Feng Shui

I’ve upped my study of Feng Shui, the understanding of the flow of energy. I’ve read about the importance of a sturdy and steady headboard, and now we have one, and I feel the difference as I inhabit our bed. I spend more time there, which depends on your view, but I use the time as a meditation on wholeness, healing, organizing, and reception.

This morning lying cocooned in bed, cloaked in early morning dark, I remembered the words of my teacher of Sensory Awareness, Charlotte Selver. “The organism is intelligent.” Yes!

I surrender into intelligence, my small realm, and the wider intelligence of the Earth. She heals.

Reaping What we Sow


I’ve taken all artwork off the walls in two rooms and enchanted with walls bright with fresh paint, I seem unwilling or unable to mar the clear and clean surface with choices of the past.  

Because mirrors and paintings are on the floor awaiting my decision, I see them differently, and come to this quote by D. H. Lawrence:

“It is a question, practically of relationship. We must get back into relation, vivid and nourishing relation to the cosmos and the universe . . . . For the truth is, we are perishing for lack of fulfillment of our greater needs, we are cut off from the great sources of our inward nourishment and renewal, sources which flow eternally in the universe. Vitally the human race is dying. It is like a great uprooted tree, with its roots in the air. We must plant ourselves again in the universe.”

We must plant ourselves again in the universe.”

I’m reminded of a baby’s rooting reflex, how a baby turns toward stimulus to suck. The Earth is here; she calls; she offers nourishment and support.


Though I know that change is constant, sometimes I resist it until I don’t.

I was up in the night beckoning and receiving a wider view.  I love the spaciousness of early morning hours with nowhere to go and nothing to do, so that what’s deep within comes creeping and dancing forth.  

When my sons were young, we spent the night at the Monterey Bay Aquarium.  We placed our sleeping bags near the octopus tank, and in the evening darkness, he/she unwrapped to explore.  We watched with care.

My inner felt like that this morning, a nuzzling forth and a peering out. There can be safety in the dark.

In cleaning, cleansing, and opening space in my home, I feel spacious.  There’s more to go but certain sections have objects touched, contemplated, and chosen to stay because they give me joy, and touching inside gives joy too.  I welcome and give thanks for this poem.



Inside this clay jug

there are canyons and

pine mountains,

and the maker of canyons

and pine mountains!

All seven oceans are inside,

and hundreds of millions of stars.

The acid that tests gold is here,

and the one who judges jewels.

And the music

that comes from the strings

that no one touches,

and the source of all water.

If you want the truth, I will tell you the truth:

Friend, listen: the God whom I love is inside.


This morning I read Richard Rohr.  “We don’t have to know.”

Last night I read Pema Chodron: When Things Fall Apart: Heart Advice for Difficult Times

Some days I think I’m doing well, and other days, not so much, but today I know there is no “I” and I don’t have to know.

May unity, trust, and receptivity guide, treasure, and lead us all.

Love; Right; Truth

I woke this morning, embraced and bathing in Love.  Love is the only answer. It’s the fabric of the universe, the tissue that connects us, and there is enough.  Love is abundant, like life.

When I had my first child, I couldn’t imagine such love, and then, came the second, and there was an expansion of that love, a deeper immersion, a bath.  Love expands like the universe.

I watched Adam Schiff’s speech this morning.  “Right matters and truth matters. Otherwise we are lost.”

I don’t know why so many people are defending lies and corruption, but I’m expanding to trust that Love, Right, and Truth carry the day.

On Thursday, I walked home after taking my car to the garage to be checked. I like to cut over to the marsh on this bridge rather than walking on the road. I came to this sign.

Halt, Pause, Re-think

I back-tracked wondering why this sign right now. I think as a country we’re being asked to return to the values on which this country was founded, and yes, it was written by white men, but we have expanded to be more inclusive, and we need to keep moving forward with Love of the Truth and facts that demonstrate what’s right.

Looking Up
View from a different bridge


Again, it’s dark and gray with rain.  This January offers stillness and reflective time.

I’ve been immersed in Tracy K. Smith’s memoir Ordinary Light.  The book ends with the passing/passage of her mother.  

Lately I’ve felt my mother close though she passed 15 years ago.  Perhaps it’s the birth of my grandchild, her great grandchild that connects the cords.

Tracy ends the book with a poem by Seamus Heaney from his book, The Haw Lantern.  The sonnet sequence called “Clearances” is an elegy for his mother.  It closes with this. 


