Chakra Toning/Journaling Sequence

Chakra Toning/Journaling Sequence

Chakra wheels of energy

 

The following exercise utilizes sound to open the chakras. I use the word tone, which in Latin means “stretched sound,” to mean sounding a vowel without words for as long as is comfortable, then breathing when you need to, and sounding the same vowel again. It’s like chant without the words. The vibration of your own sound reverberating throughout your body opens space in all of your cells. When we focus a specific vowel and pitch on a particular region of the body, as in the chakras, the added intention opens the energy in that part of the body. As Jonathan Goldman said, “Frequency + intention = healing.” In other words, adding intention to the sound amplifies the physical effects in the body, allowing our natural energy to flow more freely.

In this sequence, we will tone 3 chakras to open their energy and then pause to answer a question. We are toning the 7 major chakras plus 2 others. You can tone each chakra as long as you like. It has been demonstrated that when we tone one vowel sound or note for three minutes, our brain waves change to entrain to the sounding vibration. Tone each chakra a minimum of 5-6 breaths. Let your body decide when it feels done. Then read the prompt question and write whatever comes up, without censorship, judgment or punctuation. This is a way to channel and hear your inner wisdom.

For each chakra, I have listed the physical location of the chakra, followed by the vowel sound in brackets, the element associated with each chakra, the color, the organs, and the focus of each chakra’s energy. Start with the root chakra low in your range and sing each chakra a note higher than the last one as you ascend to the 8th chakra. It does not need to be a scale, nor do you need to know what the note is. Just allow your voice to go a little higher for each ascending chakra.

 

1- Tone: Root Chakra- base of your spine – tailbone – [uh] low in your range, Earth energy, red, adrenal glands, detoxing, Survival, Fear, Security, life/death, primal instincts, “I exist.”

2- Sacral Chakra – about 2 inches below the navel/ low belly – [oo], Water, orange, reproductive organs, life force, sensuality, sexuality, creativity, pleasure/pain, “I desire/I feel.”

3- Solar Plexus Chakra – solar plexus, just under the diaphragm – [oh], Fire, yellow, digestion, gut, intuition, power, control, will, self-empowerment, “I will, I control.”

  • Journal ? – What feels stuck now and what would you like to let go of this year?

4- Tone Heart Chakra – heart – [ah], Air, green (or pink, if you are drawn to that color), heart, lungs, healing, Love, compassion, acceptance of all life, ” I love.”

5- High Heart Chakra – 3-4 inches above the center point between the breasts – a brighter [a] than heart chakra,  Air/Ether, turquoise/aquamarine, thymus gland which regulates the immune system, intent, connection between reason and emotions of the heart, gate to Higher Consciousness, “I open.”

6- Throat Chakra – throat, [I] – which becomes two vowels [ah + ee], Ether/Space, sky blue, voice, thyroid gland, communication, creativity, able to speak up and ask for what you need, “I create and express.”

  • Journal ? – What does your Heart Voice want to say to you?

7- Tone Third Eye Chakra – point between and slightly above the eyebrows – [aye] as in the long vowel sound of the letter [a], Light/Mind, indigo, pituitary gland, endocrine system, wisdom, intuition, inner wisdom, “I am the Witness.”

8- Crown Chakra – top of the head, [ee], Transcendence, Beyond Elements, white or purple (go with the color that draws you), controls body and mind, One with Source, enlightenment, connection to the Divine, “I am One with all.”

9- Soul Star Chakra – above the head from 6″ up to 2 feet above the head, start a hand’s width above your head – [om], sacred space, white, higher Self, Spiritual connection, the point where Spiritual energy enters and filters down throughout the body, letting go, infinite energy, spiritual compassion, Divine wisdom, “I transcend.”

  • Journal ? – What guidance does your Soul or Higher Self have for you at this time?

 

Walking in Hawaii

March 2, 2017

 

This morning I woke up in my Hawaiian loft overlooking the jungle. I am on my annual retreat visiting

Pacific Ocean on a gray day in Hilo, Hawaii

my cousin Tracey and her husband in Hilo, Hawaii. Through a gap in the green canopy, I could see a wedge of the Pacific Ocean, slate gray with a sliver of white light on the horizon. It wasn’t raining. Yet. It was my last “free” day here in Hilo, on my own while Tracey was working. I was going to have an Adventure. I had been planning this opportunity for months. The weather Gods had a different schedule. Tracey’s weather app flashed a Winter Storm warning for the whole state and all of the Big Island, with snow on the mountains and potential downpours and flooding everywhere.

