Day 39: There’s No Place like Home

I feel like Dorothy in the Wizard of Oz.  It rained the whole time we were gone and I look out on vibrancy, growth, and green.

I return to a sympathy card that brings tears.  I feel like today is the first day since my brother passed that I have a whole day to sit and cry.  Yes, there is laundry and grocery procurement, and checking plants, but kitties are cuddled, and as I respond to emails, I look up and my feathered friend sits on a branch outside the window.  She waits for me to get my camera and take a photo through the slats of the blind and another through the glass door. She sits with me, a comfort in the weight of grief.

I feel molted, tender before new growth and skin form.  I feel fragile and tears continue to pour forth, harbingers seasoning what comes.  

Outside my window – comfort through the slats
Honoring a Cosanti bell of celebration

Sensory Awareness

I’ve been immersed in the practice of Sensory Awareness for over twenty-five years. I came to it when I was forty-three and knew immediately I was home. If you live in the San Francisco bay area, there’s a workshop coming up April 13 and 14. It offers an opportunity to taste more deeply and expansively this lovely world we share.

Here’s a photo of me and others touching a Gingko tree at Vallombrosa in Menlo Park. This year the workshop will be at the Shambhala Center in Berkeley to make it easier to access.

The practice of Sensory Awareness is a gift in my life.

If you’re interested, check it out: