sweeping my front porch

I've been fascinated by feng shui for the past couple of years because it feels like it's helping to balance out a missing piece for me—I've spent so much time pondering the inner and spiritual worlds and feng shui is all about working with the physical world. I love the idea that we can engage with how our physical spaces affect us and that our homes can be a powerful ally. 

And my favorite feng shui practice right now is sweeping.

I liked to sweep long before I knew anything about feng shui—I think it's kinda meditative and very satisfying and I liked thinking about all my generations of ancestors who also swept their floors. And sometimes the vacuum is just too loud. But when I learned its meaning in feng shui, my love for sweeping made even more sense to me.

Sweeping in feng shui supports clearing out old energy and welcoming in new energy. And I've learned that sweeping outside your front door is a great place to start, because your front door is where all the energy of your home enters.

So I've been setting an intention and sweeping outside my front door as an embodied and symbolic gesture for clearing out stale energy and welcoming in a new flow and vitality. (And by the way, my front porch area area was really dusty—and that metaphor isn't lost on me!) It feels good and I think my house likes it too!

What do you think? Do you like to sweep? Do you find yourself wanting outer/physical reminders of the inner work you're doing to clear out old patterns or energy? Maybe try some sweeping. And let me know how it goes. 

With care,
Brianna

p.s. A little more on the magic of sweeping...

photo by Daniel von Appen

the facts of life

I recently came across this poem by poet and theologian Pádraig Ó Tuama from his collection Sorry For Your Troubles. It feels like the sort of facts and truths to be holding right now. 

+++

The Facts of Life
by Pádraig Ó Tuama

That you were born
and you will die.

That you will sometimes love enough
and sometimes not.

That you will lie
if only to yourself.

That you will get tired.

That you will learn most from the situations
you did not choose.

That there will be some things that move you
more than you can say.

That you will live
that you must be loved.

That you will avoid questions most urgently in need of
your attention.

That you began as the fusion of a sperm and an egg
of two people who once were strangers
and may well still be.

That life isn’t fair.
That life is sometimes good
and sometimes even better than good.

That life is often not so good.

That life is real
and if you can survive it, well,
survive it well
with love
and art
and meaning given
where meaning’s scarce.

That you will learn to live with regret.
That you will learn to live with respect.

That the structures that constrict you
may not be permanently constricting.

That you will probably be okay.

That you must accept change
before you die
but you will die anyway.

So you might as well live
and you might as well love.
You might as well love.
You might as well love.

+++

Yes, we might as well live and we might as well love. 

With care,
Brianna

P.S. And in my search for this poem, I found this image of Pádraig’s poem in of a Poetry Box. Have you seen these in your neighborhood? It looks like they are kinda like a Little Free Library, but with rotating poems inside and free copies of the featured poem for people to take! 

A lifted foot

I did an online retreat for the new year with Heather Ruce, and one of the questions Heather asked is what gesture best describes your intentions for the new year. I liked this idea of focusing on a gesture, because gestures helps us drop the mind down into the body. 

Heather does a lot of work teaching sacred gestures (via the teachings of GI Gurdjieff), and she talks about how different gestures seem to carry their own energetic signatures that cross languages and cultures and how these are movements we humans have been doing for generations and generations and generations. These are things like bowing our head, kneeling, putting our hands over our heart, opening our arms wide. The moment you make one of these gestures, you can immediately sense the meaning and energy behind it. 

When I heard the question about a gesture we're being drawn to, I got a vision of a lifted foot in the process of taking a step.

I don't know if this gesture fits into the typical canon of sacred gestures, but it feels spot on for the energy I'm being called to, which involves taking skillful action at the right time and being clear and direct. And I love how this feels like a kind of antidote for the drain of overthinking, stuck, push/pull energy. 

So I'm going with it for this year—a lifted foot, a step. And I'll try working with this posture/gesture when I know I'm needing a boost of it's medicine or a reminder that my body knows how to do this clearly and directly and the rest of me can trust and follow that. 

What do you think?  Does your body feel drawn toward a specific gesture these days? And if so, what is the energetic resonance for you within that gesture?

With care,
Brianna

p.s. The photo up top is a drawing from my notes of what I imagined this sacred gesture might look like. I guess I gave the gesture jazz hands, too. Ha! :) 

don’t be afraid of its plenty

I'm practicing "letting the good in" as my therapist calls it.

Given the state of our world and after years of personally dealing with challenge after challenge, it feels very strange and foreign.

