Let me begin this entry by thanking all of you for your thoughtful and thought-filled responses this week. Last year’s retreat lived on throughout 2025 for me, and I’m certain this year’s will buoy 2026. Thank you to Yota for creating this space with such beautiful people to fill it.
Today’s prompt takes me back to where I began this week, walking through my days, being with my family, and being home in my home with fresh senses that aren’t compromised and distracted by the once never-ending tug of my birth-family members, who, simply put, were stuck in the past and wanted me to live there with them. That was the voice of the tug, “Come back, here Connie Sue. Come stay with us in this singular moment in time where it is safe. We can all sit quietly, and if we don’t move, no more bad things will happen.” And every time I moved, I was accused of abandoning them. Literally. And so, I honor all of their journeys, which is not my journey.
Now, I’m allowing myself to honor the journey I have been on, and continue to travel. Much easier to do with the voice of the tug silenced. 2026 will be the first year of my adult life (I will be 60 in 2026, so it has been a long time coming.), in which I can honor that I AM an adult. As I write that, perhaps that has been the biggest issue of it all for me, and I’m sure if asked, my siblings would agree on this one; our parents never respected that we were adults. They didn’t respect any of our adult boundaries or our adult responsibilities to our lives. We simply existed to free them of their adult responsibilities, while the ability to maintain our own lingered and atrophied.
So, I walk into this new year able to build up all the atrophied muscles and extend to myself compassion in knowing that I have taken care of myself and John and Hannah as best I could through difficult times; that I have, upon reflection, achieved much through difficult times, even though those achievements have taken longer and have not been allowed to build upon the momentum they set in motion. My wounds and scars are more internal than external, and I am devoting this year to healing my mind and spirit.
Some, if not most, of that healing, I’m receiving through watching my daughter become the young adult I longed to be. Her wings, unclipped, she is already beginning to fly. I can think of no greater gift to give someone than to say, “This life is yours. Fly with it! The only thing you owe me in return is to discover your heart and follow it with unabandoned joy.” I am giving that gift to my daughter; and beginning this year, to myself as well.
I am lucky my parents allowed us to be adults and journey places they really did not want us to go.
At one point I spent two years in Colorado – a choice they hated- At another point I chose to give up my classroom teaching job and become the school librarian. They thought it was a demotion. But they never nagged or discouraged me from doing it.
It was a very jarring experience for me though when my Mom died to realize I was no longer a child – I couldn’t go home and lie on the couch anymore while Mom made my favorite dinner, I couldn’t revel in the fact that she would grab my dirty laundry and leave me a pile of clean clothes atop my travel bag. I didn’t have anyone standing at the front door waving me goodbye and making sure I got off okay.
I was now the Senior member of our family- a somewhat daunting responsibility.
So being an Adult is not always all it is cracked up to be.
I have two nephews that absolutely love coming home to my sister and brother-in-law’s house here in Delaware. Both live with significant others in other states but love nothing better than to be home for Christmas. And even though the girls are always invited both boys prefer Christmas to be spent alone with their Mom and Dad. There comment ‘Enough of this Adulting!” It cracks me up because they realize the good life for them was and still is being a kid!
Here’s to keeping our adulting kid like !
Oh, Constance, what brave, bold, and beautiful words you wrote. I’m excited for your year, turning 60, walking fully into your adult being, following your heart with “unabandoned joy,” and encouraging your daughter to do the same. A page has turned. Many chapters have closed. You are ready and I can’t wait to see what will unfold for you.
The simultaneous journey you and your daughter are on, side by side though on different paths, is so encouraging and beautiful. She will likely be so grateful to you for how well you have prepared her for a life filled with unabandoned joy. You are indeed returning to your true self. Beautiful entry, Constance.
Constance,
Tara Bach says it all, mirroring that which you have noted you have come to know: “And may whatever has been difficult soften in the light of compassion, opening space for fresh possibilities.”
All your possibilities have waited for you…
For me O’Donohue’s Poem speaks to the place I have found myself this year:
“…open up, to all the small miracles you rushed through
… open the well of color that fostered the brightness of day
Be excessively gentle with yourself.
Learn to linger around someone of ease who feels they have all the time in the world.
Gradually, return to yourself.”
Slowing down, letting things go, not sweating the small stuff yet noticing the little things, being gentle with myself and take care in the relationships which truly support me.
