I can’t be the only person on this planet who has struggled with holding the pain of grief and “thanks-giving” at the same time. Just today, I heard an ad on the radio outlining the things we should be grateful for. That one word, “should,” got my back up. Gratitude has become a buzz word, and I’ve often wondered how many people (myself included) really understand what gratitude is? In our busy distracted world I wonder if people really do feel and experience a deep sense of thankfulness and appreciation instead of just saying they do? Especially in the face of loss and grief. Back in October 2006, I attended our annual family thanksgiving dinner fill with dread. All 40 of us circle around the room and state what we are thankful for. That year, I had nothing. Cam died 4 months prior, I was overcome by the largeness of my loss. As CS Lewis wrote in A Grief Observed, about his wife’s death, “her absence is like the sky, spread over everything.” There was a lot I should have said, and even could have said, but I didn’t. I could have said, “I am grateful for my health,” but instead I agonized over, “Why wasn’t he healthy?” I could have said, “I’m thankful for having him in my life,” which simply reinforced how much I lost and how much I still wanted him in my life. I could have said, “I’m grateful for my family,” but the only person I was looking for in that crowded room was him. Gratefulness felt trite. Empty. Impossible. Earlier that October day I had been sitting outside in the fall sunshine. I closed my eyes and absorbed the warmth of the sun. I could smell the crispness of fall in the air. I heard the flap of a bird’s wings as it flew overhead and stared in awe at the mere fact I just heard a bird flying. I felt something in those experiences. I absorbed, smelt, heard, and felt awe. But, I can’t say I took the time to appreciate them. And yet, looking back, these glimpses of experiences that were so small brought large amounts relief and reprieve. Now I see that what I needed at the time was to not only understand the power of gratitude but to shift my expectations of it. To forget what the world thinks I SHOULD be grateful for and find things that move me to a natural state of deep appreciation and kindness…and beyond that, recognize that state as gratitude itself. In wrestling with this over the years, I have learnt some valuable lessons about how to make gratitude a more accessible experience even in the face of grief. 1. Be flexible with your expectations around gratitude. Gratitude is malleable, and your perception of gratitude will change depending on life circumstances. There may be times in your life when your gratefulness spans life-times and relationships, and there may be other times when you are grateful to get through a moment. For example, when you are healthy, it’s easy to say, “I’m grateful for good health.” After a life threatening diagnosis, your expectation of gratitude may change to being grateful for good lab results, or a good report from a surgeon. Your benchmark of gratitude has shifted and this flexibility allows you to find gratitude despite challenging situations. 2. Slow down enough to notice the small things. Think of gratitude as a practice of mindfulness. On my daily dog walk I could go over projects, to do lists, mentally solve all my problems and do all my thinking, but instead of being “mind full” I try to be mindful. I try to get out of my head and into my body. I engage my senses and take the time to notice the beauty around me; to see the slanted light shining through a grove of trees or the red fall leaves against a bright blue sky, hear the crunch of snow under my boot on an otherwise silent morning, smell the pine tree as I walk under it, the relief and release I feel after in my chest and shoulders after a deep sigh. Instead of these small things going un-noticed, they become an intentional exercise in appreciation. Thich Nhat Hanh says, "People usually consider walking on water or in thin air a miracle. But I think the real miracle is not to walk either on water or in thin air, but to walk on earth. Every day we are engaged in a miracle which we don't even recognize: a blue sky, white clouds, green leaves, the black, curious eyes of a child - our own two eyes. All is a miracle." 3. Let it sink in. Take the small things and the beautiful things, and make them big things. Be open to feeling the shift in perception when something sparks that fire of appreciation and relief within you. That spark is what we are grateful for – it’s a feeling, a visceral response that brings us much-needed reprieve… 4. Understand that gratefulness is not about denial of loss and grief. Alternatively, we become more aware of the fullness of life – the beauty and the pain. Holding both means full engagement of the heart, full compassion, full living. Zora Neale Hurston captured both profound life and profound gratitude when she said, “I have been in Sorrow's kitchen and licked out all the pots. Then I have stood on the peaky mountain wrapped in rainbows, with a harp and sword in my hands.” This thanksgiving, take time to slow down, and notice the small things. Gratitude helps to build courage, resilience, feelings of connection and well-being and sometimes we have to be intentional about finding these moments and letting them grace us. Warmly, Sandy On the topic of Gratitude, I have found these sites invaluable: http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ashley-davis-bush/happiness-tips_b_3790758.html http://www.ashleydavisbush.com/general/its-all-about-beauty/ http://www.gratefulness.org/index.htm http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tDVF4x8h-8I
