From my blue chair . . .
Turning Toward Next
The year is turning again now.
December 2025
The year is turning again now. As promised, I’m posting an updated version of my annual reflection practice. This practice offers a way to fully embrace all that this darkening-before-the-light time of year has to offer. To engage this practice, carve out a protected chunk of time to be still and listen to the voice in you that arises when you put pen to the page. Be willing to peer into the uncertainty of these times as they are playing out in your life. I trust that this practice will illuminate or clarify what is next for you and give you purchase on your path to fulfillment. Please feel free to share it!
The idea here is to take some time to close up the year and begin to turn towards next year. Part 1, the practice of closing up your year, gives rise to good beginnings. The practice of turning towards what is next (Part 2) by listening for your emerging future, gives a very different flavor to our usual New Year's Resolutions. As my wing women have described, this practice is both gentle and powerful — there is both grace and grit here.
This practice will acquaint you with your inner Wisdom Council, which is a most wonderful and effective way to experience and get access to the fundamental capacities of grace and grit. The Wisdom Council is an archetypal ever-present inner "committee" that is always with you, and as you will discover, we all have one!
So, do you already have a practice or ritual way to close up the year and open to what is next? If not, I highly recommend it. If so, you already know how wonderful and beneficial it is and you might want to try this.
Part One - Closing Up the Year
Download the Wisdom Council inquiry questions and then carve out a little uninterrupted time (+/- 30 minutes) to cozy up with a cup of tea to really take stock with the first part of this practice. Give it your full attention to facilitate closure to the year in a very remarkable way. Have your journal handy, or just some paper and a pencil will do. Free write into these questions by putting your pencil to the page and just write whatever comes up for a few minutes without lifting the pencil. Remind yourself that your responses are for your eyes only, unless you want to share with a trusted friend, companion, or spouse.
Part Two - Turning Towards the Next
Give yourself as much as a week, or as little as an hour, before picking up Part Two, wherein the Wisdom Council questions will have you look ahead with the clarity and compassion of the closure afforded you by of Part One.
(Be sure to Bookmark this page so that you can refer back to it easily later . . . )
Note: Wisdom Council inquiries are powerful stuff. Please let these questions, and your responses to them, penetrate your heart, mind, and will-to-act. Let them begin to do their work as the year turns and unfolds in the coming months.
I have found that the most resourceful decisions arise out of incubation in deep stillness. May you find some of that deep stillness as the year turns and may the year ahead astonish us with all its beauty, truth and goodness!
Warmly, Lyedie
December 2025
Putney, Vermont
Photo credit: Elizabeth Ungerleider
Steadying ourselves with Beauty, Truth and Goodness
“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo. “So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times. But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.” J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
November 2024
“I wish it need not have happened in my time,” said Frodo.
“So do I,” said Gandalf, “and so do all who live to see such times.
But that is not for them to decide. All we have to decide is what
to do with the time that is given us.”
J.R.R. Tolkien, The Fellowship of the Ring
Good morning from my blue chair,
Continuing to work with holding steady along with taking swift action, I’m writing to share my annual November reflective writing practice with you . . .
This November practice invites you to reflect back carefully over the year through the lens of Beauty, Truth and Goodness. On this fresh morning the world does seem to be in a ruckus — and when I dropped into this writing practice myself, I found the ruckus as well as some solace. These are hard times to keep our hearts strong and open. It appears that collectively we are not doing so well with sharing power. There are winners and losers everywhere. So finding the beauty, truth and goodness has become all the more compelling as we seek to steady ourselves and find a way to contribute somehow.
For those of you who have dropped into this practice in years past, you will see that I’ve kept it the same, confident that these questions will always bring a fresh response as we look back over the past year to find the Beauty, Truth and Goodness that is there.
Carve out some time to reflect on the last year in your journal. (Pulling out your calendar to jog your memory might be helpful.) With pen in hand or fingers on your keyboard, soften your gaze as you scan back over the past year and respond to the prompts below. You can do this for the year in one sweep or take each season as I suggest below. The invitation here is to be responding to these prompts four times, beginning with the winter a year ago. (Could take you as long as an hour or so to complete . . . ) Significant milestones or intimate moments in your answers are all appropriate. I think you will find that specificity gives wonderful depth to the process.
For each of the seasons, Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall:
Describe a time that you experienced beauty.
In what way(s) were you the cause of something beautiful?
In what way(s) was a hard truth revealed to you?
In what way(s) did you reveal or speak a hard truth?
In what way(s) was a beautiful truth revealed to you?
In what way(s) did you reveal or speak a beautiful truth?
In what way(s) were you on the receiving end of goodness?
In what way(s) were you the cause of goodness?
Upon completion, give yourself a little time to let your responses settle in you. Take a walk or a bath, if you can, and take in the beauty, truth and goodness that you found when you put pen to page. Stay with the hard truth that may have surfaced and seek support from wise loved ones if you feel the need. You might want to capture some further reflections before moving into the fullness of your day or evening.
I’ll be posting my annual year end practice in December, which will give you an opportunity to look ahead and consider any reorientation, renewed commitments, or actions that all of this may inspire in you.
May we all find our way to contribute. May we all wage peace . . .
Warmly, Lyedie
One final note: Yesterday morning in our writing group a friend read this poem and it landed for me, so I thought I’d share it with you.
How the Light Comes
I cannot tell you
how the light comes.
What I know
is that it is more ancient
than imagining.
That it travels
across an astounding expanse
to reach us.
That it loves
searching out
what is hidden
what is lost
what is forgotten
or in peril
or in pain.
That it has a fondness
for the body
for finding its way
toward flesh
for tracing the edges
of form
for shining forth
through the eye,
the hand,
the heart.
I cannot tell you
how the light comes,
but that it does.