First thing to let go: control of the weather. Second – all my current plans.

I felt sad, thwarted and stuck doing the same old rain-driven activities I always do in Hilo, where it rains a lot! What bothered me the most was how shut down and narrow my mind felt, thinking bleak, powerless thoughts. I focused my morning meditation on Joy and presence. I’m in Hawaii for three more days. I did not want to fret about what couldn’t happen and why the day would be wet and miserable. I wanted to be happy.

My body decided I needed to move. I drove up the coast to walk along a road that overlooked the Pacific. It was rainy by the time I got there. I found I had forgotten my sneakers, so I walked in the rain in my star-fish flip-flops, then barefoot when they began to rub. I wore my raincoat and pulled the hood up. I wrote 19 syllable poems to mark the moments.

 

I walk on the grassy sponge

next to the black road

bare

feet feel soft Mother Earth.

 

The rain turns on and off and on again.

 

Which way does the weather go?

from above? from the sea?

or

from my heart, trampled and free?

 

I can not find the public access cliff path, but the one-lane road meanders its way – black and beckoning, through green fields lined with banana trees hung with fruit, scarlet birds of paradise, cows and the lone stallion “out standing in his field.” I cross over two streams, grottos of gurgling green. I round a bend to see the Pacific through a break in the trees. I watch the mighty waves roll up to the cliff and break turquoise light and lace over the black rocks.

 

I walk alone pondering

poems and pleasure –

streams

sing their way to the sea.

 

It is a long, lovely walk. I am damp, but not soaked. There is beauty everywhere. I meet Tracey for lunch, after which I go to Lilliokalani Park, sit at a picnic table by the bay and read Dropping the Struggle by Roger Housden. Surrounded by water, it doesn’t rain for over an hour. Today my goal has been to be present to however the day unfolds, dropping the struggle of my mind’s expectations and preferences. Housden reminds me that when I drop the struggle to control my life experiences, I find what is actually present, which I would have missed – the joy of walking in the Hawaiian rain absorbing the magnificent scenery. In the process, I found beauty and time, inspiration and contentment.

I move to the car as the sky lowers and rain blurs the windshield. Colorful Hilo town fades to gray. Time to take my happiness indoors.

 

 

 

Sacred Sound

I prepared the Sunday service at the UU Church of Concord last Sunday on Sacred Sound.

winter sunset at Seapoint Beach, Kittery Point, ME

Here is an excerpt from my sermon:

 

Sound

Shimmers, soothes, shines

Sound

Sings, centers, celebrates

Sound

Endures

Sound

Connects, convenes

Challenges the status quo

Sound births, romances, marries, separates, and mourns

 

Sound relieves

Pain, fear, anxiety

Sound heals

 

Sound makes disconsonance consonant

Chaos clear

Separation united

 

Sound celebrates the color of diversity

Each note

Each articulation

Each crescendo and diminuendo

 

Sound entrains

Every cell to its signature tune

Every chord to the harmony of its highest vibration

Every soul to the celestial symphony

 

Sound makes space

Between atoms

Between cells

Between muscles, organs and bones

Between our endless streaming thoughts

Between our consuming emotions

Our constrictions, restrictions and rules

Sound makes space

For stillness

For now

And the new

 

We breathe –

The body expands

Releases

We inhale space

We exhale sound

A whisper of air

A sigh

A sound

A song

Our heart opens

And we are once again

United

Aware

Body, heart and mind

 

The soul calls

We answer with a song.

 

Find Your Voice

I had an amazing insight with a student this week. Pam has been taking lessons once or twice ahawk month for two years. One of her goals was to find her voice. At our first lesson, Pam said, “The more I find my voice, the more I find myself – in the rest of my life, too.”

What does it mean to “find your voice?” There are dozens of books with “find your voice” in the title or sub-title, about everything from singing to writing to speaking to psychology, politics, leadership, acting, self-worth, communication, even a title which directly echoes Pam’s comment, Find Your Voice, Find Your Life.

Our voice is our soul print. We are born able to make a wide variety of essential sounds. As we freely explore these sounds and mimic the sounds around us, we learn language and the subtleties of communication. Along the way, we also learn how to constrict and silence our voice. Finding your voice means re-discovering your authentic voice, peeling back the layers of expectations, have-tos, shoulds, and efforts to please and sound like others, hearing your original voice, the voice your were born with, your soul print.