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Today, Sept 22 marks the Autumn Equinox. A time of year when the tilt of the earth is neither towards nor away from the sun. We experience this as having equal amounts of daylight hours, to nighttime hours. In fact, the name "equinox" is derived from the Latin aequus (equal) and nox (night). Equinox is literally a time of balance - the earth is balanced on its axis, and light/dark is balanced. It can also be viewed as a time to reflect upon the metaphorical balance within our lives. The key word being balance – a state of equilibrium, steadiness, stability, and harmony. Taking a moment to reflect on your life, in what areas do you feel balanced? Unbalanced? In the realms of grief and suffering, do you feel able to compassionately find balance between the darkness and lightness of your experience? In reflecting on the possibility of balancing the darkness and light of your life, it’s important to humbly remember that you can’t have one without the other. The depth of your grief (darkness) reflects the depth of your love (light). You wouldn’t see the light of the moon if the sky weren’t dark. You would never experience the bright warmth of a spring thaw, if you didn’t endure a cold dark winter. When you think back to a joyful memory of a loved one, you may laugh and then cry because both the joy and the pain are equally valuable representations of the effect of that person’s life on your own. I’ve come to know that darkness is the chair on which light sits. I remember the first time I felt “light” after Cam died. It was during a meditation and yoga retreat. We were doing a walking meditation, and I noticed an overwhelming sense of lightness and openness in my hips. I felt like I was floating, but at the same time so deeply connected to my body. I was completely entranced by this feeling of lightness – it felt new, different, and wonderful compared to the darkness that had overtaken my life for the previous 6 months. In those moments, the feeling of lightness and openness in my hips, morphed into such gratitude and wonder at the miracle of my body, and the depth of sensation. It was such a striking contrast to the heaviness and disconnection I had been feeling. I remember feeling both surprised and hopeful that there was joy buried beneath the layers of grief. Despite this good feeling/bad feeling perception, I have learnt that healing grief requires movement towards your pain and suffering…which means an intentional willingness to embrace your pain and sit in darkness. Dark Night of The Soul stuff. That, however, doesn’t eliminate the opportunity for finding some light. Even if it’s just noticing the warmth of the sun on your back, watching a bird float on the breeze, eating a tart juicy raspberry. In fact, it’s those moments of mindfulness and awareness that can bring much reprieve and calm in the middle of a storm. It was a wonderful lesson, feeling light in my walking meditation. For me, it has been a practice in “intentional attention,” because, for some reason, it seems that pain is more noticeable, and more easily remembered than feelings of contentment or ease or happiness. Simply making that observation has been instrumental in giving experiences that are light more focused attention. I’m more open to noticing it, and intentional about really experiencing it. I believe that yoga and meditation are doorways into experiencing balance. You develop physical, muscular and postural balance. You learn ways to bring lightness and openness to the body – through movement and breath. You develop equanimity towards your emotions and thoughts by experiencing their flow, and their impermance. Perhaps most importantly, you are invited to slow down enough to notice it all. The equinox is the perfect time to reflect on balance in your life. In Autumn, it’s an opportunity to look backward to reflect on the fullness and abundance of your harvest; and look ahead into the next season of fading sunlight and increasing darkness and contemplating what that means in your life as well. Why is this important? Because when we are in a state of balance we are stronger, steadier and more able to find resilience within ourselves. And I think everyone would agree, feeling good feels good. Part of loving yourself, is giving yourself permission to do just that! Make space to hold both. Namaste. Sandy Be courageous, care for others, a hero lives in you. - Allison Crowther - I went to our city's 9/11 Memorial Service and Fire Fighters Memorial today. One of the first speakers to speak, made a point that has stood out for the rest of my day and has impacted my perspective immensly. She said, for as much tragedy that there is in this world there is as much help, heros, love and support.
