I’ve been carrying an evocative question as I continue this work of “becoming.”

We have talked at length about what’s been shifting in our sense of the world and our inklings about why we are here. In this offering, there’s a deepening.

We are alive, friends. It’s painful and exquisite. There is so much darkness. It’s real. Death is all around us. Unaddressed pain has mixed with power and fragmented us, but we are encircled by a Love that is permeating the darkness in the most creative ways. 

John O’Donohue said good conversations are like “food and drink for the soul.” What does this stir in you?

The teachers who have shaped me invited me — whether explicitly or in the way they uniquely inhabited their life and calling — to engage with my soul.

Finding fluency in my body’s signals doesn’t mean life is easy or that I’m perfect, it means that I am learning. The learning has happened little by little in the tiniest of increments that I’ve savored the heck out of.

John O’Donohue give us words for the obscurity we encounter in our dark nights of the soul. I take comfort in knowing I’m not the only one to encounter this location in my spiritual geography.

Every so often, I’m visited by a traveling itch.
I push up my sleeve and scratch deeply,
but this itch is a deft matador.

This practice invites you to engage with evocative images to listen with curiosity for inner resonance and resistance.

When we were children, most of us were good friends with mystery. The world was full of it and we loved it. Then as we grew older, we slowly accepted the indoctrination that mystery exists only to be solved.

What words shimmer for you in this poem by Derek Mahon? What arises in you as you hold those words?

This playlist is not designed to tell you that your dark night of the soul is not so bad, nor is it an attempt to coax you out of your dark night.

The enneagram came to me in a season when I was ready to take a look at the parts of me that I’d been afraid to look at. It was a tool that pointed to some tender spots within me that I didn’t have language for in a compassionate way.

Waiting for medical test results on this particular day, I found it difficult to get a deep breath. I also found thinking complicated, as worst-case scenarios danced in my head. I took a walk, capturing images along the way. As I contemplated this image, my soul gifted me a blessing.

If you’re weary of trying harder, Aundi Kolber suggests an alternative - ”trying softer” - with our attention, our bodies, our emotions, and more.