the soundtrack of Hair. As soon as I heard the opening refrain and the words,

“When the Moon enters the seventh house and Jupiter aligns with Mars, the Peace will rule the planet and Love will steer the stars”,

I was transported back to my bedroom late in the ’60s. I could feel my young hippie self sitting on my bed, listening to this same song, looking out my window as I would do when I listened to music, and dreaming of what the day would be like when these words were true, when

“Harmony and understanding,
Sympathy and trust abounding
No more falsehoods or derisions
Golden living dreams of visions
Mystic crystal revelation
And the mind’s true liberation

Aquarius, Aquarius.”

With this winter solstice, the old world ended and a new one is beginning to dawn. We’ve entered the age of aquarius. It doesn’t mean we are all automatically liberated, or that we no longer believe illusion or only have harmony and understanding.

With this new world, we now have the possibility for these things, for this type of world. Who knows how this will come about, but I sense it will if we are open to deep listening and clear seeing, if we are willing to be shown something new, and if we are willing to stop running from ourselves and each other.

Everywhere, there will be the possibility to heal old wounds, to forgive and to make things right.

Everywhere, we are seeing signs of a new way, a way of the feminine to care for our world.

We’ve been preoccupied with consuming, with entertaining ourselves, with numbing out and pretending that the world we’ve created will last forever, with never ending fiscal growth and unlimited natural resources. We’ve ignored the deeper cries for healing and the cries of the earth herself as she’s experienced the pain of being cut up, torn apart, and decimated.

The way there, the way to this new world, can only be found right here. A door has opened. Possibilities for healing will present themselves over and over until we walk into them with the willingness to not turn away from what is right here.

This story caught my heart. I didn’t know all the details or the full history, yet the story resonated deeply. It’s about Chief Spence, a leader of  Ontario’s remote Attawapiskat First Nation, and her hunger strike. In reading about the hunger strike, I discovered that Chief Spence, the leader of northern Ontario’s remote Attawapiskat First Nation, was

“thrust into the international spotlight when she declared a state of emergency over the horrific conditions on the James Bay coast. As the Red Cross touched down with emergency aid, Prime Minister Stephen Harper lashed out against the community, and accused Chief Spence of financial mismanagement. He tried to put an end to the story by deposing the Chief and Council.

It was a serious miscalculation. Chief Spence not only defied the government, but took them to Federal Court where she won a resounding victory. The mishandling of the situation was a black eye for both Minister John Duncan and the Harper government. A little bit of diplomacy and a little bit of compassion would have gone a long way to resolving the crisis before it became an international embarrassment.

As Chief Spence said at the time, “When I declared an emergency, it wasn’t my intention to cause embarrassment to Canada and I didn’t plan this type of exposure. I just wanted to help my community.”

In Huffington Post, Canada, Charlie Angus, MP – Timmins-James Bay, wrote:

“On the day she started her strike, Parliamentarians were focused on getting home for the holidays. It hardly seemed like an auspicious time to begin such a drastic action. She walked up to Parliament Hill with only a handful of supporters. There was no media present. I met her at the Eternal Flame and presented her with some presents of friendship — wool socks, a candle and a tartan blanket. I asked her to reconsider her decision. She wasn’t budging. This was a serious business and she told me she wasn’t backing down.”

Chief Spence is asking for respect, for conversation, for honoring.

This is an opportunity for healing, deep healing in the land of North America. I am wise enough to know that there are many layers to this story. This situation is not black and white. What it is is an opportunity to heal; an opportunity to listen, to discover what we don’t yet know or understand; an opportunity for no more falsehoods or derisions, for harmony and understanding, and for trust abounding.

Prime Minister Harper represents much of the world that just ended, and he represents an aspect of ourselves that has been strongly conditioned to see the world through the lens of power over, and of domination and control. He represents an aspect of ourselves that just wants someone to take care of us, to make it all go away so we don’t have to feel. He is not the bad guy, yet his actions, like all of us, have, and continue to, wreak havoc on the planet. If he doesn’t listen, just as if we don’t listen to the Chief Spence within us, we will lose this opportunity, and all the opportunity this represents, to heal ourselves, and to heal what continues to keep us separate and afraid of each other.

If we continue to see good vs. bad, black vs. white, right vs. wrong, we will miss these opportunities, with this just being one of many. They will present themselves not only within our own psyches, but out there all over our planet.

For me as an American, just taking the time to look into this story, to discover what is happening in Canada, a very close neighbor to the north, is opening me to a larger world than simply my own country. I was just a visitor to Victoria Island, the same place where Chief Spence is holding her hunger strike. It is beautiful land.

For some time, I’ve known in my heart that the egregious things that have been done over the centuries to native peoples, and to those who were brought here to this land in the slave trade, and to numerous others, by the culture that has dominated the lands of North America, must be healed. This wounding is in the land, it is in our psyches, and it is in our bodies. It is easy to say, “It’s not my fault. I didn’t do this.” Yet, our silence shuts the door to healing.

I’m sharing this with you, today, on Christmas Eve. For me, Christ is the light within us all. His way is the way of love in action. It is through the darkness, that we discover the light. It is by acknowledging the wound, that we find our way to healing. It is through the cracks that the light makes itself known.

Chief Spence is vowing “to die unless the government started showing more respect for aboriginal treaties.” She is asking for the government to sit down and talk. In the old world, this would be a sign of weakness on the part of the government. In this new age, if peace is to guide the planet, sitting down with each other is strength. “A little bit of diplomacy and a little bit of compassion goes a long way”, both within ourselves, and between each other.

This is not necessarily going to be easy, yet we can find our way. This I do know.

As Naomi Klein wrote just today,

“During this season of light and magic, something truly magical is spreading. There are round dances by the dollar stores. There are drums drowning out muzak in shopping malls. There are eagle feathers upstaging the fake Santas. The people whose land our founders stole and whose culture they tried to stamp out are rising up, hungry for justice. Canada’s roots are showing. And these roots will make us all stand stronger.”


This is just one story. There are countless stories offering themselves to us for healing.

This is the new age, it is an invitation for us all to embody the feminine in real life, and this is the opportunity to discover a healthy masculine within each of us, a masculine that is protective and honoring rather than dominating and controlling.

Find the opportunities that are presenting themselves to you right now. Share stories. Inspire love in action. Bring awareness to places where there is darkness. Discover the strength inherent in simply sitting down together. It is here, out of this, that this new world can flourish.


Attribution Image by by virtel2 | Some rights reserved



Tonight I Danced and Came Alive



I am feeling a bit shaky, or perhaps a better way to describe it is tender, open, and feeling a multitude of things. There is a shaky quality to it, a quality of hovering in the moment where things feel raw and shaken up.

I began dancing ten years ago this month. I found the 5Rhythms and my life began to change. It was something that was difficult for me…difficult to stay on the dance floor when so much inside of me screamed, “Get me the hell out of here.” For months this battle went on inside. I don’t think anyone I shared the dance floor with could see the battle being waged on my insides. We’re pretty good at hiding our internal battles. Or, maybe that’s not true. Maybe on the dance floor (and in life) these battles show up in how our bodies move: tightness, rigidity, disconnection…all signs that there is something moving inside of us that wants to fight reality, wants to fight the dance.

When I heard that Gabrielle (the creator of 5Rhythms) was moving toward her death, I felt such fullness in my heart. I was walking down the sidewalk late at night, last night, as my friend told me, and the feeling in my heart was so strong. It wasn’t really sadness in a way I might feel for a family member or close friend for I don’t really know Gabrielle closely, having only danced with her a handful of times. What it was, and continues to be, is this immense gratitude and acknowledgment of the gifts my soul has received from her and her artistry; from the courage she has shown to bring something so new into a world where many still don’t understand what this work is about.

Doing this, deep birthing work of things that are new and counter-culture, can be frightening. I am not saying it was for her. I don’t know what it was for her. For me, though, birthing my work has been frightening. Living unabashedly female is a challenge to the status quo. Living the truth of what we are in a world (both external and internal) that is doing everything it can to keep that truth down is an act of courage in and of itself. There are so many quotes that seem to stay in constant social media orbit that speak to this very thing – it’s obviously the human journey to wake up to what we truly are. And this is where I treasure the dance…that in emptying out on the dance floor, what I truly am makes itself known… stillness, emptiness, rhythm, sweat, pure existence, bones, flesh, muscle and heart.

Tonight I Danced

[audio:|titles=Tonight I Danced]

I honor the dance because it has been such an avenue to healing, to trusting something vast and eternal and infinite, to trusting that the very same vastness and eternity is what moves this body and all our earthly, heavenly bodies.

Gabrielle sent this message out just a short bit ago:

‘i’m still here connected to all of you. the channel is open — send me your love and energy.’

May we send her this love and energy.

May we send the earth this love and energy.

May we send each other and all beings this love and energy.

Om Namah Shivaya


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