Be-This-Now

I sometimes forget
that I was created for joy.
My mind is too busy.
My heart is too heavy
for me to remember
that I have been
called to dance
the sacred dance of life.
I was created to smile,
to Love,
to be lifted up
and to lift others up.
O Sacred One,
untangle my feet
from all that ensnares.
Free my soul
that we might
Dance
and that our dancing
might be contagious.

- Hafiz

"Lost"

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.
No two trees are the same to Raven.
No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.
-- David Wagoner

Here's a short & sweet 'breathing space' practice to help step back into presence 😊

3min Breathing Space A short breathing space to help step back into the present moment :)

Take a breath…

A 10 minute breath awareness practice to steady the mind and reconnect with the here and now

The practice closes with this poem by the beautiful David Whyte:

Enough

Enough. These few words are enough.
If not these words, this breath.
If not this breath, this sitting here.
This opening to the life
we have refused
again and again
until now.
Until now.

10min Breath Awareness practice A 10 minute breath awareness practice to steady the mind and reconnect with the here and now :) The practice closes with this poem by the beautiful David Whyte: Enough Enough. These few words are e

In the End

In the end
you won’t be known
for the things you did,
or what you built,
or what you said.

You won’t even be known
for the love given
or the hearts saved,

because in the end you won’t be known.

You won’t be asked, by a vast creator full of light:
What did you do to be known?

You will be asked: Did you know it,
this place, this journey?

What there is to know can’t be written.
Something between the crispness of air
and the glint in her eye
and the texture of the orange peel.

What you’ll want a thousand years from now is this:
a memory that beats like a heart—
a travel memory, of what it was to walk here,
alive and warm and textured within.

Sweet brightness, aliveness, take-me-now-ness that is life.

You are here to pay attention. That is enough.

– Tara Mohr