stories

My hair’s a little cray; I have major glasses glare; I’m not sure exactly where to look; I hold the book up like a spaz, and I’m even giving you an “outtake” below!
All that to say… here I am on video you guys! Warts, wrinkly neck and all!

I did this as my act of surrender—something I’ve struggled with; had fist-fights with; but have finally decided to give-it-a-go.

My latest obsession: The Surrender Experiment— My journey into life’s perfection by Michael Singer.

I’m trying to surrender to the hand of life… so stay tuned, I’ll let you know how that’s going… Fuck you guys, I figured out how to do a video!

I gotta say—it’s kinda magic (wink)

That’s all.
Love you.
Carry on,
xox

http://untetheredsoul.com

I just spent the day writing an article about getting divorced at twenty-six for a series on divorce at all ages.

I called it I Was A Twenty-Six Year Old Divorced Unicorn because that was how…um,…unusual I felt at the time.

You see, my ex wasn’t a troll. He wasn’t a bad guy in any way. We just weren’t a good match. But you need more than that as grounds for divorce. How did I know we weren’t a match that could pass the test of time at the tender age of twenty-six?

Because I was desperately unhappy. Like can’t eat, can’t sleep unhappy.

That was my first clue. My second clue was the fact that the stress I was under (pretending I was in love) kept my appetite nonexistent and my weight at barely one hundred pounds. I know. You’re thinking Oh, boo fucking hoo, you can’t gain weight. But at five foot five, it was a real problem.

True story: At the time of my divorce my weight dropped to 97-98 lbs. I wore a size zero and looked like a skeleton. Apparently my eyesight went too because I thought I looked amazing. My mom, never one to mince words, looked at me wearing my teeny-tiny Barbie clothes and lost her cool. “You think you look good, don’t you?” she hissed. “Well, you don’t! You look like shit! Eat something! NOW!”

Sadly, in recent years my metabolism has begun to listen to my mother— and it has turned on me. Now when I’m under intense stress I crave raw cookie dough, and frosting out of the can; and if I eat an olive, I gain five pounds. Hand to God.

Today I searched for the one word to describe how I felt at the time. At the time I was not able to articulate exactly what I wanted and what I felt was missing—all I knew was that in my heart of hearts—I wanted more. That’s when it suddenly came to me—greedy. I felt greedy. Not a positive word because my emotion at the time was so misunderstood.

“More than what?” my dad had asked me upon hearing that I wanted a divorce. “What more could you possibly want? It doesn’t seem like anyone can make you happy!”

Wow! He was right about that. That was my job, only I didn’t know it at the time.

I only knew that something profoundly wonderful was missing, and I wasn’t able or willing to settle.

So that made me feel greedy. And greedy felt wrong.

Other people settle. Why can’t I?
Believe me when I say, It would be so much easier to just stay married!

“I’m a freakin’ unicorn! An anomaly; and NO ONE understands or knows what to make of me!”

Once I was single, I found out guys didn’t want to date a twenty-six year old divorcee.

Typical First Date Conversation:

“So, you ever been married?”

“Yeah.”

“Really? He die?”

“Uh, no, we’re divorced.”

“He cheat on you?”

“Nope.”

“He left you?”

“Nope. I left him.”

(Beat) “Waiter, check please!”

Obviously I needed to set my bar higher.

What I eventually discovered, after a whole lot of sleepless nights, and years of pain, was that there were benefits to divorce; to asking more from life; to refusing to settle; to being greedy.

I also forgot that a Unicorn is a mystical, rare and beautiful creature.

So I’m curious…

This being what it is, more of a stream of consciousness, I want to turn the tables and ask you guys:

Q- What does it mean to you to settle? When have you done it and when could you not?

Q- Do you agree with the word greedy? What word would you choose when things look good but you want more?

Q- Are you a Unicorn? Why?

I love you all madly, carry on,
xox

The other day my sweet, seventeen year old daughter/friend was relaying yet another episode of the teen-angst drama that is her life.

“Nobody likes me when they first meet me” she said over a ridiculously expensive order of avocado toast (when did that become a thing?) and eggs. Before I could inquire as to why that was the case, she laid it all out for me; and you know what? The more things change the more they stay the same, only these days—they just have better names.

“They say I have an epic resting bitch face. I’m notorious for it.” I could sense her pride.