In our lesson this week, Pam shared a valuable insight. She realized that in this process of finding her voice, she did not need to find it somewhere else. Pam said, “Finding my voice means releasing the voice I already have.”

WOW! Just writing this I had to stop and take a breath. That seems so obvious once it’s said, but, in fact, it’s a very common, subterranean and damaging belief. Students start lessons with the goal that they want to “sound better,” and when they do, their voice will sound like somebody else, a friend, a teacher, a singer who’s achieved some fame. All the voice reality TV shows have this fundamental belief. They are molding singers to fit a standard of “good” that is predetermined, narrow, and external to the individual singer. The singers themselves have made it to the show because they already sing on that narrow highway.

Pam continued, ”The voice is in me already. It’s like a plant or a child. If I give it the right conditions, it will grow and flourish.” The right conditions are tools that allow students to express themselves, to grow and develop the fullness of their resonant voice. Pam’s tools include learning about breath, posture, and flow, releasing muscle constriction, finding resonance, and vibrating every cell in her body back into alignment.

In the last two years of lessons, Pam’s voice has grown in color, confidence and authenticity. I realized that our authentic voice is the one that puts us back into alignment with who we are. It’s the voice that fits us like our skin, the one we already have, not the pleaser, the comic, the critic, the belter, the mimic, the whiner, or the diva, but the unique voice with which we were born, blooming and precious. The tools help us to get out of our own way. Singing and feeling the vibrations of our authentic voice, we are home.

The Four Layers of the Voice

TN waterfallI have not written recently because I have been working on a book about life lessons and voice. Here is an excerpt about the Four Layers of the Voice, a concept I have been exploring for some years. I would love your feedback on these ideas. What do you think? Do they trigger any personal experiences with your own voice? Do they ring true? Thanks for your reflections.
______________________________________________________________
We use the word ‘voice’ to reflect a multitude of situations – from speaking to singing to expressing ourselves to the voice of an artist or a group to the sound of an instrument, the melodic voice of a symphony or a whale. Voice can be aloud or silent, the voice of a singer or a painter, friends talking or speaking in sign language. We give voice to our feelings and opinions. We speak with one voice or many. We are in good voice or not. We lose our voice – physically or psychologically. We listen to the voice of birds or the sea. We listen to our inner voice and the voice of Spirit.
In my voice lessons, workshops, rehearsals and performances, voice encompasses all these experiences, expressed in words – silent, spoken, written or sung, in work, in creative endeavors, alone or with others, and in creating a life, giving voice to who we are. Over thirty years of teaching, I have sung with toddlers, children, teens, adults and seniors – from ages two to ninety-two. What everyone has in common is the deep urge to connect with others through voice, to give voice to our thoughts, needs, feelings, cares and desires, to share and listen.
Some years ago, I was invited to teach a Vibrant Voice workshop for a women’s chorus in Rhode Island. The Director was a good friend of mine. She wanted her women to experience their voice outside of the confines of choral music. Singers and voice students can get stuck in the limiting expectations of having a “good voice,” of singing carefully to meet the directions of their teacher or conductor, and of separating their musical voice from the voice of their life.
In the introduction to my workshop, I explained that we were going to explore the four layers of the voice – the Public voice, the Private voice, the Inner voice and the Core voice. The concept of the Four Layers of the Voice gave them permission to try some new things, to use their voice in ways they had never tried before. Most singers strive for a beautiful Public voice, separating themselves from the deeper levels. By digging into all four layers of the voice, we can enhance the expressive beauty of the Public voice. As I told the participants, opening one layer, opens them all. Exploring a deeper level of the voice helps them sing in a free-er, more embodied way.
Briefly, the Public voice is the voice we use in public. It is polite, socially acceptable and carefully modulated. It follows the rules. It is essential to daily interactions. It is the painting, the performance, the book.
The Private voice is the voice we use in private, at home, speaking with our family or trusted friends. Because our family relationships create a measure of safety, we feel more comfortable saying what we really think, feel or need. This layer can be more honest, but it makes an effort to speak “appropriately.”
The Inner voice is the voice in our head, our interior monologue. It is the voice that narrates our experience – observing, commenting, judging, and planning. It is what we really think about someone or a situation, which we deem imprudent to say out loud. This layer is the most complex because it includes our own thoughts, feelings and judgments as well as the thoughts, feelings and judgments that we have adopted from others -like our parents, siblings, teachers, friends, ministers, therapists, etc. It can be confusing to sort out which voice is ours and which is actually the voice of another, which we unconsciously absorbed as truth. This is especially true of the voices and beliefs of our parents. When we are newly born, their voice is our first means of organizing this strange new world.
The Core voice is the voice of the soul. It is the vibration of truth. It is the voice that knows what we want, what’s truly good or bad for us. It prods our choices. These truths can be inconvenient and create conflict with our public, private and inner voices. The upper three levels can be very noisy and compelling, distracting us from the quiet urgings of the Core voice. The Four Layers of the Voice are intertwined. As we experience the depth of each level, we expand the resonance of our voice across the spectrum. We begin to fully inhabit and embody our voice.

Let me know what you think. Keep on singing!

Midnight at the Oasis: Tropical Love Songs

For our annual Valentine’s concert, Kent Allyn and I traveled to exotic locales – deserts, islands and

Kent Allyn and I after our concert

Kent Allyn and I after our concert

any place that had water – Beyond the Sea, the Blue Bayou, and, of course, Midnight at the Oasis. In 1973, reviewer Matthew Greenwald said that Maria Muldaur’s saucy song, “may have been responsible for the most pregnancies from a record during the mid-70s.”

Preparing for this concert always makes me nervous. For the last two years, I’ve gotten a cold the week before the performance, a sure sign of stress. I love this concert. I love the process of picking music. I love rehearsing and creating arrangements with Kent. I love having the songs fill my body and brain for a month. What makes me nervous is that I know most of the people in the audience. I will see them in the hall of the Music School or at the bank, in the Coop or at a café for coffee. They are my friends.

This fact is also what allows me to relax. At 12:10pm on the second Thursday of February, my friends joined me to celebrate Valentine’s Day with songs of love. Afterwards, a friend, Emily, said to me, “It’s like we’re sitting around a living room together having a conversation and fabulous music.” This give and take with the audience has made me aware that I don’t need to perform. All I need do is be present, sharing songs that I love.

I have sung all my life. Children don’t “perform.” They sing for joy. The concept of performing probably crept into my consciousness when people began telling me what a lovely voice I had. By junior high I was soloing in church. Singing was still fun, but the effort to live up to expectations further reinforced the need to perform. Just singing was not enough.

Performance is a common word used to describe what people do on stage for an audience. But performance can also mean a separation of self and “performer,” in which the self –I- watches the performer – singer-me – perform, put on a show, don the mask of performer and, hopefully, give a good performance. That is how I have sung for a large part of my life, but I was always aware that the space between me and the singer-me made me uncomfortable, nervous, and disconnected from myself.

If I believe that a concert relies solely on me – my voice, my technique, my ability to express the song, my performance, then the weight of all those expectations can be nerve-wracking. That viewpoint assumes I have no help. I give – the audience receives. But if I believe that a concert is a conversation between the audience and me, that there is a give and take of energy, presence and breath, then the pressure is off me to deliver the whole experience. We are in this together. We both give. We both receive.

In solo performance mode, my primary support is what I can personally generate. In

conversation mode, support comes from everyone. I may be the initiator, but I am not alone. Which is what I have been feeling in the last few years of these concerts. I am sharing great love songs with friends. I get to prepare and enjoy the support and engagement of everyone present.

This is one of the silver linings of age and experience. I have learned that I am connected to my audience no matter what words I forget or mistakes I make. Singing and making music create the vibrations that join us together.

The Healing Power of Sound

“I had no idea what to expect. I leave feeling joyous.”
~Kathy Burpee, a participant

That was the general consensus after a daylong workshop January 23 that I taught with my good friend, Kathy Lowe. Called The Healing Power of Sound,