It's obvious, we live in a world where fear, tragedy and loss is all to prevalent and common. You can't watch the news without hearing something devastating. It's easy to get wrapped up, and immobilized in the fear and heart- break of it all. Seeing all the Fire Fighters at the memorial - both on duty, off duty and retired, was a timely reminder that there are heros in our midst, all the time! There are people who put their lives on the line to save others. There are people who hold hands in solidarity. People who pray. People who hug. People who love. People who protect. People who are in service to others out of altruism and compassion. There is goodness. There is light. There is hope. It was beautiful and heart warming how members of the Fire Service, families and friends came out today to recognize all those who have lost their lives. All the brothers and sisters who give so much of themselves, for the well being of others. Time was taken to remember the lives of all Edmonton Fire Department members who have died in the line of duty - their names were called and a bell rung in their honour. All members who have died in the past year - their families were presented with a flag and again, a bell was rung in their honour. It was such a wonderful visusal to have row after row of Fire Fighters, in their Dress Uniforms marching in formation and standing behind and standing for their comrades, and families who were receiving recognition today. We remembered 9/11 and all the lives lost. We remembered the 19 Fire Fighters who were killed in Arizona this summer. We remembered. By remembering we honour. Re-member. We re-organize. We re-live. We re-member ourselves as communities. As families. As co-workers. When we remember, we re-member ourselves and others. The whole ceremony was so touching. The music of the bag-pipes and drums moved me to tears. Just like it's supposed to - music moves us from our heads to our hearts, from thinking to feeling. The formality of the Fire Fighters in formation was both humbling and awe inspiriing. Seeing the active duty crews and retirees show up and be present was a show of solidarity, and support for one and for all. I left feeling sad for all the lives lost and acknowleged and remembered. I also felt hopeful. Hopeful that as long as communities such as these come together each year to remember and honour those lives lost through ceremony and ritual, the lives of those whose death affected will be so much more supported and rich as a result. Hopeful that these honouring traditions will take root in more areas of our communities and even families. Hopeful that love can be spread from person to person, city to city, country to country in showing of support in grief and loss. Namaste, Sandy This past week, much of the southern part of our province was devastated by floods. Including the area and trail we were planning to go to hang our prayer flags. A disaster of this scale, epic porportions, made the decision unquestionable - we weren't going near it. Safety was our primary concern, as well as staying away for the emergency workers to do their jobs. However, being the anniversary of Cam's death, it felt really important to do something. So we changed our plans and went north to Jasper National Park. Our trip turned into a spontaneous adventure - not quite sure what we would do, or where we would stay. In the end, our weekend turned out perfect. I would hazard a guess that it worked out better than the trip we had planned. We hiked up the Bald Hills trail in Jasper, which has become my new favourite trail! We reached the top, had a picnic, and then rested in the meadow - taking a wee savasana. We honoured solstice and Aborigonal day with an Iroquois Prayer of Thanksgiving for the Earth while sitting on a mountain top overlooking Maligne Lake. After dinner, we hiked up to Mount Edith Cavell and sat beneath Angel Glacier at sunset, surrounded and protected by massive, powerful guardians of rock and ice. We hung our prayer flags there to be infused with the energy and light of the "supermoon" over night - the closest and largest full moon of 2013. That night, we stayed at the Edith Cavell Rustic Hostel, on bunk beds, with a wood burning fire glowing in the stove. The next day, we went back to Edith Cavell to get our prayer flags. We wanted to bring them home, hang them in the yard, and be close to them for a while. And, as if that wasn't enough, we made one last pit stop at Athabasca Falls. There is something so powerful about being in places that render you speechless for their beauty and power. Our weekend was so deep. So honouring. I felt I had nurtured my mind, body and spirit. It was my yoga.