My old response to goodness and joy was often to minimize it or not trust it or to not really let it in because I was waiting for the other shoe to drop.

And the response I'm practicing now? 
I get all scared and squirmy and want to run and then I turn and say...
"Thank you."

I receive it. I let it land. And woosh, it's like a warmth spreads over my body. I am nourished and softened. 

And really, who knows what goodness is floating around just waiting for us to let it land, waiting for us to stop squirming and say thank you.

Here's Mary Oliver on the subject (from her collection Devotions)...

Here's to not being afraid of its plenty (or being afraid and doing it anyway),
Brianna

so nature's wastefulness seems quietly obscene

I like writing poems in conversation with other poems.

I was trying to write about life's baffling wastefulness (and being wasteful with my own life and longings) when I found a poem by Tony Hoagland called "A Color of the Sky" from his book What Narcissism Means to Me.

Tony's poem helped me to write my own and I decided to make this process a part of the actual poem...

What about you? Do you like to write in conversation with other writers or want to give it a try? Are you thinking about life's baffling wastefulness?  

With care,
Brianna

Fall Triduum

In a few days I'll be "keeping" the three days of Halloween, All Saints Day, and All Souls Day as a sacred passage and a thin space (Oct 31, Nov 1, and Nov 2nd). 

I bring out photos of ancestors and beloved ones (and beloved pets!) who have passed, and this year I have a few more to add because my circle of beloveds has grown. I also bring out photos of saints and awakened ones. I put them all on a table in my kitchen, where they get lots of gathered attention over the three days and remind me of the inner work before me.

And it's a reciprocal exchange of energies—I give attention and I also receive deep nourishment and assistance from my ancestors and saints and awakened ones. So much help is available to us, and the conscious work that we do and that we offer up on behalf of the whole matters. 

In the christian wisdom tradition, Cynthia Bourgeault calls these three days the "Fall Triduum," and she says that the intention of this passage is to "taste that in ourselves which already lies beyond death in order that we might begin to live from that place now."

Cynthia writes: "The days are shortening, the leaves are fallen, and the earth draws once again into itself. Everything in the natural world confronts us with reminders of our own mortality….In the quiet, brown time of the year, these fall Triduum days are an invitation to do the profound inner work: to face our shadows and deep fears (death being for most people the scariest of all), to taste that in ourselves which already lies beyond death, drink at its fountain, and then to move back into our lives again, both humbled and steadied." (You can read her longer description of the Fall Triduum here.)

However you mark the turning of these days, may you be well and may you find space to remember the mystery of death and those who have gone before us. 

With much care,
Brianna

the creative cost of over-responsibility for others

“Many of us find that we have squandered our own creative energies by investing disproportionately in the lives, hopes, dreams, and plans of others. Their lives have obscured and detoured our own. As we consolidate a core through our withdrawal process, we become more able to articulate our own boundaries, dreams, and authentic goals. Our personal flexibility increases while our malleability to the whims of others decreases. We experience a heightened sense of autonomy and possibility.” —Julia Cameron

Whewwww.

I remember reading those lines many years ago in Cameron's The Artist's Way and being stopped in my tracks. At that point I don't think I'd ever made the connection between my exaggerated sense of responsibility for others and what that cost me creatively.

But Julia lays out the price really clearly. And it sounds like she knows this truth from personal experience, as do I. 

And yes, it is a detox or "withdrawal" process. And I've found there's also a lot of grieving to do about what we've given away. 

And yes, as we consolidate a core, we begin to foster a sturdier sense of who we are and what we're about, which, I think, is a prerequisite for our creative work (and one that so many of us skip over). 

And yes, "our personal flexibility increases while our malleability to the whims of others decreases." Addiction specialist Pia Mellody says this is how we experience "functional power" aka "living in action rather than reaction to other people."

Have you experienced the correlation between over-responsibility for others and what that costs you creatively? What's it been like to withdraw and consolidate your core?

With care,
Brianna

photo by @gervele

finding our teachers via bafflement + fascination

As I’ve shared here in the past, I’ve been re-examining my relationship with money. A couple years ago I read the book It’s Not Your Money by Tosha Silver.

I read a lot of psycho-spiritual books and I'm an editor for these kinds of books, too. So, usually I'm pretty good at synthesizing the concepts and finding my key takeaways. With Tosha's book, I was really into it but I could not hold onto what I was reading. 

