Messages & Channelings

Yesterday, when I went downstairs to work out in our basement, I discovered that my husband Michael had moved a large piece of equipment to another part of the room.

Sometimes we gain wisdom from the most unexpected places. Last week I had my buttons pushed when I stumbled upon an exchange on Facebook about my work.

It was 6:30 am when the early light hit my eyes and I woke to another dog day of summer destined to reach 100 degrees. Challenging weather provides a wonderful opportunity to see...

Looking out the window at my withering garden, I long for time to slow down, but I know better. It’s not about time; it’s about me. I need to plant my feet in the present moment.

After more than a year of meditating every day, I’m still amazed at how often I’m somewhere else rather than where I am at any given moment. This morning, while chopping Brussel sprouts, I visited London, had a one-sided disagreement with a former colleague..

It was warm, 75 degrees, and rather humid for a spring day. I stood at the shoreline ready to take a plunge with my friend Libby, when she offered a challenge: “I’m going to stay in for ten minutes but if you don’t feel up to it, no worries.”

Last year, I shared a note I wrote to myself when we first went into lockdown for the pandemic. I used it to stay focused on self-care when I felt stressed so I’d remain helpful to myself and others. 

There’s a memory I hang onto when times are hard and I find it difficult to feel grateful. I’m 24 years old standing in a bathroom no bigger than a linen closet, staring at my bloodshot eyes in a mirror.

Last week I received an email from a longtime reader who wanted me to know she was unsubscribing because of my newsletter about Ruth Bader Ginsburg. She was polite. She expressed appreciation for all the years of support my words had provided.

There’s nothing like a mandate to stay in one place to help us see how neurotic the mind can be. These days, as I spend most of my time at home, I’ve made it a practice to carefully watch my thoughts.