I stole a piece of her avocado deliciousness and feigned ignorance in order to maintain my highly coveted, second-mom status. “What? What are you talking about? Your face is stuck in a constant state of adorableness.”

But I knew what they were talking about. I’d seen it in candid photos of her. Her resting bitch face could stop a train.

She is a shy girl; extremely smart with a highly defined bullshit detector (which I’d like the credit for teaching her), but when she’s unaware you’re looking; her face says: Keep moving, there’s nothing here for you. You’re boring. Life is boring. Why are you still here?

It keeps away the riffraff.

It’s not just women, my husband has a resting bitch face that he has crafted and honed over many decades. It says: Don’t bother me you stupid person—unless you have a dog, then it can come sit next to me. He has a cleft between his eyebrows that could hold a quarter. He looks like an assassin—until he smiles—then his whole face lights up and gives him away.

Because I know those two as well as I do, I think the sensitive ones among us have the most murderous resting bitch faces.

It’s like the moat around the castle. It takes effort to get in. If you get scared away—so be it. You lose.

One night while sitting around gabbing, a couple of my friends were surprised when the conversation turned to their resting bitch faces. One was absolutely crest-fallen. She had no idea she even had one. But it explained why no one would come and talk to her at social gatherings which had bothered her for years. “I looked over and saw you driving once—honey, your resting bitch face is terrifying!” our other friend divulged with an appalling lack of tact, after too much Sangria.

“Fuck you, I’m a nice person, besides, nobody’s face looks happy all the time” she huffed, not wanting to hear it.

I attempted to smooth things over.

“It’s a form of social anxiety. I don’t think we’re aware of what our faces say when we’re not trying. Kinda like tone of voice. Some people just have a dismissive tone of voice (my husband’s second line of defense, the alligators in the moat). They don’t mean to. They can’t hear it. It’s the same for their face. They don’t mean to be a bitch face—they just can’t see what other people see. I’ve been told I have one that could freeze fire”

“Damn, I was scared of you until I got to know you”, people used to say to me when I was younger—only I was a bitch—and my face was like that all the time so…

Seriously though, I became aware of my own resting bitch face back in the nineties; the decade where I unwittingly scared ALL men and most animals and small children.
One day as I was rushing through the madness that is the DMV, (which is impossible, I just told myself that to maintain my sanity), as I was herded like the rest of the cattle to stand on the line to have my picture taken, the lovely, overworked and highly under appreciated woman snapped it while I was unaware; waiting for her to look up and say cheese or whatever. I heard a click and took that as my cue to smile my big red-lipstick smile.

A couple of weeks later when I received my license in the mail, there she was staring back at me, that holy terror—my resting bitch face—caught two seconds before the smile.

Yikes! Who was that girl?
She didn’t look warm or approachable.
She looked like she’d jump onto your shoulders and snap your neck with her thighs just for the fun of it.
Maaaaaaybe I could see what people meant when they called me intimidating;
Perhaps that’s why I couldn’t get a date to save my life?

I took notice. Now I paid attention to the feedback I received about my castle/moat energy and I tried to soften the fuck up. It took years. Resting bitch face still creeps in occasionally if I’m tired or around people I don’t know.

Work in progress you guys.

Listen, do you have a resting bitch face or is it your tone of voice? What is your moat?

Carry on bitches!
xox

Quit listening to the “experts”.
Stop tying to conform.
Finally realize how one-of-a-fucking-kind you are!
Make like a unicorn and believe in the unbelievable.
Believe in yourself and be the best you,you can be!
Happy Sunday you guys!
xox

*Perhaps the best thing I’ve read about the connection between the mind and the body. EVER.
Hands down!
I know Liz did the wise thing and cautioned everyone regarding this method—but I say DO IT!
DO TRY THIS AT HOME!
What have you got to lose?

I advise the people who ask me, to talk to their body. Make friends,with it. It doesn’t matter if it’s weight, a “bad” knee or cancer. Your body is NOT your enemy you guys, it’s your ally and it wants to partner with you to achieve balance and health so you can both lead the best life ever!
Carry on to health,
xox

“PERHAPS I AM STRONGER THAN I THINK” — Thomas Merton

Dear Friends-
I’ve spent the last eleven days hiking in the Italian Alps.

And that is a sentence that — 15 years ago — I would never have imagined myself ever writing.