I remember trying to tell a friend about the book (this is one of my favorite hobbies—and bless my dear friends for listening to my book reports!), and I literally drew a blank. All I could tell them was that I was fascinated by the book and really drawn to it. My friend commented on how odd it was that I couldn't tell her anything more specific and I agreed! 

But I just kept plugging away and I've re-read It's Not Your Money three or four more times since.

And I think it's finally starting to sink in! Ha. I'm completely smitten with the process of offering and receiving/giving that Tosha teaches in her book. 

But zooming out more, I know I've also had this kind of bewildering/powerful experience over the years with other teachers/lessons/books—I'm really drawn to something...and it completely baffles me.

I've learned to trust this feeling and now see it as one of the mystical breadcrumbs I follow to bring me to the books I need to study or the teachers I need to find. 

What do you think? Has this simultaneous attraction/confusion ever happened with you and a book or teacher?  

With care,
Brianna

photo by @alexmoliski

ebb and flow

I've been integrating a lot of new change and growth over here and am feeling pretty quiet these days on the newsletter/blog front (and thankgod I've learned to trust these rhythms and the ebb and flow).

But I wanted to share a few links and updates with you!

First off, a new teaching from Cynthia Bourgeault on ten practical guidelines for conscious aging. 

This song by Fiona Apple and Iron and Wine. 

The lost art of making plans (I found this via Anne Helen Peterson's very good newsletter)

I'm forever trying to figure out how to take care of a home and all the things in it. Your House Machine and "systems thinking" has been helpful. 

Reading If you lived here I'd know your name and really enjoyed Sure, I'll Join Your Cult

Just made this zucchini bread—don't skip the turbanado sugar on top (or add more than it calls for, like me) and enjoy a very good crust. 

With lots of care,
Brianna

P.S. We got two kittens—and now I wish we had named them ebb and flow! :)

it's true!

During the training I attended last week with Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés (it was incredible!) she said something that really shifted an old belief for me. 

Many of the students were asking similar questions around how to heal these kinds of thoughts:
I feel like I'm too intense, too sensitive, etc
My presence doesn't matter (this is my old belief)
I'm not enough
and also I'm too much

And Dr. Estés noted the pattern of all these thoughts and then she said she wanted to share something important. She paused and cleared her throat and then she said:
It's true!

The room was silent and you could feel the shock and surprise coming from the students.

She continued
It's true. You are too intense...for some people. 
It's true. Your presence doesn't matter...to some people. 
Yep, it's true. You aren't enough...for some people. 
It's true. You're too much...for some people. 

And then she said
Those are not your people.
Leave.
And go toward those who have good will for you. 

Whew. It was so powerful and I keep thinking about the energetic shift when she said yep, it's true. 

I actually felt my shoulders drop with relief and I could feel a similar shift in the people sitting around me. 

I think so many of us have only ever tried to resist/change these kinds of thoughts and beliefs. We "fight" them with positive affirmations of you are enough! and replies about how that just isn't true, etc. 

But what a shift when we stop fighting (and gaslighting ourselves) and turn and say it's true! And honor the part that knows it's been true in the past for us around certain key people in our lives.

For me, my old belief softened. 

And then I loved her phrase of "go toward those who have good will for you."

To them, you are not too much.

What do you think? I'd love to hear. 

With care,
Brianna

Photo by Aziz Acharki

trust and criticism

Lately I've been coaching a number of creative clients who are dreaming of taking their work or business to the next level but are struggling to trust themselves and envision the way forward. 

And what I keep hearing is fear in the form of self-criticism:

I always have too many balls in the air...
I'll never figure out the tech/logistics/money stuff…
I won't get it right...
I just need to "get it together" and work harder...
It's not ready to share or I'm not ready to take the leap (yet "ready" never seems to come)

And what seems to be really soothing the self-criticism is this cluster of questions centered on trust: 

What if you're not doing anything wrong? (aka you are not a problem to be solved)
What if opportunities flow even more easily when you trust yourself and your longings?
What if it could be this straightforward/easy/simple? 

And the good news is that you don't have to wait until your circumstances feel more trustworthy to begin working with this trust energy. 

In her course on rebuilding trust one of my spiritual teachers Cynthia Bourgeault says this: "To our usual psychological way of looking at things, trust must be earned; it is called forth in response to demonstrated trustworthiness. But there is another way of approaching trust, which has always been the way of the great saints and mystics. From this other angle of approach, trust is not earned so much as bestowed—from a fathomless strength and freedom which lies latent in every human soul, flowing like a wellspring from the heart of God. Anchored in strength rather than gullibility, and impervious to manipulation, this trust is itself a transformative force, flowing into a broken world to bring courage, healing, and reconnection." 

