Now is the time to recognize whether you’re allowing yourself the extraordinary gift of being at ease with who you are, and where you are. Life is not asking you to become someone else before you belong. All of existence is already welcoming you — the moon and the stars, the earth and her creatures, the rock, mountains, and waters as our brothers and sisters. You are part of this living family. And in this dance of being, it matters that we pause long enough to feel the present moment hold us.
Take time to savor the exquisite tastes and textures of life in your own unique way. Not the way you should savor it, but the way your soul naturally does. The sacred is not hidden in some future version of you. It’s woven right into this breath, this body, this ordinary miracle of being alive.
In my corner of the world, the wind is blowing tonight — great gusts of pure energy that feel like both a test and a cleansing. I’m safe and warm in my sacred space, listening to the weather speak its wild truth outside my walls. And so it is with life. We can create a sacred space within us that offers shelter through the storms of experience. Not a place that avoids the winds, but a place that knows how to stand steady while they pass.
Each of us, as divine and infinite beings, carries a dignity that blends with existence itself. We are vehicles through which the Divine tastes the physical world. Love rains down upon us for all directions, even when we forget to look up.
So, I invite you to become aware of what you may be clinging to. Does your strength come from within, or from a perceived fortress of safety around you? What happens if you loosen your grip — just a little — and let life meet you where you actually are? There is freedom in softening. There is expansiveness in sharing. This is a moment to become one with life, not by striving, but by arriving.
Blessing:
May you feel the arms of existence around you tonight.
May your inner sanctuary grow steadier with every breath.
May what you release return to the earth as compost for your becoming.
And may you remember — again and again — that you are already home.