I used to have a bad knee. It started during my divorce, when every part of me was falling apart — head to toe, inside and out. But my left knee was the worst of it. I twisted it one day, and it was never the same again. I couldn’t even walk up a flight of stairs without pain. At the time I went to see a doctor about it, who said simply, “Well, that’s why they call it getting older, and not getting younger.” (Thanks, doc.)

For years, I babied my knee. I identified myself as someone whose knees were “bad”, the way certain dogs and neighborhoods are called “bad”. If I took a yoga class, and the teacher asked if anyone had any physical limitations, I dutifully raised my hand and explained that I had a bad knee. I was given special movements, and told to be extra careful. Every new doctor was told about my bad knee. My friends knew about my bad knee. I iced it and heated it and put braces on it and took tons of ibuprofen and kept my range of motion limited because of it. I visited all kinds of professionals — traditional and alternative, alike.
But my knee never stopped hurting.
Until 5 years ago.

Now listen — before I go on here, please don’t do anything stupid to your body because of what I’m about to say, OK? I’m not a medical professional, and you must be a wise steward of your own lovely physical being.

But here is what happened to me.

One day — and it did happen suddenly, one day — about five years ago, I asked my knee what it wanted from me.
I literally spoke to it. I got very quiet, and very sleepy, and I said, “Tell me what you need from me, dear knee. I’m listening. I’ll do whatever you say. Surgery? A replacement? More gentle care? More acupuncture? A change of diet? Reiki? Just give me the word.”

Then I got very quiet, and my knee told me what it wanted. I heard the answer in the depths of my mind, as clear as day. It said, “GO FASTER.”

Go faster, said my knee. Go running. Go climbing. Go dancing. Use me. Jump up and down on me. I am a KNEE. There is absolutely nothing wrong with me. I am wondrously designed, said my knee. I am not a weak point, but a strong one. I am part of your body, and I want to be used. I am not a symbol of your divorce. I am not a sign of aging. I am not a problem. Don’t baby me. I don’t want to spend the rest of my life being treated like a Victorian invalid lady who has to take to her bed because of her fainting spells. I am not weak. Stop this. Please, please, please — said my “bad” knee to me — please stop using me as an expression of your weakness, fear, and emotional fragility. Please talk to your therapist about whatever troubles are ongoing in your mind, but don’t blame for everything. Please just trust me. Please just use me as I was designed. Use me as a freaking KNEE.

The next day — hand to God — I went running for three miles and I was fine. I’ve been fine ever since.
Again — PLEASE don’t go and do anything physically stupid to yourselves because of this story. I can barely explain it myself — how suddenly my “bad” knee was no longer bad. I have never been able to speak to a body part so clearly again, and I know it seems crazy that it happened at all.
But it happened.

There was pain (remember — that was my “divorce knee”) and then I was finally ready to put the pain away, and to stop using my knee as a pain-memorial.

All I know is this — that pain is a complicated and multi-layered force. Nobody experiences pain the same way, which is why it’s so difficult to treat. Some of our pain abides in the body, and some of it abides in the mind, and some of it abides in our histories. As pain moves through us, it passes through what scientists call “amplification centers” in our beings. Our emotions are amplification centers. our fear is an amplification center. Our imaginations are amplification centers. Our anger, too. All of these parts of ourselves amplify the pain in our mind, and sometimes commit to that pain fully — forever.

I had a friend once who injured her back during a hard time in her life, and it didn’t recover for years. One day, a doctor finally asked her, “What was the first thing you thought, when you felt your back go out?”
My friend said, “I thought, ‘This is going to hurt me for the rest of my life”.
The doctor, very kindly, said, “Maybe it’s time for you to stop thinking that.”
Her healing began there.

I believe that I did hurt my knee 15 years ago — but mildly, temporarily, and not in a way that it needed to cause me pain for a decade. I believe that my “bad” knee lived on inside my mind, not in my knee itself. When pain abides in the mind, it does not mean you are crazy, or that the pain is any less “real”. Trust me, my knee HURT. It just means that pain is living on within your body because — for some reason — it must. Because you are not done suffering. Because I was in heart-pain for ten years, and that pain needed a location. My poor knee took the pain for me. Until it didn’t want to any more.
Anyhow — what if you are stronger than you think?

I am all for people treating themselves with gentle loving care (and maybe part of my recovery from emotional pain was all about focusing on treating my knee like a poor, suffering baby — so that I could take care of myself with kindness at some level. Maybe that helped me to heal my heart.) But what if there are parts of your body that don’t want to be babied forever?

