I’ve been thinking of you.
I miss reaching out from my sacred space on Lake Beseck, to you. As I write these words, the world around us seems to be moving at a faster pace than I like, not sure about you. I’m grateful for the connection we share…strands of light and energy that intertwine between us…connected in both subtle and obvious ways, we are a community.
My own life is moving a little faster, as well. After the publication of my new book (happy dance here), I began offering programs in a variety of settings. The idea includes selling books, but more. I offer an hour of talking about grief that opens a space for others to be with their losses. That is my goal – to bring grief from the closet (or basement) onto the coffee table…to light a candle of hope as together, we sit around the table and learn.
This summer has been a time of play and respite…floating, writing, swimming, yoga, wine, friends, travel. Hopefully, you’ve had some playtime as well? I’m flying to Seattle, Washington in less than two weeks to attend my 50th high school reunion. I hope to spend time with childhood memories, contemplate the face of Mt Rainier, and laugh with my companions in adolescence.
And you, my brothers and sisters? How is July unfolding in your life? Are you encountering joy? Are you feeling the pressure of responsibility? Is grief, perhaps, reaching out it’s hand to help you through a loss experience? I hope that regardless of what is asking for your attention, you are able to find the resources and friendships that will sustain you along the way. I hope you’ll look over the listing of my activities for this coming fall, in the meantime let me add one more thought:
“In the tapestry of life, we’re all connected. Each one of us is a gift to those around us, helping each other be who we are.” Anita Moorjani
May we never minimize the place we might hold in another’s story. Without knowing it, we each can bring light into someone else’s day – hope into someone else’s darkness. Each of us share in an evolution of Love that is as present as the raindrops on my window, the wind’s rush through the birch tree, the stillness of a quiet morning. Let our moments of grace join with our moments of connection as we keep hope alive and well…together.
peace to you, Lisa