In A Grief Observed by CS Lewis he writes, "There was no sudden, striking and emotional transition. Like the warming of a room or the coming of daylight, when you first notice them they have already been going on for some time." And, when I look back on the past 7 years - the steps forwards and the steps backward - I see that there has been net gain towards integration and understanding how grief has forever changed me...and what my changed self needs to find ways to honour that which has changed me... ...like the way a glacier carves it's way through rock - changing the landscape forever... ...like the way a mountain meadow bursts with wildflowers, seemingly with no warning except warmer days... ...the rhythms and cycles of nature...seasons...full moons...dawn...dusk... ....cold rooms warmed by glowing fires...prayer flags... Namaste, Sandy The hardest part of making my prayer flag was deciding which prayer to use! I had a number in the running, and finally decided on one that I've used on a regular basis in my own life. It's the Zen Night Chant from the Upaya Zen Center: "Life and death are of supreme importance. Time passes swifty and opportunity is lost. Let us awaken Awaken... Do not squander your life." I relate to this prayer both in my own life, and as a wish for the people of the world. It speaks to what I have learned about how I want to live and love, understanding that life hangs on by a thread and things can change in an instant. It speaks to the power of grief to awaken the fires of truth and compassion within, recognizing that hearts break...break open...leaving an opportunity for growth and healing. It just felt right to use this prayer - it felt easy to infuse the flag with all the depth and wisdom I read between the lines. And so the creating began.... First, I had to buy a vintage train case to hold all my supplies....Ok, maybe not an essential step, but a FUN step. I wanted something that I could hold everything in easily, and something that was easy to transport. Voila. It's perfect. And cute. Next I chose the material. Traditionally prayer flags are bright, but I felt drawn to more earthy colors, so I chose a light beige as the base color, with brighter accents. I cut a piece of material 5" x 11" and then folded the top edge over 2" ish and pinned it. This will become the casing where the string will be threaded through to tie the flag to a tree. Then I used a simple running stitch to close the top casing. It doesn't look as professional as a if were sewn by a machine, but I kind of like the "homemade" feel to it. Considering this, I also did not hem the sides and bottom of the flag, but I suppose you could if you had a sewing machine. I left the bottom edge of my flag slightly frayed - it made it look a little more used or natural or...something.... For the accents, I cut two smaller squares of a sheer aqua blue material, to be glued onto the flag as an inset; one to write my prayer on, and the other to draw* a tree. * By "draw" I mean that I printed a drawing of a tree from the internet and used it as a template to trace onto the material. I may be creative, but I'm no artist. The tree is symbolic of a verse from a poem that I love by E.E. Cummings called I Carry Your Heart: "...here is the deepest secret nobody knows (here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide) and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart..." And, finally I put it all together. I glued on my insets with the prayer and tree. To brighten it up, I decided to cut out a yellow flower, and to sew on a red button. Yellow because it is a color I find cheerful, and a red because it feels primal and instinctual. Lastly, I threaded a piece of twine through the top casing and my flag is officially complete! Next weekend is our trip to Vision Quest Ridge in Nordegg, Alberta. I'm packing this flag and will hike it up to an ancient vision quest site where I will tie it in a tree to spread my prayer with the wind. Next time you see it, it will be blowing in the wind.
Until then... Be well, Sandy This June will mark the 7th year since the death that changed the trajectory of my life. I struggle with what to "do" on the "anniversary." The date always seems to loom just around the corner marking time. Nonetheless, it is significant. It's the day I changed. It's the day I was uprooted, and eventually replanted with the wisdom in my bones that death brings. It's how I got here, teaching yoga for grief support and being drawn to walk alongside others who have experienced a loss. I decided a few years back that I wanted to go to the mountains each June, to reflect on my own experience of loss and growth, in a place where I can immerse myself in the vastness and wonder of it all. This year, at summer solstice, I'm going to hike "Vision Quest Ridge" in Nordegg, Alberta. A short, steep hike to panoramic views of the Rocky Mountains and Abraham Lake. As per the name, this hike passes an old vision quest site, which drew me in. It seemed supportive and appropriate that we would be on ancient native land, where so many people before have been to seek spiritual guidance and purpose. You can see photos of it by clicking here. I've heard from others who have done this hike that there are prayer flags tied in a tree to mark the site. That inspired me to take a prayer flag with me, to create ritual and ceremony around the intention of my hike. I've seen them for purchase at a variety of stores, but I hesitated to buy one for myself because I didn't understand the deeper meaning of the symbols and prayers inscribed upon them. Nevertheless, I love the image of prayer flags strung along high mountain ridges with the wind carrying the prayer across the land and to all beings. I knew that if I were to hang a prayer flag on this hike up Vision Quest Ridge, it would have to be a wish that arose from my heart about love and loss, life and death. So, I thought, "why not make my own?" A quick google search revealed that, not only is it fairly easy, it's something (I think) I can do! So I went to a fabric store and I bought small scraps of fabric - which is actually quite cheap. You can "fill a bag" with scrap material for $8.00. I chose any piece that "spoke" to me - both in colour and in texture. I also bought a small sewing kit, some fabric adhesive, and even some embellishments like patches, and buttons. The grand total for my prayer flag project kit = $25.00. My next step is to be quiet and still and listen to what arises. What prayer do I want to share? What do I want to be carried to the top of a mountain by me, and then carried across the lands by the wind? I'll update this blog on my progress and will also submit my final flag to The Prayer Flag Project; which is "a collective project spreading peace, goodwill and kindness, one flag at a time." This project was created in 2011 by Vivika Hansen DeNegre. She invites people from around the world to create their own flags and hang them outside, to have the sentiments carried by the wind to all the wind touches. She then posts photos of each flag on her blog. A virtual sharing of the prayer, I suppose. It's beautiful. Stay tuned...I'll keep you posted on my progress. Until next time....when the sewing begins... Namaste, Sandy August 17th 2006 This week in the Yoga for Grief Support class our topic was understanding the physical symptoms of grief.