What if every single part of us longs to be USED?

What if our bodies long to be freed from the past, so that they can move as they were designed to move?

What if our hearts long to love?

What if our minds long to be creative?

What if our spirits just want everything to be forgiven?

What if your knee wants you to climb a mountain, to show you how powerful you actually are?

Wouldn’t that be crazy?

Wouldn’t that be freaking wild?

Wouldn’t that fill you with so much joy, you feel that your heart may burst from it?

ONWARD,
LG

http://www.elizabethgilbert.com

*This is an oldie but goodie from a little over a year ago. Similar drama, same cast of characters, familiar circus—just the monkeys have changed. Better shoes.
Carry on,
xox

“Whenever you become anxious or stressed, outer purpose has taken over, and you lost sight of your inner purpose. You have forgotten that your state of consciousness is primary, all else secondary.”
~Eckhart Tolle~

Man, can you feel it? There’s a LOT of drama out there.

It’s like the Shakespeare Festival has staked its tent and all the players are acting out their melodrama…inside OUR lives. Crazy has come to town.

It feels not only national, but global…even Cosmic.
Lots of amped up solar activity lately. March even spit us an X class solar flare on its way out. I blame everything wonky on solar flares. Computer goes down, car won’t start, dog poops in the house.

“I call it! Solar flare!” From bad TV reception, to cranky pants postal workers, to epic fly away hair and static electricity. I went to pet the dog last night and produced an electrical arc that would have made Tesla proud. “Solar flare!”

If you think that full moons bring out the crazies, I betcha twenty bucks solar flares are worse.

Mother Earth is even rattled for Pete’s sake. It’s rockin’ and rolllin’, and keeping us all guessing. “They” even say that the 8.2 in Chile was not “The Big One”. “They” are not helping. “They” need be run out-of-town with torches and pitchforks. Kidding. But seriously people, you don’t know ANYTHING for sure. Pipe down or soon everyone in Chile and California will be sleeping in the park.

Oh yeah, Crazy loves to camp.

Driving is especially insane these days. On the freeway this morning, there must have been an accident every mile and a half.
People are short-tempered and stressed, and that makes them drive really fast while texting, eating an Egg McMuffin and putting on mascara.

I’d tell you it’s safer to fly, but…honest to God, where’s that freaking Malaysian plane?

The energy seems to be crackling with chaos and turmoil. So how do we stay above the fray? How do we not get caught up in all this drama? Especially when the majority of it doesn’t even belong to us?

1) TURN OFF CNN.

2) Breathe and stay in the moment. Someone’s got to keep a cool head.
Don’t worry about what “could” happen. Breathe and stay in the moment.

If the Earth opens up and swallows your neighbor’s house…breathe and stay in the moment.
If the car next to you swerves and flips on it’s back. Breathe and stay in the moment.

3) Keep a cool head. Stay grounded. It’s not your shit. Help out.
Be one of the people who stays calm and carries on. We need you.
If it’s not happening to you directly, breathe and stay in the moment so you can be of assistance.

If YOUR house is hit by an asteroid, you know what I’m gonna say:
Breathe and stay in the moment.
Then grab the dog and run.

XoxJanet

How crazy is it where you are?
How do you stay grounded? Or do you? I want to hear about it in the comments below.

“Damn! Why does that keep happening?” I repeatedly yell at my Macbook, WordPress spellcheck, and most loudly at myself.

You’ve probably seen the ones that escape me. The number one spelling faux-pas that makes it into my blog post and drives me insane.

If I forget that first “t” in meditate the word becomes mediate.
Fuck!

And because it is a word in its own right it slips by all the checks and balances and even my highly discerning eagle eye.
When I finally do catch it (or *#@& Dominator calls it to my attention), I want to scream,(and often do) “No, no, not mediate—meditate!”

The other day while I was maneuvering deep behind the curtain of secrecy that operates my blog to change that reoccurring rogue word to the one I intended; I was struck by lightning.
Well, not really, I was wearing my rubber flip-flops and there wasn’t a storm cloud in site, but I’m speaking figuratively.

Figuratively I was struck in the forehead by a giant, white-hot, lightning bolt of AhHa!

Meditation and mediation are NOT separate words with different meanings; they mean the same thing!
Who knew?

MEDIATE

Verb: mediated, mediating.
1.
To settle (disputes, strikes, etc.) as an intermediary between parties; reconcile.