Kim, it sounds like you’ve been in a good place in 2025. Hopefully, 2026 builds upon it all for you, and brings to you the things you’ve been patiently waiting for.
Kim- What beautiful aspects of life to focus on. I so admire your strength and openness to the many challenges you’ve shared with us. But it’s not just the challenges; it’s also how you embrace the little things, which, truthfully, aren’t so little. Being able to “not sweat the small stuff,” be kind to yourself, and nurture your supportive relationships are such lovely ways to be in this crazy world. Here’s to you and a wonderful year ahead.
Kim, over the course of our monthly gatherings, although I do not know the details of your life, I have certainly noticed this about you: your ability to slow down and be softer with yourself, to not rush decisions or actions, giving yourself plenty of time and space to do what is right for you. I think you have embodied the lines of the poem that you highlighted.
‘ May the sweetness of this season remind you of the beauty and goodness that lives
within you and around you. “
I am already feeling that “too much to do” holiday crunch. When I read this line I thought do I even stop to recognize “the sweetness of the season”? What is the “sweetness” for me?
Twinkling white lights everywhere – on homes, on trees, in jars, on mantels!
Sitting by the fireplace and writing notes to people I don’t see often but mean a great deal to me.
Sharing stories of Christmas when we were kids
Finding something that is the perfect gift for someone
Decorating the tree and remembering the story behind each ornament
Baking cookies with friends and marveling at how many we have knocked out in an afternoon.
Listening to Christmas music and singing along at the top of my lungs.
Waking up to lightly falling snow that blankets the lawn.
Watching an old Christmas movie!
Playing games with the gang and laughing at how silly we can be.
Seeing a Christmas Pageant done by little kids
Setting goals and making predictions for 2026!
Lights have already started twinkling around town and later this week I will make them twinkle inside the house. It’s been colder than usual here in Delaware so the fireplace has been reved- up many times and Friday morning I woke up to giant snowflakes falling. It was a perfect day to go to our favorite store, The Brush Factory! The Brush Factory is a unique consignment shop with collections of everything from boutique clothing booths to antique furniture. It’s a true combination of old and new! You see nothing there that is marketed in chain stores or even in online shops. I was very excited to find these trees made from various fabrics and mounted on wooden dowel bases. I created this whole little forest and thought it is just perfect for my friend Ann. Ann is a whiz with a sewing machine, refinishes furniture, loves a new idea and inspiration for a craft, so I knew this gift would be perfect!
I am looking forward to this Christmas because we are staying put here in Delaware! My nephews are coming home and we will have more than one gathering around their game table. Dice games, board games and then I will provide at least one silly game. Babs and I will make “Chubba Bubbas” to send to her family in Texas and then when we are exhausted turn on our favorite holiday movie, The Bells of St Mary’s with Bing Crosby and Ingrid Bergman. We’ll repeat our favorite line at least a dozen times, “If you need anything Sister, just dial O for O’Malley”.
Last year we invited my High School best friends, Ken and Louise, to help decorate our tree. Louise and Ken are Jewish and this was the first time they ever decorated a tree. It was so much fun to watch them try to figure out spots for ornaments. They couldn’t believe how many we had and how they told the story of our travels and things we love- Babs pig ornaments and my snowmen! We hope to make it an annual tradition.
Our family gathering on December 29th won’t be quite as large since my youngest sister is going to Australia with her family, but it still will honor the family gatherings my Mom and Dad so valued. We’ll take bets on who goes “Dino” first. My Mom loved having everyone but at one point before guests arrived she would always lose it and we would shout, “ Dino the Dinosaur is in the house!” I think a few of us inherited that quality!
Babs and I are hosting a New Year’s Day brunch and we’ll all write down our predictions for 2026 and put them away to be reviewed next New Year’s. We’ll laugh about past predictions- the Mets winning the World Series, the Pope dying, and Jesse hitting the baseball from the backyard over the roof of my Mom’s house into the front yard. A feat only he could do.
As we started this retreat we all wrote about home and that is truly where I’ll find the sweetness of the season. So wonderful to take a few minutes to remember that as we hustle and bustle about!
Kathy- I got such a warm feeling as I read your passage. You’re such a vivid writer. While your experiences are uniquely yours, the way you write brings me right in, as if I’ve experienced them, too. Such rich memories and more that you’re making. I love all of your traditions and love of family.
Cozy, warm, loving words emanate from the page. Enjoy your holidays and all that the New Year will bring.
