In a podcast I recently listened to, the interviewee said that in seminary he had to repeat over and over (in Latin), "Whatever is received is received in the manner of the receiver."

I was taken with this. As a hypnotherapist, I know how important it is to learn about how my client takes in information - their manner of receiving - so that I can make suggestions that will be effectively absorbed. The interview I heard reminded me that the quality of receivership pertains to me, too. What is the manner of my ability to receive?

I am very interested in amending the soil in my garden back to fertility. What about the soil of my soul? How rich is it with nutrients and minerals? How well am I able to absorb moisture? How willing am I to allow a diversity of organisms and insects to cultivate a thriving and evolving ecology? How can I step beyond my conditioning into fertile receivership?

It's a question that incites real change if I choose to follow through. It's exciting, a little scary, and I am grateful that the manner of receiving made its way back into my awareness.

Have you read Kate Chopin's The Awakening? I just finished my 4th reading of it. I've said to others that the novel sticks with me. The ending was controversial in it's time (1899) and remains controversial today. Two friends decided to read it and did not make it through to the end. It didn't capture their interest.

Just this morning I came across one of my favorite passages. The leading lady, Edna, is speaking with her friend, Arobin (male), of an exchange she had with another friend, Mlle. Reisz (wise crone). Edna says:
"Well, for instance, when I left her [Mlle. Reisz] today, she put her arms around me and felt my shoulder blades, to see if my wings were strong, she said. 'The bird that would soar above the level plain of tradition and prejudice must have strong wings. It is a sad spectacle to see the weakling bruised, exhausted, fluttering back to earth'."
"...I've heard she's partially demented," said Arobin.
"She seems to me wonderfully sane," Edna replied.

It's not easy to be a bridge from a past way of thinking into something new. It's rough on relationships and on one's ego.

Pay attention to your internal knock-knock-knockings and strengthen your wings. The planet requires evolved ideas for a loving future.

If you've read the novel, the accompanying photo makes sense ;)

I would like to feel more resourceful. At first, I thought resourcefulness meant being able to start a fire and grow vegetables. These abilities are definitely resourceful, but I now think that part of resourcefulness is being present.

I feel present when I am in a state of wonder. Wonder lies between the past and the future and being right or wrong.

One of our hens hatched five chicks (they are so cute!) so I wonder about how the egg-to-chick thing happens. Some birds made a hole in a stump in our yard (left) and I wonder how they know when the hole is the right size.

I can google "how do birds know how big to make the hole" and find some sort of an answer that has to do with instinct, but what is the real impetus behind instinct? And that's where I stop - right in the middle of the question in a state of wonder and feeling present. In that state I feel true and connected...like I can do anything. A definite resource.

While helping a friend construct her memoir project we stumbled upon the power of asking a question and then wondering about it.

My friend loves rocks. In her memoir she could write, "I love rocks," but when asked why she loves rocks, the sharing becomes intimate and her soulfulness is revealed.

Her response to why she loves rocks was, "I wonder where they've been - where they've traveled from. If I see a dark rock with a stripe of white running through it, I wonder how that white stripe got there...what pressures formed it and how old it is."

The treasure isn't identifying the geological properties of the rock, it's the curiosity, wonder and awe of the woman holding it. Wondering without knowing all of the answers allows our hearts and minds to wander, and in those wondering, wandering moments we are lifted.

Today we went on a hike. It's rained a lot in the last month and the snow is unusually low in the mountains, so the brooks and streams are flowing nicely. It is green, green, green right now and today's sky was blue and filled with clouds, both white and gray. We sat down for a minute or two on the side of one of these streams, enjoying the sound.

Now in my 60's I feel a definite shift in my body that is uncomfortable at times. I know better than to try to chase past decades in terms of my physicality, but I do it anyway. This discomfort mostly shows up as feeling overweight and not looking as slender as I used to be. Today, though, in my cordouroy pants, hiking boots and sitting on the ground I felt just right. And I said so out loud.

Toward the end of a guided meditation I do that blesses all of my energy centers I had a strong visceral image of clasping hands with the women in my lineage up to my grandmothers. We formed a circle around a glowing fire.

I've always thought of my grandmothers, mother, aunts, cousins, sister, and nieces within their different families, but I've never thought of all of these women as part of the same whole. It was powerful, emotional, and bounced me out of the trappings of stories that separate us. In my vision, we were one group within a larger story.

This experience inspired the beginning of this blog. I hope writing about it and sharing it keeps me in touch with the larger picture.