.....seasons

Yogis,
This was the week when fall truly settled in around here. The temperatures, smells, colors and sounds were like ads for the season.

Most of my life I wasn’t a fall fan. Instead of enjoying it for what it offers, I saw her as a harbinger of what lies ahead. Darkness and cold. I would say it has only been in the last ten years that I have begun to draw her in…..or maybe it is she who embraced me.

Like the calendar year, our lives have seasons.

We are born into the springlike energy of childhood and adolescence. Bright, carefree and playful. Years to grow and build a foundation where our biggest needs are to be nurtured and watered. Then summer arrives…….and with it the heat.

Careers, children, schedules and responsibilities pack our days. High energy as we strive and accumulate the cars, houses and lots of stuff. A time of fullness. The peak. Then, if we are fortunate, we get to experience fall.

I intellectually knew I entered fall a while ago, but for some reason it wasn’t until this year that it truly sank in. At 63 autumn has suddenly settled into my bones and I am now ready to honor her and the gifts she brings.

Like the trees I watch out my window, my colors are changing. My skin and the garden becoming dry. And life becomes a bit quieter.

Fall is melancholy….but in a beautiful way. A season in life where we are in the midst once again of big transitions. Retirements, downsizing, moves, grandchildren. A thinning of responsibilities which can feel sad but also exhilarating as new spaces open.

I watch the leaves fall as I fill bags and boxes with things I am ready to let go of. I hear a flock of birds overhead and as they head south, so will many of my friends.

At times I wish for an endless summer.  But fall does not try to pretend it is summer. Why would it?  I listen and lean in to love this season of life, just as it is.

And if I am fortunate…..I will get to experience winter.

In fall we drop our masks,
SARAH

....open to awe

Yogis,
I’m at the beach this weekend and set the alarm early to get down to the ocean before sunrise. Our house is STILL filled with the saws and sawdust of construction (that’s another whole story) so we can’t stay there. My routine is to drive into town and park in front of our house so I can take my usual run.

I head through quiet streets and as I start down the sandy path that leads to the beach I see it. The ocean in the distance topped by puffy pink tinged clouds. The emerging light of dawn coloring even the air. My breath catches for a moment. The feeling of awe floods my body. It happens every single time.

What is the definition of awe? According to Oxford it is ‘the feeling of reverential respect mixed with fear or wonder.’ Other definitions add in terms such as ‘produced by that which is grand, sublime or extremely powerful.’

According to studies, the average person experiences awe 2 to 3 times per week. When was the last time you felt awe?

Although a fleeting sensation, for me it is a whole body high. Thoughts quiet, my body tingles and the chest expands. For that moment, nothing exists except me and the observed.

It happened the other cold clear morning as I stepped out to walk Phoebe and looked up. Stars illuminated the sky with a perfect crescent moon hanging on the western horizon. It happened when I walked into my bathroom in late afternoon to the sight of my suddenly gold colored oak tree framed by the window. And again while cooking dinner when I took my first taste.

A crescendo in classical music. Artwork. The smell of a rose.

I have been thinking about awe. I’m realizing it isn’t something you can go look for. Instead, the more present you are the more often it finds you. It’s as if by moving through life more slowly and being open to awe, she rolls to your feet.

The world we live in is filled with awe. No, I would go a step further. The world we live in is awe. All we have to do is open to let it in.

Feeling tingly,
SARAH

....birth

Yogis,
She has arrived! On October 8, at 8:19 am our granddaughter entered the world. Coming rather quickly, Summer James Cahill arrived at home, underwater in a tub under the guidance of a midwife. With five grandchildren (yikes!!) my third granddaughter has tipped the scale in favor of girls.

Holding her the next day I giggled as she struggled to open her eyes. One would open and the other would shut. A big effort in the bight lights of life. As both finally opened we peered at each other for the first time.

Who will she be? What paths will she choose? What are her unique gifts and how will she change the world? Unlimited possibilities lay ahead.

I followed the female thread that weaves through my family.

When my grandmother was born a wife’s legal identity was considered part of her husband’s. Yet my grandmother gave birth to my mom at home too. With a midwife. At that time women were expected to resign from jobs upon marriage.

By 1962 when I was born, births were ‘handled’ in hospitals by male doctors, with many women put under anesthesia while fathers sat down the hall in a waiting room. Birth control was not a constitutional right and women couldn’t get a credit card.

I birthed my first in 1984. A hospital was still the main option with fluorescent lights and delivery rooms resembling surgical units, while interns looked on. Husbands now there to support, but often heading to the office right after the birth……

I watch my daughter-in-laws. So many more options for women. The ability to choose how they want to bring another human being into the world.

Yet through it all, one thing never changes. Regardless of hospital, bed or tub. No matter who is in the room or what equipment is used. It is a woman who carries and nurtures life for nine months and when it’s time, her body knows what to do if allowed. Mother energy is a powerful force.

The world is slowly taking notice.

Welcome to the world Summer,
SARAH

.....love in action

 Yogis,
A picture perfect day in a magnificent setting. The groom on my left with his bride to my right. They hold hands. About to proclaim their love and commitment to each other in front of 150 witnesses. The air was warm and the sky that blue color which seems impossible to replicate in our human world.

Yesterday I officiated a wedding. My fifth over these past eleven years.

For each one, I spend time with the couple over the months before the wedding to get a sense of them. Of their desires for the ceremony, but also for the lives ahead that they will walk toward together.

A thread always emerges and becomes the weaver of my words. Yesterday those words were ‘love in action’.

We forget that love is a verb. Yes, there are the glorious gifts of fireworks and full body tingling when we fall in love. Yet to stay hand in hand over the next 5, 6 or even 7 decades requires love in action.