I’d like to echo what Linda said about your writing, Kathy- I found myself wondering, “wait, this sounds familiar, did she tell us about her friends Ken and Louise last year?” It’s as if I’ve experienced this all before, in the best dream-like way possible! Your writing always comes full circle, and I love having this weird little window into your full life. 🙂
Kathleen, you seriously need to write a creative non-fiction/memoir book. I love your stories! They have mood and feeling and place and space and a deep resonance and authority. They abound in human connection, and that makes them so soul satisfying. I feel so grateful to be able to receive the telling of your stories. May your holidays be sweet and twinkling bright!
Surrender is a thought-provoking title for this segment. When I read O’Donahue’s excerpt for the “exhausted one”, I relate less to the tired piece and more to the mindfulness and senses aspect. Although, when I think back over this past year of retreats, there were many times I dozed off during our meditations. At those times, I was tired, and my mind and body needed to rest.
At this particular moment, it’s not exhaustion that I’m feeling. Instead, I’m feeling calm. I had a good amount of spaciousness and no pressure this weekend. It was much needed and appreciated. Over the weekend, Steve and I made some plans for this month and the next few, which I’m excited about. We said “no” to a few invitations, which felt like a beautiful gift. It’s hard to say no sometimes. But life is about choices and where and how we decide to ‘spend’ the precious time we have.
As I read O’Donohue’s words, I appreciated his call to appreciate “slow time,” and the wonders our senses bring. Without slowing down enough to notice. . .
My eyes would miss the magnificent, colorful world, the sight of my favorite color (purple), or my kiddos walking in the door.
My ears would miss the sounds of the ocean, the leaves rustling, soulful music, or my loved one’s voices.
My skin would miss the feel of cashmere sweaters, cozy blankets, velvet, or snuggling with Steve.
My mouth would miss the delicious bites of chocolate, sweet bursts of juicy, green grapes, watermelon, or coffee ice cream.
And my nose would miss the spray of my favorite fragrance, the smell of citrus, pine, or the scent of freshly baked brownies or bread.
NOT rushing is something I love to do. And the older I get, the more I appreciate going more slowly. Engaging in my senses is one of my life’s threads. From a young age, it was how I made sense of the world around me. I still do. Yet now, I appreciate those abilities even more. As my eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be, I’m all too aware that these gifts are not to be taken for granted. They are there to be treasured, loved, and given the time to engage with and appreciate.
Linda, NOT rushing. I just love it. And you experience so much in your slower moments. Your writing made me think of the children’s book Verdi. As a young snake he wanted to play and fling himself from branch to branch. He couldn’t understand the adults who, coiled on a branch, enjoyed the sun and not rushing. Sometimes I think the secret to life is understanding, accepting, and embracing each phase of life we move through. You seem to me to have mastered the grace of shifting and moving through this life.
How on earth do I follow these entries up with anything remotely as thoughtful? Everyone had such interesting, reflective and insightful things to share; reading them was a true pleasure.
“You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.” Thank you, John, for this reminder to examine the ground I was walking -or running- on. False ground seems something that could swiftly and quietly creep up on us, especially now with the connectivity of technology and social media; so much of what we see is fake, in some sense; altered to grab our attention, to squeeze our time, to take our money, drowning us in the quicksand of comparison. There is always so much to *pay* our attention to- how do we choose? I have fallen for these false grounds, thankfully only briefly, but my they can be dangerous. It’s no wonder the soul gets tired these days.
“Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free….
Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.” The thread of nature, and time. In a world that profits off of speeding up time, we need to be active and engaged stewards of our own time.
I also appreciated the term “slow time.” Surrendering to the unfolding of slow time will be my goal for 2026. Reveling in the twinkling lights, the smells of baked goods, the laughter of family and friends, the smell of snow in the air (which is such a tease down here in North Carolina!) I’ll tend to my soul, and give my heart a rest, and maybe I will fall asleep less in our meditations going forward too 😉 TBD.
Ellen, you are such a lovely soul. I hope you know that. I have to admit, I popped in the workshop to see if anyone had posted, and I have less time to get through these as I thought. Please forgive for my rush. I do feel like something big is unfolding for you. Or at least that is the sense I’ve gotten from our Monday nights. I was think of something that is unfolding as something that is revealing itself to us one piece at a time that in its whole, we have acclimated to the gift it is offering. Got to go. See you tonight!
