“This is a wonderful day. I’ve never seen this one before.” From one of my heroes, Maya Angelou, this beloved quote illustrates how she not only had a way with words, but a way with gratitude. Her poetry, books and wide variety of other creative offerings drove at the truth with such force as to make us all wonder how we had missed so much depth in our own lives. The beauty of her inspired literature swept us away into her experience and lifted us up with the hope of rising t

Just think. There can be a precious day of the week when we don't wake up and look at the phone. A day when we can linger longer in our morning meditation. A day when we can stretch, breathe and align without a phone chirping on the corner of the yoga mat. There can be a day when our gratitude practice is not confined to a time of day, but a joyful lingering with the gifts of this precious moment. A day to read, to contemplate, to welcome, to rejuvenate, to be and to allow. A

A friend called yesterday and shared how she was suffering from daily anxiety and panic attacks. She was the third person to relay a similar story in past weeks. This can't be good. Embodying calm seems like an elusive dream, but have faith. It’s not out of reach. In fact, it's right here within. Before we accept anxiety as a companion, there are tools that can bring us closer to our always-calm center. Yes, there is peace in there. Promise. Sometimes waaaaaaay in there as th

If you woke up today feeling less than beautiful, remember, that no matter what is going on with you, the soul is always beautiful and radiant beyond imagination. And not only that, it is capable of rising above any challenge you may face today - to gain a higher perspective. Like being on an airplane high up over the clouds, the humans on the ground experience a rainy day, while the real you is getting all of the sunshine. Yes, the soul has the overview, the big picture, the

Decked out in their finest, Mom and Dad were on their way down Route A1A in Florida to an anniversary party at an elegant yacht club. They didn’t go to many social events and were excited to celebrate this special evening in the lives of their old friends. Mom chose flowing blue silk and pearls; Dad wore his best suit. The previous summer, Mom had endured a double mastectomy for breast cancer, and this party marked a return to the small joys of life. Now several towns from th

As I sit in the morning sun considering ways to celebrate joy in small things, I imagine a colorful tube reaching from the sky to me. Through this open, joy-transmitting tunnel, I feel beams of sheer bliss coming right into the top of my head and landing with laughter in my heart. My joy channel is getting a strong signal. But strangely, it repeatedly sends down but one thing through my tunnel. Coffee cake. Yes, indeed. I’m channeling almond coffee cake. Since taking all thin

The squirrels are collecting and burying nuts; the horses are circling the field in the rain; the leaves are beginning the long slow process of changing hue; the wind is gently sweeping away the ones that have volunteered to fly first. All is well out my window on this fall afternoon as if nature was born of faith. And all is well with the spirit too. Even in dramatic changes and challenges, the spirit remains calm and steady. Even in our confusion and indecision, the spirit

Speaking our truth is one of the best ways to get to know ourselves. Many a heart can be healed by the simple act of uncensored expression in the presence of quiet compassion. So while it may seem passive to find yourself on the listening end of a conversation, you are giving a precious gift. I’m not sure when my self-conscious veneer started to crack, but I must admit I talk to horses a lot these days. They don’t interrupt me when I’m talking; they nod between bites of grass

The first time I came home to the cabin after dark and shut off my lights at the end of the long gravel driveway, I sat in dread. This was a huge mistake. There was no way I was going to walk from the car down the tiered steps through the tunnel of trees to the front door. Nope. It was pitch black, coal black, not a drop of light black. Perhaps the universe was sending me down a little joke, handing me a reflection of my life at that time. I sat for long minutes in humorless

In early spring during my walks around the sheep and llama field, I watched the farmer behind a local inn plant what became a flourishing, organic garden. She tilled the soil and lovingly infused the Virginia clay with rich compost. She padded up the rows, planted precious seeds down the center, gave them a deep drink of well water and covered them with hay. One day when I arrived for a walk in the late afternoon, I saw her standing there, caked with dirt after a long day’s w