4.
To act between parties to effect an agreement, compromise,reconciliation, etc.

Holy shit you guys! That’s what mediation does for us—it mediates!

And just like any good mediator it settles the disputes between our endlessly fearful, misinformed mind-chatter, (This is crazy! It doesn’t feel safe! I’m going to get hurt! I’m never wrong! Lash out! Tell lies! Act like an idiot!), and the wiser, quieter voice in our head that has the good sense not to come to the table without a mediator (and a fancy hat).

It acts as the intermediary between me and me. Meditation helps to bring about peace of mind, (shhhhhhhhh, all is well) self reconciliation, (you did the best you knew how, let it go), and clears the way for the removal of any (and there are many), misunderstandings that stand in the way of our spiritual growth.

It can and does, convey many messages and gifts; ones that can only be realized through quieting the mind through meditation. (Ideas, insights, and forgiveness, to name a few).

It is the third-party that helps us to reach a compromise between what our ego wants to do (like strangle the check-out girl at Target), and what our higher self knows is the right thing to do (zip our lips, smile and say thank you).

So the next time you see mediate where I probably meant meditate—think again!

Meditate and then Carry on,
xox

*Hi you guys,
I like what Danielle has to say here, especially numbers 3,4 & 5.
Oh, and number 2 and number 9 are good also!
Okay, I like them all—read on!
xox

The problem with manifestation techniques and what that psychic told you. (Plus 9 principles for predicting and manifesting.)

The problem with a lot of prediction & manifestation techniques is that we tend to forget that other humans are involved in our manifesting. And we can’t control other humans — as much as we’d LOVVVE to. Other humans = variables and complications and heaps of crazy free will.
For instance, that Soul Mate you have your eye on, they actually have their own life plans. (I know babe, their life would be SO much better if you were in it. I know.) And that big gig you’re gunning for, well there’s a cadre of players and circumstances involved — circumstances that are so out of your control.

But, alongside the realities that you can’t sway, is the very powerful force of magical, miracle thinking. Material and ethereal.

Realism + magic = manifestation power. Predictions + openness = even MORE manifestation power.

A FEW PRINCIPLES FOR PREDICTING & MANIFESTING. (And yes, they are paradoxical.)

Manifesting Principle #1: Free will.
You can’t control much outside of yourself. And it doesn’t matter if three psychics said that you and So n’ So were SO going to get it ON this summer. You can’t out-will someone’s free will. (Unless you’re an evil dictator, but we’re talking about ethical dream-realization.)

Manifesting Principle #2: Anything is possible.
Anything. You could get discovered in an elevator. Your twin flame could find you in a cabin in the middle of Alaska during a snowstorm. The admissions officer could play golf with your dad. Miracles happen ALL the time — crazy intersections and cosmic conspirations that bring it all together just for you and right on time. Believe.

Manifesting Principle #3: The future can be seen and felt.
External psychic input can be extremely valuable for navigating — I have oracles and mediums I call on often. Just like the lady empath Troy on Startrek, I think organizations should have a refined clairvoyant on their staff.

As for time predictions from clairvoyants, astral time is not the same as Earth time. So at best, timing forecasts are 50/50. Also…the channeller effects the message. Every medium puts their fingerprint on what they deliver to you. That can be good, bad, or neutral. It’s just something to be aware of.

We can often sense what’s coming — we just act like we can’t. Either way, keep in mind Principles #1 and #2.

Manifesting Principle #4: You have multiple possible futures — each of which could be equally incredible.
10,000 Soul mates. 900 once-in-a-lifetime opportunities. 340 winning tickets. Infinite big breaks. Meditate on multiple pleasurable outcomes and you will loosen your grip on things being exactly how you “think” you want them to be.

Manifesting Principle #5: “Hasn’t happened yet” means just that — not YET.
Because something hasn’t occurred in our desired timeframe, doesn’t mean that it’s never going to happen.

Manifesting Principle #6: The universe has a way better imagination than you do.
My life has no resemblance to what I thought it was going to be — and I’m impressed with where failure, and courage, and the mystery have brought me. More colourful. More expanded. Way deeper. Way better than I imagined.

Manifesting Principle #7: Things change — YOU change.
What you and your astrologer predict for you today could be on target. But you could do something tomorrow to alter that course or create a wrinkle in time. Changing.

Manifesting Principle #8: Pre-determinism is total bullshit. FREE WILL REIGNS SUPREME.