I thought of walking round and round a space

Utterly empty, utterly a source

Where the decked chestnut tree had lost its place

In our front hedge above the wallflowers.

The white chips jumped and jumped and skited high.

I heard the hatchet’s differentiated

Accurate cut, the crack, the sigh

And collapse of what luxuriated 

Through the shocked tips and wreckage of it all.

Deep-planted and long gone, my coeval

Chestnut from a jam jar in a hole,

Its heft and hush become a bright nowhere,

A soul ramifying and forever

Silent, beyond silence listened for 

Morning Glow

I love a three day weekend, the pause to reflect.  This weekend offers the Women’s March and the honoring of the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King Jr.

I sit with both, with the honoring of dreams and the cost.  Days after Dr. King was assassinated, Congress passed the Civil Rights Act of 1968.  

Now we have an administration that separates children from their parents.  I watch my grandchild and how he interacts, and receives our admiration, love, laughter, and consolation for his tears.  Imagine not having that. Imagine every child on this planet being carried with such love. That is my dream, that each child is carried with love until the little legs straighten and he, she, or they stand on their own.  

The sky was rose-pink again this morning.  The glow moves through me, caresses me, as I stand outside looking up through branches still bare.

May each of us honor this day as fully as movement allows, as broadly as breath spreads, breath carried, shared, and passed among us all.

Morning Light

Looking Up

Ripening Wisdom Shared

In connecting with friends this year, I’m honoring the words of Georgia O’Keefe. “To see takes time, like to have a friend takes time.”

I’m honoring that going through what I’ve accumulated in 70 years of living is a process of seeing, mindfulness, absorbing, reflecting, and choosing what I need now.  In this I feel a deepening in my relationship with my friends, a deeper, clearer look at how we grow and what we share.

Last night I saw Gary Snyder and Jane Hirshfield speak at the Mill Valley library.  300 people had registered and were let in first. Then, about fifty of us waited to see if there was room for us.  Those who had registered but arrived past the 6:45 cut-off time were demanding to be let in. There was intense energy at the front door as Angie Brennan, the head librarian, explained over and over again the rules of access. You would have thought we were trying to get into a rock concert.  Finally room was made for us all though some of us stood.

Jane Hirshfield spoke first, and was wonderful as always, but Gary was a little more of a rambler since I last saw him. He began with remembering back to when he was 7 and came to the MV Library.  He said it hadn’t changed. The beautiful structure, though reinforced, is intact. 

 He then rambled through the decades, sometimes off by one or two, but what’s the difference between the 1950’s and 60’s  when you’re going to be 90 in May. His history is fantastic, and listening to him, I saw why the mandala is such a lovely image for the self, especially as we expand on decades.  With maturity, we are spinning in a circle, never quite sure where the dial will land with what we want to share.

Be patient with we elders, I say to the young.  Our wisdom is run through a blender, and we’re in the process of pureeing the chunks.

Moss outside the library – lush with rain

Day Comes to Light

Crows give notice, caw the first call.  Then, smaller birds begin to tweet.  It’s a new day, a new moment, and I’m with the words of William Blake.

“The tree which moves some to tears of joy is in the eyes of others only a green thing which stands in the way… As a man is, so he sees.” 

Notice how you’re seeing today.  Hone perception and Be!

Early Morning Light

Proportion and Symmetry

Our cat Tiger loves to sit and look at the moon.  Last night he was watching the sun set behind the ridge.  I called him in off the deck so I could close the door as it was cold but he looked at me with his big eyes, and said, “Look at what is happening”, so I, too, went outside and watched light come to dark. Then, together, refreshed, we came inside.

This morning I lay in bed waiting for the moment that invites me to rise.

I felt my heart like a diamond cut into facets to invite even more shine, or so I thought, but then I began to wonder about facets and if my imagery was quite right. From the Cape Town Diamond Museum I learned that though it might be considered desirable to have more facets, “in most cases, it depends on the perfect proportion and symmetry of the facets rather than the amount of facets”. 

So, now I’m back to balance, balancing the proportion and symmetry of the facets in my heart. 

I’m still cleaning out my house. The carpet cleaner comes today, and so again making way, it’s a wonderful opportunity to see that I have more facets than I need. Working with proportion and symmetry, I slice carefully into what is here to further increase sparkle, clarity, depth, and shine.