Why the most powerful thing your body does happens in the spaces you have been taught to rush through I remember once, as a bored teenager, complaining that I wanted time to hurry up and get past. On to the next thing. There was an elder in the room, a friend of my grandfather’s. He said in his slow, methodical drawl, “You know, every time you wish something on, you wish away part of your life.” It landed. And frequently, decades later, I think about that interaction when I c

I am in the middle of making some big decisions, right now. The kind that rearrange the shape of a life. And every cell in me wants to rush toward resolution, because the unknown is uncomfortable, and clarity feels like relief. But here is a little something I've learned, slowly and sometimes reluctantly: the best decisions I've ever made were the ones I let breathe for a full moon cycle before acting. To be honest, the first time someone suggested I wait 29 days before makin

I’ve been craving bitter greens for a couple of weeks. Sharp, astringent, alive things. And, if I’m paying attention, I realize my body has been asking for vinegar and fermented vegetables and the kind of food that cuts through heaviness. Something in me wants lighter broths, sprouts, green and growing things. I want to chew on something that tastes like the earth waking up. Mmmm…. And then I look out my window where it is still under the pall of winter. The ground is frozen.

The other day I was speaking with an acquaintance, and she said, sort of to me but not really to me, that she had to stop reading the news because it made her feel even more fully like she was not part of this world. Potentially not even from this planet, she said. She laughed when she said it, the way women laugh when they are telling the truth and need it to land softly. I, of course, responded with a pithy, "tell me about it." And we moved on. But, you know, I could feel t

Recently, I was involved in a conversation that included discussion of scarcity mentality. Scarcity mentality is this deeply embedded belief that resources are finite and therefore we must fight for them. It’s a conversation that comes up frequently in the wellness world, and for good reason: when we are operating from scarcity mentality, our nervous system is in survival mode. That’s fight-or-flight chemistry. And over time, that chemistry becomes full-system destructive. Co

Joseph Campbell believed that we weren't searching for meaning so much as we were searching for the rapture of being alive. I tend to agree. On October 14, 1998, at 3:15 in the afternoon, I was attending a weekend intensive on Sensory Awareness for my master's program. After spending the first 24 hours honing our ability to stay present with our senses, almost as a martial art, we were all handed tangerines. The instructions were simple: eat it while remaining in direct senso

The other day I was on the treadmill just feeling the groove of a nice little jog, looking out the window, watching the snowfall, everything was smooth. And then I received a phone call that instantly changed my chemistry. "The power is out in the barn." Now, that might not seem like a big statement but, it is winter, temperatures are freezing so if you care for animals, you know how that sentence lands. My chemistry moved before my mind did. No heat? No water? Frozen pipes?

The Art and Science of Anchoring The other morning, I was on my way to the barn. Truth be told, I was feeling slightly irritated. Nothing dramatic. Just… a little out of sorts. And since I know animals feel that — they read coherence, or the lack of it, instantly — I realized that before I entered their domain, I should probably get myself together. So I stopped. Hand on my heart. Three slow breaths. One word — silently. And as I knew it would, something in me gathered. First

Have you ever watched a small child examine something on the ground?   Maybe a bug, or an interesting piece of dirt, or a crack in the sidewalk that suddenly demands their full attention. Notice the posture they adopt. Knees bent or folded under. Face close. Whole body oriented toward this one small thing.   Nothing else exists for that moment — not the errands, not the schedule, not the adults waiting impatiently nearby. Just this. Just curiosity, fully embodied.   Can you r

Last week we talked about the truth bell—that embodied knowing that rings when something is real, and how we've learned to override it. This week, I want to go deeper into something I mentioned: multidimensional coherence. What does that actually mean? And why does it matter for hearing the bell more clearly? You Are a Living System Here's the thing: you're not a single instrument. You're an entire orchestra. Or more precisely, you're a living system—countless smaller systems

Why coherence—not more information—is the antidote to the AI age The other day, I heard someone say that over the next two years, the fog of AI will become so thick that if your plane isn't already in the air, you'll be grounded. I felt the truth of that in my body before my mind could argue with it. We're already seeing it, aren't we? The deep fakes. The fake news. The growing sense that we can't trust what we see, what we read, or sometimes even what we think we know. My cl

In the world of subtle energy, we understand these experiences in relation to the idea of “fields.”