Field Notes: Being Busy as a Bee (& Why That's A Good Thing)

A bee doing what a bee does best. Cottage Garden, 9/23/14

This morning, I watched the bees enjoy the flowers in the cottage garden.

Watching bees in the flowers is one of my favorite things to do — they are so focused in such an easy-going way. To me, they are the embodiment of flow.

They take the time needed to visit each flower before moving on to the next one, sure-footed and zen-focused to the serious business of pollination.

The bees seem so serene and content as they go about their task, which will last them all day long.

Tomorrow, they will wake up and do this all over again.

A bee's work is never done.

But it's no matter to the bee — they are calm and diligent before embarking from the hive to fly several miles to visit thousands of flowers each day.

After all, there is beauty to behold. Honey to make. New flowers, just bloomed, to discover. And work to do.

The bees know their task and get about doing it. No fear. No worrying. No feeling “less-than.”

In my book, Flowering Wisdom, I wrote "the bumblebee is a spiritual teacher, offering lessons in being present to whatever you are doing at any given moment."

The bee taking its own sweet time with this aster and teaching me to be in the moment. Cottage Garden, 9/23/14.

Doing our own work, whatever we define that as, can be that easy. Whether it's tending to our home, our business, our relationships or bringing our heartfelt dreams to life.

We can wake up and tend to the work at hand.

But too often we make it hard with our limiting thoughts and procrastinations.

The bee, on the other hand, has no time for such wasted energy.

I want to be more like the bee. In flow. On purpose. In action. In flight, my nose right up against the sweet nectar of beauty and life. Ready day in and day out to show up and do the work.

Okay with the fact that it will never be done. (There is always more to do, experience and know.)

Finding joy in the day-in and day-out rhythm of life, where the sweetness of living resides.

You in, too?

Tell me, what about the bee inspires you?

P.S. Did you know that according to the International Bee Research Association honey bee foragers commonly fly up to four miles to collect nectar and pollen from flowers? It is estimated that it takes 10 million foraging trips to make the equivalent of a one-pound jar of honey. Also, fascinating article on bee sleep habits here.

P.P.S. I've updated my Stargazer sessions so that I now offer two options: a 45-minute consult by phone — Mini Stargazer Sessions — in addition to the two-hour deep-dive Stargazer Immersion. I am excited to offer these sessions for people who need a session focused on a specific area of concern, for those desiring ongoing support to move through a life "threshold" or for those who would like to dip their toes in and experience a session with me at reasonable price. Details can be found here.

Field Notes: On Making Space for the Soul

Flowering offering of rest — at Hidcote Gardens, Hidcote Bartrim, England (June 2014)

Part of keeping the soul moist is allowing oneself to be refilled by the waters of space, rest, openness and attuning to our natural rhythms. It involves tending to the sensory, intuitive-animal part of the body and listenly deeply to its longings and wisdom.

I get that this is often easier said than done.

For me, I am learning how to give myself this space. Instead of waiting until I have run myself ragged.

Our bodies and souls need freedom, space, loving attention and a return to our inherent wholeness — our natural state.

Time to be receptive. To slow down. To have open spaces. To be in nature.

This kind of space and deep rest is something we can only give ourselves. I’m painfully aware that the only thing that stands in the way of these kind of open spaces and soul tending is me. 

All the goodness I desire, all the things that most nourish me, are always present when I want them.

Beauty, wonder, love, stillness, contentment, gratitude, appreciation, the natural world, space.

It’s always present — all the time. For all of us.

A few weeks ago I took the Labor Day weekend as a kind of at-home retreat. It wasn’t planned, but it was so very needed.  

I slept out in my cottage by myself that weekend to dream my own dreams and be in my own space. I read, I journaled, I moved slowly and without a plan.

In those three days of space and stillness, I felt a fullness and a roundedness as if connecting with an underground spring. In this place, ideas, words, and the wisdom of my soul come flowing in. 

One night, I stood outside of the cottage. The sky was clear and filled with so many stars. More stars than I have ever seen.

They filled the night sky with such magic and mystery that it made my heart swoon with its enormity. 

This is what making space offers us.

The chance to see how vast, abundant, expansive and glittering our lives are, just as they are, right now. How vast we are, too. Us shining souls  — each borne of special starlight and traveling from the fartherest reaches of the Universe to arrive exactly where we are right now.

This is what I am learning about my own soul care. How making space and keeping my soul moist is what allows me to do my work and fully live. It gives me strength and reconnects me to my purpose. It allows me to recharge so my own unique light can stay ignited.

Tell me, how do you make space for your soul? Tell me a memory of when your soul felt most alive?

Field Notes: How to Moisten a Parched Soul

Raindrops on leaf, front yard, 8/12/14

Part of my passion with my clients is tending to the health and care of their soul. Sometimes this requires energetic attunements and sometimes what the soul needs is more practical, like making time to do the things that truly makes your heart sing.

When our soul is in good shape — bright, radiant and well-fed — all of our life can blossom in beautiful ways.

I know how important the care of the soul is, and how easy it can be to ignore the care of the soul in the face of our busy lives.

I have a strong Jackson work ethic to get things done. Ask my Dad how he is, and you will hear all the things he’s been doing that day. (And he’s retired!)

Of course, I don’t want to stop my drive for making things happen.

But when this drive is not in balance for me, it can show up as overworking, staying up past when my body is tired, not making time to garden, write, move my body, or be with those I love.

When I get “too busy,” I set aside the things that really nourish me on a deep level. My spiritual practices get short-shrift, and I don't feel I have time to just be and breathe.

In these times when I have stopped doing things I love and am so busy I don't have an open day on my calendar, I feel brittle inside and my heart gets uncomfortably tight.

My inner landscape feels like a parched desert, cracking and dusty from lack of rain.

I was listening to a recording of Clarissa Pinkola Estes from her book, Women Who Run With Wolves, last week.

As she talked about what the wild woman needs for survival, Dr. Estes talked about how staying "moist" is essential, how much woman at their core need time to be in their most natural state.

I thought about my own soul and my own heart lately. How there was a strength and a health that felt new.

As I have watered and fed my soul cravings more diligently this year, inwardly I felt more fertile and lush, made supple and moist by my inner tending.

I know that my soul stays moist when I make time to:

• Write or journal regularly
• Be in nature and to garden
• Take photographs of natural beauty I notice
• Read before bed and read for pleasure
• Laugh deeply and with abandon
• Explore and try new things, places and experiences
• Be present to those I love
• Play and connect with Michael and Grace
• Make delicious food
• Hike in the woods
• Sit on the porch swing under the hickory tree in the backyard
• Have time my writing cottage/hermitage
• Sing, dance and listen to music
• Create and make art
• Take a bath
• Have open space with nothing I have to do
• Sit and watch the birds outside

This is my list. And many of these items were not being regularly practiced when my soul felt dehydrated.

Your list will be different, of course. But you also know those things that your soul longs for and withers without.

My recent experience made it clearer than ever how essential it is to keep our souls fed and watered.

I celebrate the how the inner landscape of my soul is feeling lush with growth again, as if green shoots, soft grass and velvet moss now cover the spaces that were barren.

I hope that your soulspace is verdant and fertile and thriving, too.

And if you notice that inwardly you are in a kind of a drought, I suggest taking a few long drinks of whatever fills your heart up.

Tell me, how does the inner landscape of your soul feel? What does your soul need to stay moist?

P.S. Did you see that I'm sending out Messages of Hope? I would love to send one to you — click here for details on how to receive this gift from me to you.