Love is something we do, not something that happens to us.  It is an action we choose to do……every day.

We do this by choosing consistent communication. Showing compassion. Kindness, kindness, kindness. Prioritizing quality time together. Showing appreciation and of course, accepting each other’s imperfections, since as much as we may try (and we will)…..they aren’t going to change.  

This couple has all of the ingredients to make theirs a life long love story.

We heard it in their deep thoughtful vows. And again, in each tear-jerking speech and toast. How these two love each other on purpose. Through having each other’s back, being vulnerable, speaking up and unquestionable loyalty.

We witnessed it in their actions. How they look at each other. Strong individuals, yet always aware of where the other is and swooping in when something is needed. And by the immense circle of love they’ve created with friends and family. They so evidently choose love.

I opened the window in front of my heart to radiate love on the couple.

Love in action,
SARAH

.....asters vs mums

Yogis,
Before I discovered the joy of gardening….or should I say, before it found me, I used to plant mums in the front yard each fall. It’s hard to resist those autumn colors all lined up at the store’s entrance, asking to be taken home. A chance to extend summer a bit.

And then each spring I would wait for them to come back up. It never happened. I was convinced I was the problem.

Then asters entered my life.

Asters, and what we refer to as mums, are both members of the Asteraceae family.  This family has the most basic shape of flowers with a round center and radiating petals. Think daisies, black eyed Susans, sunflowers.  There are 32,000 known plants in this family.

Asters though, unlike mums are native to the United States. Being native they are drought tolerant, easy care and come back each year! No fuss. My kind of plant. Asters will even reproduce via dropping seeds if you leave them alone. And they come in many stunning colors.

I planted my first set of lavender colored asters about 5 years ago, following up soon after with another variety. With absolutely no special attention from me (other than spending time with them) they come into a full cheerful bloom at the end of each summer, just as the garden seems to be wrapping up. The same time mums are arriving at garden nurseries.

Being native also means many kinds of bees and other insects find and enjoy them. Asters are even host plants for some butterflies who wouldn’t exist without them. Between the goldenrod and asters, my wheel remains colorful and busy through September.

The Universe, as always, communicates back in her reciprocal way. Over the last two years three different native white asters have shown up in my yard. I plant…..she plants….I plant…. she plants. They are all dainty, lovely additions to the areas where I have been clearing out invasives. Gifts.

Mums are lovely, but asters have stolen my heart. Give them a try if you haven’t already!

Learning,
SARAH

.....gentling

Yogis,
‘To gentle the journey through serious illness and loss with skill and compassion’

This was the quote that opened and set the tone for a two-day hospice training I attended this week. Now a graduate of the course, I will soon begin volunteering once a week for Montgomery & Prince George’s Hospice.

After taking the death doula course several months ago I was looking for the next step on this journey I have embarked on. Hospice seemed the perfect fit and this particular one resonated with what I would want in a hospice when it’s time.

What exactly is hospice? There are a lot of misconceptions. It isn’t a place. It is a service that comes to you, wherever you are. Covered by Medicare/Medicaid, one is eligible once the choice is made to no longer prolong life through treatments and death is expected (as best as one can predict a path so unique to each person) within six months.

There are many hospices available! This one is one of only about 20% still operating as a nonprofit. Most are now for profit. The most basic requirements for your care team are a hospice nurse, a social worker, a chaplain and volunteers. In fact, by law volunteers must provide a minimum of 5% of patient contact. Then each individual organization may offer other services.

As examples, Montgomery Hospice offers pet therapy, reiki (which I plan to be a part of), lavender hand massages (yes!), military pinning ceremonies for former service members and aromatherapy. Their 30 member threshold choir sends 4 people to sing at the bedside of those close to the threshold between worlds. They are amazing!

As a volunteer I will visit a patient 2 hours each week to talk, read to them, play music…..or simply sit as a quiet presence. I also hope to educate others on hospice and normalize our discussions on death......The only sure thing.

You matter because you are you,

and you matter to the end of your life. 

We will do all we can not only to help you die peacefully, 

but also to live until you die.

 ~ Cicely Saunders (founder of the hospice movement 1967)

Won’t this make me sad? At times, yes. But as everyone reiterated, we will receive so much more than we give.

Gentling the journey,
SARAH

......something we can do

Yogis,
My aunt has been having medical challenges this past week…… several states away. With the physical distance and her care being handled by doctors, we have been feeling frustrated. Like there isn’t much we can do to help her. If only we could transport ourselves to her side.

Last night though, when things were quiet, I remembered that we can! There is something we can do to be there for her. Any time and from any place.

We are energy and this human shape is not a boundary. We can be together by intending and willing it to happen. We all do this unconsciously but also have the ability to make this a conscious practice.

It’s quite simple. And although these are not requirements, I find being alone and closing my eyes to be very helpful.

Begin by bringing an image to mind of the person with whom you want to connect or help. An image of them healthy and happy. See them. Then remember what they ‘feel’ like. Their energy. Not what they think or believe. Not their actions. Instead, that part of them that never changes and makes them unique. Their essence.

Once you can see and feel them it is as if you are together. Give them what you want to share. Turn it on in yourself and radiate it out. Turn on the feeling of love and direct it toward them. Or joy. Maybe some humor or sharing of memories. It may be healing or gratitude. You can send anything you awaken and intend to send.

If it feels right, you can add warm light surrounding them. Color. Sunshine. An image of something you know brings them happiness.

Anything we can imagine…..we can create.

The person could be sitting in the same room or thousands of mile away. Maybe it’s just someone you don’t get the chance to see often. And whether they consciously feel it or not, you will reach them and will have an effect.

Last night as I was falling asleep, I held an image of my aunt with the two of us laughing together and I shined love her way.

What you send you also receive,
SARAH