Healing Heads

Healing Heads

we spent the day exploring the many ways sound can be used to pro-actively change energetic states. Sound is a carrier wave of intention. Resonant intention, channeled through sound, has the power to move energy and enhance peace within one’s life. As Kathy said, “Sound moves energy, energy moves emotion, sound grounds emotion into balance in life.”
Sound changes molecular structure. Where there is constriction, i.e.- pain, whether physical or emotional, sound creates space, making incoherence coherent. Since everything in our bodies is vibrating at a cellular level, introducing a consonant sound to the system will cause the breath, body and mind to harmonically align, becoming coherent and consonant. The effect is to feel centered, balanced and whole.
I arrived an hour early to set up in plenty of time before the participants would come. I had not planned on being unable to set up the sound system. I got all the wires plugged in, but could not get sound out of the microphone. People began arriving. I could feel my anxiety and adrenaline consuming my body and mind. I felt frantic. I called my husband, who knows how to hook up sound systems. He told me to breathe. My head wanted to explode. I breathed as he talked me through the connections. We found my mistake and the mic magically worked.
That frantic energy could have hung around for hours, affecting my ability to be present for the workshop. I kept breathing, knowing what our first exercise would be.
People arrived and sat in a circle. We asked them to close their eyes. Kathy and I then began to tone the group. Kathy played a rain stick- a light, tinkling sound that creates relaxation. I used two tuning forks around each person’s head to calm their nervous system and bring them into the present moment. I switched to playing a crystal bowl and Kathy and I added our voices to the mix – toning the energy of the room, of all of us present, of our breath and beating hearts.
Afterwards, we asked people how they felt compared to when they arrived. “Calm.” “Relaxed.” “Present.” “Open.” “Receptive.” In fifteen minutes, I had totally forgotten my earlier volcanic anxiety. It had flowed out of me during the sounding. We were ready to begin.
This workshop reminded me of the simple, immediate power of sound. Extensive research has shown that chanting and toning: oxygenate cells, lower blood pressure and heart rate, increase lymphatic circulation, increase levels of melatonin, reduce stress hormones and release endorphins – the body’s natural painkillers.
We can all access this powerful tool of sound.
Try this: While you are getting ready in the morning for your day, take 3-5 minutes to tone. Toning simply means to sound a note for the length of your breath, then breathe and repeat. Stand, sit or lay down. Open your mouth and let a note come out. That is your note for the day. Any vowel. Any note. Breathe and sound your note for 3-5 minutes or until you feel like stopping. After 3 minutes, your brain waves will change as the variable frequencies of your organs, muscles and bones align harmonically. All you have to do is breathe and tone. When you are done, sit in the silent afterglow of resonance. Take that peace with you throughout your day.
At the end of the workshop, 22 people left with joy in their steps, Kathy and I included. Pam Clark, a participant, summed up the experience this way, “The workshop created space within me and moved my energy from sleepy-tired to awake and peaceful. It inspired me to be more willing to use my voice as a channel for grace in the world.”
May we all be a channel for grace in the world.
If you would like to experience The Healing Power of Sound for yourself or host a workshop in your area, let me know.

Solstice Reflection

Our solstice candles

Our solstice candles

Toward the Light
by Ann Weems

Too often our answer to the darkness

Is not running toward Bethlehem
But running away….
Christmas Peace
Comes only when we turn and face the darkness.

Only then will we be able to see
the Light of the World.

The Winter Solstice is my high holiday. It marks the returning of the light, literally and figuratively. Now that I am in the third third of my life, now that my parents are gone and friends are dying, I have begun looking at the dark as a respite, as sanctuary from running. I have run much of my life – run away from loss and transition, fear and grief, run toward love and struggle, perfection and enough, and even run in place, hoping I was moving. This year, all of my running is winding down and for that I am grateful.
The Winter Solstice spans December 21-23, three long nights before the days begin to turn back to the sun. Today is gray with low clouds and rain. I am sitting still next to my tree – bedecked and blinking. A CD is playing a song sung by Luka Bloom.
Close your eyes
Listen to the rhythm
Open your heart now
Listen to the rhythm.
The rhythm of dark and light, day and night, summer and winter, life and death, struggle and transformation.
This year, I know many people grappling with the swings of life’s rhythm, including Paul’s mother in chronic pain, my musician children, and friends with cancer. I prefer the light, but I am learning that it is the dark that informs the light. The light, in turn, reveals the whole in a rhythm of song and silence.
I sit still and close my eyes, turning toward the dark. Slowly, I feel my heart beating, the rhythm of the blood pulsing around my body. I hear a wind-chime ringing a steady bell. I feel cool air on the backs of my hands and cheeks. The CD has stopped, but music is playing in my body. Another song, written by a friend, sings in my head.
To sit within the darkness
Quiet in the night
The light comes forth from you.
Let us revel and be merry in this dark time. Let us be wherever we are. We are the light of the world.

Songweavers Sing at Second Start

“Thank you! Truly, words can’t convey the gift that you and your wonderful choir brought yesterday.”