Yota, Thank you for the opportunity to delve into these topics, and to the ‘Gathering Girls’, thank you for sharing, supporting and celebrating each other.
2025 has been a challenge on many fronts for all of us. But we will have survived it, together. Cheers, to us all!!!! ~Kim
Good afternoon All! I wrote a version of the below last night, but my computer glitched when I hit submit and it all got deleted. Rather than remain frustrated at technology, I took the night and am trying again this morning. Looking forward to seeing you all this evening!
There are so many pieces of these writings that resonate with me:
“Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.
Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.”
“Be excessively gentle with yourself.”
“May your heart rest in the remembrance of your belonging – belonging to love, to the earth,
to the great web of life.”
They all transported me back to some point in this past year, where I was either reminding myself of these words or taking a second to soak it in. Witnessing the small miracles of parenthood- Tyler and I taking stock in sleeping through the night or getting through bedtime without a tantrum. Stopping on the sidewalk to watch Kamara turn her face up to the sky and smile in wonder at all the snowflakes drifting down to her. More times than I care to count, reminding myself to be kind and gentle with myself, because, yes, I am enough (thank you for all your kind and supportive words in regards to my sharing about that). Acknowledging that I am but a part of something so vast and beautiful and that I belong to the one’s I love, the same way they belong to me.
And then I realized that although these lines transported me to separate memories, there have been countless times this year where all of them have been true at the same time. Bringing me back to what seems to be my theme, or I guess my thread, for this year- that two things can be true at the same time. Well, I guess many things can be true at the same time- but working with two is all I can handle for this year.
This year has been beautiful and heartbreaking, joyful and tragic, heavy and somehow faster than any before it. All these things are true.
May this coming year be full of what I’ve reflected on here this past week: my village, my belief in myself, and the knowledge that two things can be true at the same time.
20 Comments
Constance Malloy
Let me begin this entry by thanking all of you for your thoughtful and thought-filled responses this week. Last year’s retreat lived on throughout 2025 for me, and I’m certain this year’s will buoy 2026. Thank you to Yota for creating this space with such beautiful people to fill it.
Today’s prompt takes me back to where I began this week, walking through my days, being with my family, and being home in my home with fresh senses that aren’t compromised and distracted by the once never-ending tug of my birth-family members, who, simply put, were stuck in the past and wanted me to live there with them. That was the voice of the tug, “Come back, here Connie Sue. Come stay with us in this singular moment in time where it is safe. We can all sit quietly, and if we don’t move, no more bad things will happen.” And every time I moved, I was accused of abandoning them. Literally. And so, I honor all of their journeys, which is not my journey.
Now, I’m allowing myself to honor the journey I have been on, and continue to travel. Much easier to do with the voice of the tug silenced. 2026 will be the first year of my adult life (I will be 60 in 2026, so it has been a long time coming.), in which I can honor that I AM an adult. As I write that, perhaps that has been the biggest issue of it all for me, and I’m sure if asked, my siblings would agree on this one; our parents never respected that we were adults. They didn’t respect any of our adult boundaries or our adult responsibilities to our lives. We simply existed to free them of their adult responsibilities, while the ability to maintain our own lingered and atrophied.
So, I walk into this new year able to build up all the atrophied muscles and extend to myself compassion in knowing that I have taken care of myself and John and Hannah as best I could through difficult times; that I have, upon reflection, achieved much through difficult times, even though those achievements have taken longer and have not been allowed to build upon the momentum they set in motion. My wounds and scars are more internal than external, and I am devoting this year to healing my mind and spirit.
Some, if not most, of that healing, I’m receiving through watching my daughter become the young adult I longed to be. Her wings, unclipped, she is already beginning to fly. I can think of no greater gift to give someone than to say, “This life is yours. Fly with it! The only thing you owe me in return is to discover your heart and follow it with unabandoned joy.” I am giving that gift to my daughter; and beginning this year, to myself as well.
Kathleen Lauterbach
I am lucky my parents allowed us to be adults and journey places they really did not want us to go.
At one point I spent two years in Colorado – a choice they hated- At another point I chose to give up my classroom teaching job and become the school librarian. They thought it was a demotion. But they never nagged or discouraged me from doing it.