From what I have learnt in my own journey and through yoga and grief training, I have come to understand that the body experiences grief in its own way. It has its own way of talking and of expressing the hurt and pain of grief. It's the body saying "I'm hurt." These physical symptoms of grief are just like the symptoms of a cold (a sore throat and runny nose) telling your body that it needs special attention. When you get a cold, you rest more, drink more fluids and take the time to get well. The same is true with the body in grief. It's wisdom is telling you to take special care of yourself...Our practice is one of learning to listen. Some physical symptoms of grief include:
I can list some general symptoms of how the body experiences grief, but beyond that it becomes a personal journey of paying attention, listening and having compassion towards your hurting body. Every body is different. Every loss is different. Every individual journey is different. These symptoms cannot be prescribed to anyone. It is a matter of feeling your own body and being curious about what you feel and why. I came across the journal excerpt above this afternoon. It is an excellent example of making my own meaning from my experience...from feeling my body, and relating it to how I was feeling in a broad, all encompassing sense - difficulty and strain in "holding myself up." I truly believe that we all have our own answers, and given the time and space to explore we can make our own movement, and find our own way. Sometimes all we need is to know that our bodies have something to say, and that it is OK to listen. In fact, more than listen...we can trust that our bodies know what to do. So, if you pay attention and notice how and where your body hurts, then you can decide how to take care of it. In hindsight (things are always SO clear in hindsight) I would have listened to my aching body and my sore legs. I would have had more baths, said NO to more commitments that made me uncomfortable and caused cramping in my guts. I would have rested more...slowed down. But, hindsight is hindsight....I did the best I could at the time with what I knew and I love myself for that.... Namaste. Sandy Something very important is happening. Anyone who ever has lost someone, or who will lose someone has to know. That's everyone. That's me, and you and someone you know. There are changes coming to the DSM-V (Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders). Which, to make a long story short, will make it easier for people who are grieving to be diagnosed with Major Depressive Disorder. Basically, if you are experiencing symptoms such as sadness, altered sleep patterns and changes in appetite, for longer than two weeks (2 WEEKS?!) after the death of a loved one, you meet the criteria for depression. 2 weeks? Are we human? Or are we robots?
I recognize that the above description is over-simplified. I recognize that in some cases, people who are grieving can, and are, diagnosed with depression and prescribed medication. I also HOPE with every fiber of my being that the decision to do so is made by a clinician who has a firm grounding and understanding in what it means as a human being to experience and live through loss as a natural and normal part of life, and NOT a pathology that can be SOLVED by medication. In some cases I'm sure medication can help, but to have a 2 week limit on a human experience like grief is scary and irresponsible, in my humble opinion. Six months after Cam's sudden and tragic death a medical professional asked me if I had a good Christmas. No. I didn't. It was horrible. It was excruciating. It was hell for me and for his family. Christmas wasn't a celebration that year. Nor the next. Nor the one after that, if the truth be known. Next comment made (without further conversation or acknowledgment of my reality): "You sound depressed, you need medication." Actually, what I needed was someone to acknowledge that feeling sad after the death of my loved one was normal. That feeling a loss of joy and lightness is a natural response to devastation. That the symptoms of grief are a wise and organic response to the fact that I had something that I loved be taken from me. That not feeling like celebrating Christmas 6 months after his death was completely congruent with my life experience and that what I needed was people to sit with me there in darkness, not fix the unfixable. Heart to heart, another human being should understand that grief is painful, messy and life changing. AND, that it is OK...more than OK, it's part of healing a grieving heart. A hug would have been nice as well. Ted Gup has this to say, in an article written in the NY Times called Diagnosis: Human "I fear that being human is itself fast becoming a condition. It’s as if we are trying to contain grief, and the absolute pain of a loss like mine. We have become increasingly disassociated and estranged from the patterns of life and death, uncomfortable with the messiness of our own humanity, aging and, ultimately, mortality. Challenge and hardship have become pathologized and monetized. Instead of