What do you think about this approach? Are you also working with the theme of trust in your life? If you want support around this work, I'm here.

With care,
Brianna

P.S. I'm headed to a training this coming week with the brilliant Dr. Clarissa Pinkola Estés (!!!), and I can't wait. I'll be sure to keep you all posted on whatever emerges. 

Photo by Naoki Suzuki

self-love and the initiating power of committing

I'm new to the dating world and so I've been trying to read and learn more about this whole process and I kept hearing about the book Calling in The One. The title is so cheesy and so I was a little skeptical, but when I moved past the title and started reading it, and I've found a lot of wisdom in it.

I wanted to share these lines on self-love: 
"I discovered that true self-love is not an emotion, but a steadfast devotion to realizing one's potentials. A fidelity to the promise of a bright and brilliant future that looks nothing like the wreckage of your past, and a willingness to generate this possibility, over and over again, no matter what. It's dedication to becoming resilient and unstoppable in the direction of your dreams. It's the tireless efforts to create a sense of safety, well-being, and happiness in your life."

I so appreciate this idea that self-love is a deep commitment to your well-being. It makes me tear up just thinking about offering this level of devotion to myself and my dreams, and I like that she says it's not based on emotions but more on tangible and steady actions.

And Katherine goes on to point out how many of us have never made this profound commitment to ourselves and how it's long overdue, especially if we hope to share this kind of commitment with another person. 

What do you think? Does this ring true to you? I'd love to hear. 

With care,
Brianna

P.S. And Goethe on the initiating power of committing: "Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth that ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. All sorts of things occur to help one that would never otherwise have occurred. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one’s favor all manner of unforeseen incidents and meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamed would have come his way.” 

photo by @gonchifacello

Being a slow and patient creator

I've been submitting my poetry manuscript to a lot of poetry publishers and I just keep collecting rejection letters. If you're in the process of submitting your work—whew, solidarity!!  

And I'm trying to practice what I tell my editing clients: to remember that this is part of the process and that I don't have to extrapolate and make it mean something terrible. And that I have choices! I may end up self-publishing, for example.

And I've been needing some stories of fellow pilgrims on this journey.

I went back to Spencer Reece's memoir The Secret Gospel of Mark (such a good book about queerness, addiction and recovery, the contemplative Christian path, and all held together by poetry!). Reece's first poetry book was turned down for fifteen years until it found a publishing home—selected by Louise Glück, no less! I loved reading about his patience and faithfulness to his vision and his slow pace. He calls himself a "slow creator" and talks about how his books are decades in the making. 

I've realized during this process that I'm not in a huge hurry and I don't need to publish my book in order to prove myself or my ideas. I actually already genuinely like myself and genuinely like this book!! This might seem like an obvious starting point for most, but for someone who has struggled with a lot of self-doubt, it really is a big shift and offers me a lot of freedom. 

But I also think it makes me a little less "hungry" to get my book published, and we don't have very many examples of people softly and patiently doing the thing they want to do. It's usually all about being hungry, driven, going "all-out."  

So I'm out here look for more examples of people doing what they long to do, but in a softer way. Do you have any recommendations for me—films, shows, books, music?  I'd really love to hear. 

With care,
Brianna

P.S. Spencer Reece's poem "The Clerk's Tale" about his day job as the assistant manager at Brooks Brothers at the Mall of America

Image by @dcbelanger

nourishing song

When I was a student with the Center for Action and Contemplation's Living School, one of the highlights was a week-long retreat in Albuquerque with Fr. Richard Rohr and a group of fellow students.

During that week we sang and danced to devotional music across many mystical and spiritual traditions. My favorite song was the Hindu devotional song "Om Shivay Hari Om Shivay" sung by the famous musician Jagjit Singh.

It feels like it's carrying a special kind of energetic medicine for our world right now, and I listen to it and dance to it often because it's so nourishing. 

Do you have any songs that feel like this for you right now? I'd love to hear. 

With care,
Brianna

P.S. And a powerful devotional chant from Quaker musician Paulette Meier about containing yourself within and trusting your inner light and not being scrambled/pulled in all the directions. 

Photo by Visual Karsa.