It was a very jarring experience for me though when my Mom died to realize I was no longer a child – I couldn’t go home and lie on the couch anymore while Mom made my favorite dinner, I couldn’t revel in the fact that she would grab my dirty laundry and leave me a pile of clean clothes atop my travel bag. I didn’t have anyone standing at the front door waving me goodbye and making sure I got off okay.
I was now the Senior member of our family- a somewhat daunting responsibility.
So being an Adult is not always all it is cracked up to be.
I have two nephews that absolutely love coming home to my sister and brother-in-law’s house here in Delaware. Both live with significant others in other states but love nothing better than to be home for Christmas. And even though the girls are always invited both boys prefer Christmas to be spent alone with their Mom and Dad. There comment ‘Enough of this Adulting!” It cracks me up because they realize the good life for them was and still is being a kid!
Here’s to keeping our adulting kid like !
Linda Samuels
Oh, Constance, what brave, bold, and beautiful words you wrote. I’m excited for your year, turning 60, walking fully into your adult being, following your heart with “unabandoned joy,” and encouraging your daughter to do the same. A page has turned. Many chapters have closed. You are ready and I can’t wait to see what will unfold for you.
Ellen Hanley
The simultaneous journey you and your daughter are on, side by side though on different paths, is so encouraging and beautiful. She will likely be so grateful to you for how well you have prepared her for a life filled with unabandoned joy. You are indeed returning to your true self. Beautiful entry, Constance.
Constance Malloy
My loves!
Kim Cartwright
Constance,
Tara Bach says it all, mirroring that which you have noted you have come to know: “And may whatever has been difficult soften in the light of compassion, opening space for fresh possibilities.”
All your possibilities have waited for you…
Kim Cartwright
For me O’Donohue’s Poem speaks to the place I have found myself this year:
“…open up, to all the small miracles you rushed through
… open the well of color that fostered the brightness of day
Be excessively gentle with yourself.
Learn to linger around someone of ease who feels they have all the time in the world.
Gradually, return to yourself.”
Slowing down, letting things go, not sweating the small stuff yet noticing the little things, being gentle with myself and take care in the relationships which truly support me.
Constance Malloy
Kim, it sounds like you’ve been in a good place in 2025. Hopefully, 2026 builds upon it all for you, and brings to you the things you’ve been patiently waiting for.
Linda Samuels
Kim- What beautiful aspects of life to focus on. I so admire your strength and openness to the many challenges you’ve shared with us. But it’s not just the challenges; it’s also how you embrace the little things, which, truthfully, aren’t so little. Being able to “not sweat the small stuff,” be kind to yourself, and nurture your supportive relationships are such lovely ways to be in this crazy world. Here’s to you and a wonderful year ahead.
Ellen Hanley
Kim, over the course of our monthly gatherings, although I do not know the details of your life, I have certainly noticed this about you: your ability to slow down and be softer with yourself, to not rush decisions or actions, giving yourself plenty of time and space to do what is right for you. I think you have embodied the lines of the poem that you highlighted.
Kathleen Lauterbach
‘ May the sweetness of this season remind you of the beauty and goodness that lives
within you and around you. “
I am already feeling that “too much to do” holiday crunch. When I read this line I thought do I even stop to recognize “the sweetness of the season”? What is the “sweetness” for me?
Twinkling white lights everywhere – on homes, on trees, in jars, on mantels!
Sitting by the fireplace and writing notes to people I don’t see often but mean a great deal to me.
Sharing stories of Christmas when we were kids
Finding something that is the perfect gift for someone
Decorating the tree and remembering the story behind each ornament
Baking cookies with friends and marveling at how many we have knocked out in an afternoon.
Listening to Christmas music and singing along at the top of my lungs.
Waking up to lightly falling snow that blankets the lawn.
Watching an old Christmas movie!
Playing games with the gang and laughing at how silly we can be.
Seeing a Christmas Pageant done by little kids
Setting goals and making predictions for 2026!
Lights have already started twinkling around town and later this week I will make them twinkle inside the house. It’s been colder than usual here in Delaware so the fireplace has been reved- up many times and Friday morning I woke up to giant snowflakes falling. It was a perfect day to go to our favorite store, The Brush Factory! The Brush Factory is a unique consignment shop with collections of everything from boutique clothing booths to antique furniture. It’s a true combination of old and new! You see nothing there that is marketed in chain stores or even in online shops. I was very excited to find these trees made from various fabrics and mounted on wooden dowel bases. I created this whole little forest and thought it is just perfect for my friend Ann. Ann is a whiz with a sewing machine, refinishes furniture, loves a new idea and inspiration for a craft, so I knew this gift would be perfect!
