“Like the sky opens after a rainy day we must open to ourselves…. Learn to love yourself for who you are and open so the world can see you shine.”

– James Poland

hello, hello!

july feels like the perfect time of year to rest and relax, even if it’s just for an hour.

to that end, i was inspired to have a midsummer special on the pause. the pause is a way to rest and recharge and renew – in the comfort of your own home.

if you’ve been wanting a way to put down your to-do lists and take some time for yourself, do check it out. the special is good through the end of july.

if you’re wondering what the experience might be like, i can tell you that it will be unique to you. and, a client recently gave me permission to share her experience, so here is one person’s story.

My cardiologist wants me to take [my blood pressure readings] at different times. This morning at 3:45 am – 194/86, pulse 62. This morning at 6:15 am – 209/89, pulse 61. After the session – 174/80, pulse 52 (that sounds high to you probably. And it is. But for me it’s wonderful!)

I was very relaxed. I sat in my wicker chair with my feet on an ottoman. First I felt a very distinct warmth in my heart, then my head. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but I was glad for the breeze. Then about five or ten minutes later I just sobbed. It came from nowhere. I wasn’t sad that I knew of. But I cried and cried. It only lasted a few seconds but I cried hard. Some kind of weight or release I guess. I meditate, but have never had that happen in it. I wiped my eyes with my hands and continued to sit. I felt very heavy. At one point I think I did fall asleep, but not for long. I then felt lighter. A lightness throughout. I never felt any tingling or anything, but I did feel different. I’m forever grateful to have had this reiki healing from you.

are you in need of time to pause?

yesterday, i read the gift of fear, by gavin de becker.

first, i decided that everyone should read it. then, i decided that i need to buy a bunch of copies and give them away to people i love, especially my sisters. then, i couldn’t help but wish that my dad had given it to me when i was younger and that all dads would give copies of it to their daughters. then, i decided that if i had to restrict myself to only one book recommendation, ever, it would be this book.

it’s about trusting the presence of true fear and your intuition to alert you to potential violence and danger so that you don’t have to let unwarranted fear rule your life.

i think it’s important. especially if you are like me and things like “but i have to be nice!” or “what if i’m judging them!” or “but i’ll look silly!” might get in the way of listening to your intuition.

the interesting thing for me is that i do feel physically safe most of the time, even in places where other people don’t feel safe. i thought it meant that i was naive and over-trusting. but i realized that it is also true that the times in my life when i felt the presence of fear (true fear, not worry or anxiety that feel like fear), i paid attention to it and did something, even though in at least one instance, i felt like i was probably making something out of nothing and felt very silly about listening to the fear and leaving.

now, i am thinking less about being naive and more about being willing to listen to that signal when it appears.

i do feel better equipped to protect myself from violence after reading this book. i only wish i had read it sooner.

when atlas was one, we spent an april weekend at a cottage in northern california’s wine country. it was part of a very dog-friendly place called sheep dung estates.

we spent all day saturday hiking in the hills above the cottage so, after dinner, i decided to rest my legs and just walk atlas down to the pond for his evening walk.

there was a couple at the pond, throwing a ball into the water for their black lab. the lab would race down the dock, dive into the pond, retrieve the ball, swim to shore, bring the ball to his people, and then excitedly wait for the next round.

atlas watched this for a while. all of a sudden, he ran down the dock and jumped into the water himself.

no one was more astonished than me.

except atlas.

he came up out of the water sputtering and splashing. his eyes were as wide as saucers. you could tell that whatever he expected, it was very much not. that.

his front legs were as stiff as boards and he slapped them in turn on the water, over and over.

he sputtered and splashed and slapped his legs on the water in a wide-eyed panic until he finally grew closer to shore and was able to get his legs on the ground. at that point, he ran out of the water and shook himself off.

atlas has never really gone in the water since that day. he always stops and turns around once the water gets to his knees. if he ever goes in any further than that, it is a rare occurrence and takes a great deal of time and coaxing.

i remember him watching another dog jumping into a pond after a ball years later. the expression on his face said very clearly, “what a silly dog! why on earth would he go to all that trouble for a ball? you’d never catch me doing that. if people want to throw a ball in the water, they can just fetch it themselves.”