Desire, teaching me a song

Desire, teaching me a song

 

Noella Olson, one of the teachers of ESL at Second Start, wrote me a note after a group of Songweavers sang for her adult students. Concord has a growing refugee population. In this class, there were students speaking over a dozen languages. Noella said that to get to America, to Concord, New Hampshire, everyone in the class had survived some kind of trauma.

Songweavers were asked to come sing so the students could experience English in the context of American folk songs. We sang some contemporary folk songs, like “So Glad I’m Here,” “Open Your Heart,” and “Courage My Soul.” We also sang an African song in Zulu. The students danced with us. Americans don’t typically dance and sing, especially not at the same time, but many of the students came from cultures where dancing and singing are normal daily activities for everyone, not just those who are talented. We all bumbled and laughed our way through the dance, happy to be moving together.

I taught the students some easy-to-learn classic folk songs like “This Little Light of Mine” and       “He’s Got the Whole World In His Hands.” People stood up, clapped, swayed, smiled, and sang along. I asked if any of the students would like to teach us one of their songs. A woman in a colorful wrap skirt, blouse and turban, named Korethe, sang a heart-felt hymn from her country. A young man, named Desire, taught us a lovely song of praise.

We echoed his words as best we could, giving us an immediate experience of how hard it is to learn an entirely new language. Afterwards, I videotaped Desire singing his song v-e-r-y s-l-o-w-l-y so Songweavers could learn it. He translated the words for me. They meant, “I’m singing for God and God sees me. I’m singing for God. He sees me and believes in me.”

Many students wrote thank you notes to us. One said, “Thank you for singing, dancing, playing drums. Good day, good dancing, good group. Come again. God bless you so much.”

We felt blessed that morning singing for these new Americans. Our hearts were touched and opened. We will definitely come again.

Noella described the impact of our visit beautifully.

“As I sat there, watching my students’ faces, I realized in a new way the acute reality of trauma over the lives of refugees. This is why I invited you to come; to remind them of the song that lives within, however dim the spark may be. Witnessing the joy over their faces, swaying bodies, shouts, whistles…was deeply gratifying. But then, I tuned into my own spirit and realized that I was receiving healing too! The terror attack on Paris is still weighing heavily over heart and mind. Your songs awakened joy, the fight to stay in the game with beauty and hope for the future, however dark the horizon may appear. I was reminded of the healing power of music, dance and song. This is language of the spirit! Songweavers brought healing. Thank you.”

 

Dragonflies in November

Dragonflies dance in my studio window.

Dragonflies dance in my studio window.

A small dragonfly just landed on my arm, maybe an inch long with tangerine colored fuzz on its body. The breeze lifts its stick end into the air – the four wings shimmer iridescent in the sun. Its shadow embraces me. It flits off and returns, higher up my bicep. I can see its faceted head flick right and left. Even the wings, unimaginably thin, leave four tan shadows on my skin. Like the dragonfly, I bask in the sun this unseasonably warm November day. We are both absorbing all the light we can.

Now it’s on the back of my hand, a hand that looks like my mother’s, the same knobby knuckles and protruding veins. I can follow the sinuous tubes of my veins as they surface at my wrists and wind across the back of my hands. My mother died two years ago in November. I only have to look at my aging hands to remember her.

Now the dragonfly is over my heart chakra, its six legs, thinner than pencil lines, carefully perched on my t-shirt. Dragonflies are about illusion. In Medicine Cards, Jamie Sams and David Carson write “Dragonfly is the essence of the winds of change, the messages of wisdom and enlightenment, and the communications from the elemental world….It may be time to break down the illusions you have held that restrict your actions or ideas.”

In the fall of my 61st year, it is most definitely time to let go of illusions and restricting beliefs. My mother died of Alzheimers. Her world became progressively more restricted, her once mischievous spirit reduced to a rare twinkle. One illusion I am releasing is the idea that our lives get narrower as we age. I want to become more expansive as I age, more porous at the edge, knowing that my cells mingle with all the cells around me – this turquoise chair, this cotton shirt, this persistent dragonfly.

I want to be present to wisdom and enlightenment, wherever I may find it. This beautiful fuzzy dragonfly landed on me, alighted, and came back six times, staying several minutes each time. I was mesmerized and grateful for this reminder: November is a time of loss – light, leaves, loved ones and illusions, but loss makes room for new ideas and experiences, growth and expansion. I will remember that as the days get darker.