I am looking forward to this Christmas because we are staying put here in Delaware! My nephews are coming home and we will have more than one gathering around their game table. Dice games, board games and then I will provide at least one silly game. Babs and I will make “Chubba Bubbas” to send to her family in Texas and then when we are exhausted turn on our favorite holiday movie, The Bells of St Mary’s with Bing Crosby and Ingrid Bergman. We’ll repeat our favorite line at least a dozen times, “If you need anything Sister, just dial O for O’Malley”.
Last year we invited my High School best friends, Ken and Louise, to help decorate our tree. Louise and Ken are Jewish and this was the first time they ever decorated a tree. It was so much fun to watch them try to figure out spots for ornaments. They couldn’t believe how many we had and how they told the story of our travels and things we love- Babs pig ornaments and my snowmen! We hope to make it an annual tradition.
Our family gathering on December 29th won’t be quite as large since my youngest sister is going to Australia with her family, but it still will honor the family gatherings my Mom and Dad so valued. We’ll take bets on who goes “Dino” first. My Mom loved having everyone but at one point before guests arrived she would always lose it and we would shout, “ Dino the Dinosaur is in the house!” I think a few of us inherited that quality!
Babs and I are hosting a New Year’s Day brunch and we’ll all write down our predictions for 2026 and put them away to be reviewed next New Year’s. We’ll laugh about past predictions- the Mets winning the World Series, the Pope dying, and Jesse hitting the baseball from the backyard over the roof of my Mom’s house into the front yard. A feat only he could do.
As we started this retreat we all wrote about home and that is truly where I’ll find the sweetness of the season. So wonderful to take a few minutes to remember that as we hustle and bustle about!
Linda Samuels
Kathy- I got such a warm feeling as I read your passage. You’re such a vivid writer. While your experiences are uniquely yours, the way you write brings me right in, as if I’ve experienced them, too. Such rich memories and more that you’re making. I love all of your traditions and love of family.
Cozy, warm, loving words emanate from the page. Enjoy your holidays and all that the New Year will bring.
Ellen Hanley
I’d like to echo what Linda said about your writing, Kathy- I found myself wondering, “wait, this sounds familiar, did she tell us about her friends Ken and Louise last year?” It’s as if I’ve experienced this all before, in the best dream-like way possible! Your writing always comes full circle, and I love having this weird little window into your full life. 🙂
Constance Malloy
Kathleen, you seriously need to write a creative non-fiction/memoir book. I love your stories! They have mood and feeling and place and space and a deep resonance and authority. They abound in human connection, and that makes them so soul satisfying. I feel so grateful to be able to receive the telling of your stories. May your holidays be sweet and twinkling bright!
Linda Samuels
Surrender is a thought-provoking title for this segment. When I read O’Donahue’s excerpt for the “exhausted one”, I relate less to the tired piece and more to the mindfulness and senses aspect. Although, when I think back over this past year of retreats, there were many times I dozed off during our meditations. At those times, I was tired, and my mind and body needed to rest.
At this particular moment, it’s not exhaustion that I’m feeling. Instead, I’m feeling calm. I had a good amount of spaciousness and no pressure this weekend. It was much needed and appreciated. Over the weekend, Steve and I made some plans for this month and the next few, which I’m excited about. We said “no” to a few invitations, which felt like a beautiful gift. It’s hard to say no sometimes. But life is about choices and where and how we decide to ‘spend’ the precious time we have.
As I read O’Donohue’s words, I appreciated his call to appreciate “slow time,” and the wonders our senses bring. Without slowing down enough to notice. . .
My eyes would miss the magnificent, colorful world, the sight of my favorite color (purple), or my kiddos walking in the door.
My ears would miss the sounds of the ocean, the leaves rustling, soulful music, or my loved one’s voices.
My skin would miss the feel of cashmere sweaters, cozy blankets, velvet, or snuggling with Steve.
My mouth would miss the delicious bites of chocolate, sweet bursts of juicy, green grapes, watermelon, or coffee ice cream.
And my nose would miss the spray of my favorite fragrance, the smell of citrus, pine, or the scent of freshly baked brownies or bread.