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the mezquita in cordoba is a visigothic church that was converted into a mosque that eventually became a roman catholic church, at which point a cathedral was built in the center of the mosque. (the last three photos are of the cathedral’s ceiling.)

oh my goodness. i cannot even tell you how much i loved this building. there is something about moorish architecture that really speaks to me – it is full of simplicity and beauty and symmetry – and this was such a beautiful example of it. i could have taken pictures of those candy cane arches forever.

the floor of the mosque was made up of large stones, each one the size of a prayer rug. i sat on a bench in the middle of the arches for a long time, meditating and soaking in the feeling of centuries of devotion and prayer.

i want to see this again someday. so very much.

a friend and i spent a sunny saturday afternoon at the portland farmers’ market, eating lunch and people-watching and wandering around the booths. (if you happen to live in portland, you know this was not today, as evidenced by the rain falling on my window. it was last saturday, which was glorious.)

i was missing my camera – i do so love farmers’ market photos – but then i remembered that i had my iphone.

is that not the best dog sighting ever?! when his person saw that i was trying to take a picture of him, she turned him around so i could see his face. i cannot stop looking at him and smiling. (as a side note, i wonder why i assume the dog is a him. it seems like assuming he’s a her is a much better assumption.) i so wish i could show atlas this picture. i can just imagine his response.

i just got home from a hike in forest park. atlas got his exercise and we were done before the day got too warm. (i think it’s supposed to be 80 today.)

i am not sure atlas would agree with the “before the day got too warm” part. by the end of the hike, his tongue was long and droopy and he kept trying to drink from muddy puddles. to be fair, he likes to drink from muddy puddles no matter the temperature, but when it’s warmer, he’s more insistent.

now, atlas is napping in his crate and i am eating honey roasted peanuts and dried mango. it is a good day.

how is your wednesday treating you?

{i suspect that my list of what i am thinking about when i think about beauty may become an extremely irregular series.}

when i think about beauty, i am thinking about:

the juice of a very ripe peach dripping down your chin. a shy smile. the smell of roasting cauliflower. the two bluebirds that visit my patio every day that i’ve named harold and kumar. freshly painted (mint green) toenails. the smell of the first ripe strawberries at the farmers’ market. rejoicing with a friend when they receive good news. the salty smell of the sea.

the call to prayer echoing through the medina. wading in an icy-cold river. an unexpected invitation. the spark of an idea. fresher than fresh orange juice. the throat of a tiny bird vibrating as it chirps. soft skin. the so-red-it’s-almost-purple of a field of clover. the wind through my hair. a breath in, hallelujah – a breath out, hallelujah. a fuzzy caterpillar crawling across the path.

the soft down of a baby duckling waddling after its mother. when atlas cocks his head sideways and looks at me intently as if he’s trying really really hard to understand me. hope. a fluffy cloud with backlit edges. sharing a moment of connection with a stranger. when someone waves from across the park. a clap of thunder. sharing a meal with friends. a dragonfly glistening in the sunlight. feeling heard.

a flock of birds dancing in the air in unison. the bright green of new pine needles. big clumsy bumblebees. a whispered confidence. a message from someone i love. words like peony, elucidate, and melancholy. flower petals on the sidewalk. possibility. a candle flame in the dark. inner stillness. a hug. the fiery excitement of someone sharing one of their passions. the color blue.

when i think about beauty, i am thinking about all of this and so much more.

{a photo project honoring radiance, one of my words for 2012 :: 52 photos that represent radiance, 52 photos that represent luminosity.}

today, i want to tell you a story.

the trouble is that i’ve written the story two times so far this weekend and in two different ways and both times it wasn’t right so i deleted it.

you see, i’ve already written the story – it is the story behind images to go – and it seems that it doesn’t want to be rewritten here.

so today, my thoughts about radiance are on another page.

i hope you will click here and enjoy them.

i got an astrology reading from chris zydel a year or so ago. brilliant, by the way. one of the things that came up was that i needed to be taking a lot more risks.

truth be told, i had a hard time thinking of things that i could do. there are not really a lot of things that scare me. the idea of doing them might freak me out a little but i would still do them if i felt the urge. if i’m not doing them, it doesn’t really have anything to do with fear.

except i was avoiding the one thing that does scare me. it turns out that the thing that scares me is relationships and vulnerability and using my words.

it makes sense. the thing i am afraid of most of all is rejection (possibly this is true for many of us). to me, any form of using my words in relationship has the potential to result in rejection, so i avoid it at all costs.

this morning, it occurred to me that, since i am practicing using my words, i could do so by sending an email to someone to request that i be taken off a distribution list. i am a fan of the group that sends them. i know how to reach them. i just don’t read the emails and like to keep my email at a manageable level. i have wanted to make this request for ages. what did i do instead? i created a rule that sent the emails directly into a folder so i wouldn’t see them. except i did see them – i don’t like when things remain unread so i would pop into the folder to mark them as read – and every time i did, it felt slightly dishonest and even unkind to be hiding them away instead of just making the request.

i sat down and wrote an email and sent it.

immediately afterward, i felt nauseous. my insides were churning.

when i felt into it, there was a sense of fear, of panic, of terror. i could see a little girl hiding in the corner and saying, “you can’t say things to people! you can’t just say things without knowing how they’ll react! it’s not safe! don’t say anything at all! ever!”

i sent her love and safety, but goodness, it does make sense that i don’t like to use my words in close relationships when this is my response to using them in the most distant of distant ones.

still, yay, me. i am practicing.

maybe you can relate and you want to practice with me?