enhancing our coping skills, we undermine them and seek shortcuts where there are none, eroding the resilience upon which each of us, at some point in our lives, must rely. Diagnosing grief as a part of depression runs the very real risk of delegitimizing that which is most human — the bonds of our love and attachment to one another. The new entry in the D.S.M. cannot tame grief by giving it a name or a subsection, nor render it less frightening or more manageable. The D.S.M. would do well to recognize that a broken heart is not a medical condition, and that medication is ill-suited to repair some tears. Time does not heal all wounds, closure is a fiction, and so too is the notion that God never asks of us more than we can bear. Enduring the unbearable is sometimes exactly what life asks of us. But there is a sweetness even to the intensity of this pain I feel. It is the thing that holds me still to my son. And yes, there is a balm even in the pain. I shall let it go when it is time, without reference to the D.S.M., and without the aid of a pill." Well said Ted. I feel SO passionate about being a voice speaking out for and standing up for being human. For compassion, understanding, and vulnerability in all our hurts, griefs and frailty. As Mother Teresa said, "I have found the paradox that if you love until it hurts, there can be no more hurt, only more love." Let's love, people. Of course, this is only MY opinion. I invite you to listen to a podcast done by the BBC called Medicalising Grief. It is only available for 4 more days, so please listen soon. It is a well done, and well rounded look at the issues around the changes coming to the DSM-V and what it mean to stakeholders (drug companies...yes, interesting indeed), clinicians, you and me. If you love someone. If you've lost someone. If you will lose someone - please listen. Knowledge is power. Inform yourself now, so when the inevitable happens you can direct your own care and be informed about who you let into your grief to help you make decisions about your care. With love, Sandy Updates:
Graceful Passages - An audio CD that provides gentle and compassionate support for anyone facing loss and life-changing transitions. It can be found under DVDs/CDs in the Yoga for Grief Support Store. A Grief Observed, by CS Lewis - A short and powerful look at the grief experienced by CS Lewis after the death of his wife Joy. Every sentence of this book is full of insight and wisdom into the heartbreak CS Lewis experienced. This can be found in the Grief and Bereavement section of the store. If you are as interested in the life and loss experienced by CS Lewis as I am, you may be interested in Shadowlands (also found in Grief and Bereavement) which is a book about the lives of CS Lewis and his wife Joy, from before they met until after her death, and the corresponding movie Through The Shadowlands (found in DVDs/CDs). Buddhist Care for the Dying and Bereaved is a new book that looks at Buddhist practices of preparing for death, attending the dying and comforting the bereaved. I haven't had a chance to read this book yet, but it is next on my list. Buddhist philosophy has brought me much comfort in my own experience, and I am excited to have another resource in my library. It can also be found in the store, under both categories of Death and Dying as well as Mindfulness and Buddhism. I even have a section dedicated to yoga. The Breathing Book shown on the right is a great resource all about the breath - including meditations, exercises and education about breathing. Other titles under the Yoga category include some of my favourites such as: Yoga As Medicine by Timothy McCall, Relax and Renew: Restful Yoga for Stressful Times by Judith Lasater, and Meditations from the Mat: Daily Reflections on the Path of Yoga by Rolf Gates. Uplifts: I am constantly looking at new ways to bring elements of support and sharing to the Yoga for Grief Support class. Last class, our sharing circle was about what we, the bereaved, have found supportive in our journeys. I decided it would be helpful for me to compile a comprehensive list for everyone about what each individual found supportive (from books, to classes, to small acts of kindness). At the end of this session, everyone will get a copy to take with them to refer to as needed. Perhaps I will even post a copy here. Expanding the web of support....
Thanks for reading. Namaste, Sandy One of the perks of social media is when really, really good information is shared among like minded people. I came across this video; it had been posted on Facebook, and it has done more that just capture my attention, it has been on my mind on a daily basis since I watched it. There is so much depth of wisdom in it - I think it's a video that can teach me about the need to share my story, and can teach others about how to be present to another person's pain. I would love to hear comments and discussion on what touched you, or rang true in your own heart. Enjoy and share. Namaste. (If the video doesn't show up, you can find it here). |
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