Manifesting Principle #9: Life really is what you make it. Live full out today. And it’s from there that the future unfolds.

All Love,
Danielle
https://www.daniellelaporte.com

Lately my happiness has been so conditional it’s not even funny. So Seriously NOT funny you guys!

If my happiness relies on the people and circumstances around me being just so, well, …I’m fucked.

So I’ve pretty much lived in and out of my own fuckdom these past few weeks; and maintaining the least bit of equilibrium has been work.

Hard work is an understatement . It is some of the hardest work I can remember.

Meaning: I’ve had to be mindful. I’ve had to meditate, distract myself, bite my tongue, walk outside, listen to music and REALLY deliberately center myself to maintain happiness from moment to moment—from the inside, out.

I’m here to report that its been harder than I expected and I’ve screwed up and been launched onto the rocks quite a few times.
I have the scraps and bruises to prove it.

Previous to the end of July things had felt pretty good. Things had been on track. Things and been humming along nicely, and in truth, MY immediate things are still humming a happy little tune; but this eye of the hurricane which I’ve found myself traversing feels precarious.

All around me high velocity chaos is whooshing and roaring, leaving me flummoxed and dizzy. If you look close inside the shitstorm you can probably see me clicking my heels, shouting loudly over the din to maintain that secure feeling of calm.
There’s no place like clarity!
Theres no place like peace!
There’s no place like happiness!
Whoosh……………………rocks.

I actually had this thought the other day: Can we even trust happiness?
For most of us it is so fickle; fleeting and conditional, that the safer money would be to bet on sadness.
Sadness is a given.
Sadness is reliable and punctual. It never RSVP’s, why would it bother? It always shows up.
Sadness is trustworthy, it never disappoints.

“Fifty percent happy, fifty percent sad, THAT is the Ideal Life Ratio.”

I was once told that if you could maintain that ratio, keeping the scales balanced equally between the two, that was an amazing accomplishment and a life well lived.

Really? Fifty percent was the best I could hope for?
Do those sound like good odds to you? Not me.
I didn’t agree with those odds then and I still don’t, and neither should you.

You give me fifty-fifty, and I want more! People, we need to have higher aspirations.

I like my bacon well done, my eggs over medium, and I like my happiness the same way I like my love—unconditional, or at least as unconditional as humanly possible.

If I can manage to disentangle my happiness from the circumstances that surround me, I stand a much better chance of maintaining it. But how?

First I had to know, without a shadow of a doubt that I control NOTHING. I have absolutely NO control over anyone or anything. The ONLY control I have is over my own feelings, thoughts, and perceptions.

Whew! What a relief!

I know if I join the swirling chaos, even for a few minutes, the current carries me away, off into the rocks of confusion, powerlessness, and ultimately—sadness, and often it wasn’t even my own shit. I let someone else’s shit sweep me away. Bravo me.

So…what to do?

What if I could accomplish the seemingly impossible?

What if I could witness a bunch of shitstorms around me, but not get sucked in? What if I could help in whatever way possible, but maintain a secure lifeline back to my own clarity, calm and happiness.

Holy shit! What a life-changer that could be!
To no longer be at the whim of every assjack on the other end of a phone or steering wheel!
To no longer fall down the rabbit hole of an illness! To no longer fall prey to doubt or disappointment of myself or others!
To no longer let fear spin me around and around while wearing a blindfold and holding scissors!

Unconditional happiness. What? That’s right, you heard me!
Happiness based only on what’s going on INSIDE not OUTSIDE of me. The eye of the hurricane. Literally.

But Man! I’ve gotta tell ya, it takes a LOT of focus!
It is some of the hardest work I’ve ever done and I’ve gotta say, it’s a lot easier to let yourself go to sad, (or crabby, or teary, or pissed, same thing).

Sometimes, it even makes fifty percent look like a blessing…

Ideal Life Ratio my ass! Not for me!
Eighty/Twenty. That’s MY goal.
Hard work I know, but I’m worth it.

Carry on my peeps,
xox

I forgot about this amazing chant. A couple of my soul sisters (you know who you are) posted it on Facebook this weekend reminding me of it, and I listened over and over,(I recommend earphones) breathing deep; relaxing into peace; releasing stress; and remembering that this is really all just an illusion…

For your Monday Mindfulness I give you: The Great Bell Chant.

Be well and carry on my loves,
xox