NOT rushing is something I love to do. And the older I get, the more I appreciate going more slowly. Engaging in my senses is one of my life’s threads. From a young age, it was how I made sense of the world around me. I still do. Yet now, I appreciate those abilities even more. As my eyesight isn’t as good as it used to be, I’m all too aware that these gifts are not to be taken for granted. They are there to be treasured, loved, and given the time to engage with and appreciate.
Constance Malloy
Linda, NOT rushing. I just love it. And you experience so much in your slower moments. Your writing made me think of the children’s book Verdi. As a young snake he wanted to play and fling himself from branch to branch. He couldn’t understand the adults who, coiled on a branch, enjoyed the sun and not rushing. Sometimes I think the secret to life is understanding, accepting, and embracing each phase of life we move through. You seem to me to have mastered the grace of shifting and moving through this life.
Ellen Hanley
How on earth do I follow these entries up with anything remotely as thoughtful? Everyone had such interesting, reflective and insightful things to share; reading them was a true pleasure.
“You have traveled too fast over false ground;
Now your soul has come to take you back.” Thank you, John, for this reminder to examine the ground I was walking -or running- on. False ground seems something that could swiftly and quietly creep up on us, especially now with the connectivity of technology and social media; so much of what we see is fake, in some sense; altered to grab our attention, to squeeze our time, to take our money, drowning us in the quicksand of comparison. There is always so much to *pay* our attention to- how do we choose? I have fallen for these false grounds, thankfully only briefly, but my they can be dangerous. It’s no wonder the soul gets tired these days.
“Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free….
Draw alongside the silence of stone
Until its calmness can claim you.” The thread of nature, and time. In a world that profits off of speeding up time, we need to be active and engaged stewards of our own time.
I also appreciated the term “slow time.” Surrendering to the unfolding of slow time will be my goal for 2026. Reveling in the twinkling lights, the smells of baked goods, the laughter of family and friends, the smell of snow in the air (which is such a tease down here in North Carolina!) I’ll tend to my soul, and give my heart a rest, and maybe I will fall asleep less in our meditations going forward too 😉 TBD.
Constance Malloy
Ellen, you are such a lovely soul. I hope you know that. I have to admit, I popped in the workshop to see if anyone had posted, and I have less time to get through these as I thought. Please forgive for my rush. I do feel like something big is unfolding for you. Or at least that is the sense I’ve gotten from our Monday nights. I was think of something that is unfolding as something that is revealing itself to us one piece at a time that in its whole, we have acclimated to the gift it is offering. Got to go. See you tonight!
Kim Cartwright
Yota, Thank you for the opportunity to delve into these topics, and to the ‘Gathering Girls’, thank you for sharing, supporting and celebrating each other.
2025 has been a challenge on many fronts for all of us. But we will have survived it, together. Cheers, to us all!!!! ~Kim
Sarah Lipscomb
Good afternoon All! I wrote a version of the below last night, but my computer glitched when I hit submit and it all got deleted. Rather than remain frustrated at technology, I took the night and am trying again this morning. Looking forward to seeing you all this evening!
There are so many pieces of these writings that resonate with me:
“Take refuge in your senses, open up
To all the small miracles you rushed through.
Become inclined to watch the way of rain
When it falls slow and free.”
“Be excessively gentle with yourself.”
“May your heart rest in the remembrance of your belonging – belonging to love, to the earth,
to the great web of life.”
They all transported me back to some point in this past year, where I was either reminding myself of these words or taking a second to soak it in. Witnessing the small miracles of parenthood- Tyler and I taking stock in sleeping through the night or getting through bedtime without a tantrum. Stopping on the sidewalk to watch Kamara turn her face up to the sky and smile in wonder at all the snowflakes drifting down to her. More times than I care to count, reminding myself to be kind and gentle with myself, because, yes, I am enough (thank you for all your kind and supportive words in regards to my sharing about that). Acknowledging that I am but a part of something so vast and beautiful and that I belong to the one’s I love, the same way they belong to me.
And then I realized that although these lines transported me to separate memories, there have been countless times this year where all of them have been true at the same time. Bringing me back to what seems to be my theme, or I guess my thread, for this year- that two things can be true at the same time. Well, I guess many things can be true at the same time- but working with two is all I can handle for this year.
This year has been beautiful and heartbreaking, joyful and tragic, heavy and somehow faster than any before it. All these things are true.
May this coming year be full of what I’ve reflected on here this past week: my village, my belief in myself, and the knowledge that two things can be true at the same time.