20150123_160157Winter greetings from a snowy mountain outside of Taos, New Mexico.
 Thanks to generous friends (who are off prancing on a beach in Mexico), I’m all nestled in their adobe abode with a sweet pup and my kind husband.
 After less than two nights here, I’m already feeling the healing rejuvenation that this change of environment is providing; the crisp mountain air, snow-illuminated forests, sunshine under blue skies, twinkling stars and glowing planets at night, the majestic rocks that top these ancient hills, warming winter foods and teas, writing, reading, all within this deliciously slowed down passage into the depths of winter. My heart fills with joy from the abundance of blessings I choose to recognize and receive with deep gratitude.
Once my husband leaves to go forth and resume his role as Director of Nursing, I’ll be on a self-structured retreat for my rejuvenation, reflection, and healing. This sacred time is also to focus and plan for my ever-evolving livelihood. Speaking of livelihood, a few folks have wondered what I do for a living, and my mother wants to know what I do with my time! You may care to know as well, so here’s a description of what I offer to the world:
  • StoryHealing: Healing Heart Stories and Nurses Speak
  • Writing: My memoir is 250 pages in, and a compelling, personal story of mine has been published in Journey to Joy. I keep a dream journal, update this blog regularly, write morning and evening pages, and share my lovely little newsletter (which you may sign up for on any page of this website).
  • Coaching: I offer one-on-one and group life coaching.
  • Cooking: Creation and delivery of warming winter soups for Santa Feans. (Contact me if interested, and I’ll direct you to my soup events page.)
  • Art: Preparing to expose the beautiful art of Clayton Pehslakai, a dear friend who is a talented Navajo painter, sculptor, and jeweler. 
  • Health and Nutrition: At long last, I’m promoting Cellgevity, a nutritional supplement that changed our life by radically improving our health. It’s distributed through The Glutathione Company
You see, here in the Wild West (and, of course, elsewhere), many of us have multiple, simultaneous projects which tap into our talents and passions. This sure does keep life interesting while helping to pay the bills! For me, as always, it’s all about being of joyful service.






Meanwhile, I’m enjoying the silence up here on the mountain, a silence that is occasionally broken beautifully by the caw of a raven, the sound of it’s black wings beating air, or the cacophonic symphony of a flock of magpies in the snowy treetops.


Living in such peaceful quiet and natural beauty, I’m feeling deeply nourished. I’m naturally drawn to inner silence and it’s a treat to discover that meditation is not something I feel I need or have to do; I just feel like sitting quietly and breathe. Doing so with such ease is a welcomed relief to my recently harried mind. After some personal struggles, as mentioned in my last blog post, I’m now feeling fully attuned to the inward nature of winter, reaping the simple joys that support my health and peace at all all levels.

As Deepak Choprah said in a recent blog post, “Silent meditation is the perfect vehicle for attuning yourself to the rhythm of every season, including winter. You will know you’re attuned in winter when you notice the following:

  • You find the cold bracing and invigorating.
  • You feel more inward in wintertime with enjoyment of the extra rest you give yourself.
  • Your body feels warm and nourished.
  • You have sharp perceptions (a sign of healthy Vata).
  • You find your sleep naturally extends a little more than usual.”

As my friend, Dr. Michelle PIticolas, wrote, “In nature, winter is a time of hibernation and dormancy, of restoration and renewal. For human beings, it also a time of reflection and reconnection to vision and purpose. We are invited to step out of the flow of the material life and listen to our hearts.” My stepping out is working for me to drop-in. And I hope you get plenty of time to slow down and enjoy the rhythm of the winter and within.

In the tradition of ending my missives with something inspiring from a great poet that is related to my post, I share these wise words of David Whtye on silence:

“All of our great traditions, religious, contemplative and artistic, say that you must a learn how to be alone—and have a relationship with silence. It is difficult, but it can start with just the tiniest quiet moment.

“Being quiet in the midst of a frenetic life is like picking up a new instrument. If you’ve never played the violin and you try to play it for the first time, every muscle in your body hurts. Your neck hurts, you don’t know how to hold that awkward wavy thing called a bow, you can’t get your knuckles round to touch the strings, you can’t even find where the notes are, you are just trying to get your stance right. Then you come back to it again, and again, and suddenly you can make a single buzzy note. The time after that, you can make a clearer note. No one, not even you, wants to listen to you at first. But one day, there is a beautiful succession of notes and, yes, you have played a brief, gifted, much appreciated passage of music.

“This is also true for the silence inside you; you may not want to confront it at first. But a long way down the road, when you inhabit a space fully, you no longer feel awkward and lonely. Silence turns, in effect, into its opposite, so it becomes not only a place to be alone but also a place that’s an invitation to others to join you, to want to know who’s there, in the quiet.”



 With wishes for your seasonal attuning and the nourishing peace of silence,