That it will.
That it works its way
into the deepest dark
that enfolds you,
though it may seem
long ages in coming
or arrive in a shape
you did not foresee.
And so
may we this day
turn ourselves toward it.
May we lift our faces
to let it find us.
May we bend our bodies
to follow the arc it makes.
May we open
and open more
and open still
to the blessed light
that comes.
by Jan Richardson
Summer Mudra — Fire element
Continuing with my offering of Tai Chi Mudras that my teacher, Virginia Scholl, has been sharing with my Tai Chi class.
Here Virginia goes through the Summer Mudra 3 times, with the last in silence. Follow along with the transcript to the left.
Summer Mudra — The Element of Fire
Continuing with my offering of Tai Chi Mudras that my teacher, Virginia Scholl, has been sharing with my Tai Chi class.
Summer is the season of fire according to Tai Chi Philosophy, it is a full yang season wherein we collect the warmth to last all year. The ability to love is essential to fire. To come from the heart with our inner fire. To radiate our true fire out into the world.
May the flame
Within me
Shine forth
May it open my heart
So that the warmth and radiance
I put out into the world,
Comes from a place of compassion.
When the fire element is balanced within us,
we are accessible and responsive to others,
and able to communicate clearly with them.
We are able to love deeply
and be loved deeply.
We can live with abundant spirit
and walk the unique path chartered
by our own, no-other-like-it heart.
The fire phase encourages us to mature
and to flourish, to lighten up
and explore the adventures of life.
Fire helps us to be spontaneous and express
our true nature to the world.
The warmth, passion and joy of Fire
are available to us each moment
that we stay alive to ourselves
and to the fullness of life in others and in all nature.
~ Ann Bailey
Spring Mudra - Elements of Wood and Wind
Continuing with my offering of Tai Chi Mudras that my teacher, Virginia Scholl, has been sharing with my Tai Chi class.
Spring Mudra – The Elements of Wood and Wind
Continuing with my offering of Tai Chi Mudras that my teacher, Virginia Scholl, has been sharing with my Tai Chi class.
Spring is the season of wood and wind according to Tai Chi Philosophy, it is also associated with waking up, pushing up and out from the depths, a renewed energy. A youthful masculine energy emerges at this time of year — grandiose and pushy at times! This is a time of new beginnings when life bursts forth in uninhibited joy, when hope returns and everything is growing towards the light.
There is incredible drive and determination available during this season of wood and wind. This energy can take us away with it, giving rise to impatience and impulsivity. Conversely it can be hard to meet, resulting in feeling overwhelmed and even a bit depressed in the presence of the all the greening and blooming. If we, like the trees around us, are well rooted deep in the earth and in our past, we can stand tall in the present moment and reach toward our visions for the future.
Practicing this Mudra supports me helps me to fully accept the invitation spring offers. I urge you to try following along with Virginia in this video. It takes only a few minutes, even if you slow it way down. It is a lovely way to begin or end your day
Whispering these words to yourself quietly as you learn the movements:
Holding these seeds in my hands and planting.
The roots push down, stems push up into, buds, and flowers.
Then falling back down to earth
to bring what is inside to the outside.
And standing in this present moment, I acknowledge
Where I have come from and where I am going
With strength and kindness to bring me home.
Here Virginia goes through the Spring Mudra 3 times, with the last in silence. To activate subtitles, click the CC square in bottom bar.
Accepting Winter's Invitation - Activating the Stillness
Breaking News: Winter is releasing its grip.
February 4th
Breaking News:
Winter is releasing its grip. Here we are, midway between the Winter Solstice and the Spring Equinox. On this archeoastrological day of Imbolc . . . you can trust that delicate awakenings are occurring in the deep.
I am continuing with my offering of Tai Chi Mudras that my teacher, Virginia Scholl, has been sharing with my Tai Chi class. Winter is the season of water according to Tai Chi Philosophy, it is also associated with going into the depths and with stillness. Practicing this Mudra helps me to accept the invitation that is inherent in winter. Especially, if you find this time of year difficult, I urge you to try following along with Virginia in this video. It takes only a few minutes, even if you slow it way down. It is a lovely way to begin or end your day.
Whispering these words to yourself quietly as you learn the movements:
May I rest in the stillness of winter
May I cherish my dreams and my intuition
Guide me from fear to courage
And teach me to look deep in the mirror of my soul
Here Virginia goes through the Winter Mudra 3 times, with the last in silence. To activate subtitles, click the CC square in bottom bar.
Turning Towards Next:
The resolutions of the calendar new year are shedding their grandiosity. This is a good time to gently turn into the rising energy of the year and see what is emerging in you and in your life. Gardeners pull out their seed catalogues — I find it is a good time give a few hours to turn towards what is next by consulting with the Wisdom Council. You can find those reflection questions by clicking here. Perhaps it is time to sort the seeds of your new years resolutions and decide which ones to nourish with your attention and energy?
Perhaps you feel some new stirrings and desires that are wanting to emerge...
The days are lengthening.
The sun is strengthening.
The energy is shifting, but it is very subtle at this threshold. It takes courage to stay with the intimate stillness of winter. It takes holding power, being a source of warmth for yourself and others . . . and sensing into messages that are gestating in the stillness of winter.
I hope you are wintering well!
Warmly, Lyedie
And please note: Next up is Spring!
Thanks to Elizabeth Ungerleider for her photo
Beauty, Truth and Goodness on this fresh morning, in this broken world . . .
I’m writing to share the first in a series of my annual reflective writing practices with you.
it is a serious thing
just to be alive
on this fresh morning
in this broken world
- Mary Oliver
Good morning from my blue chair,
I’m writing to share the first in a series of my annual reflective writing practices with you. This November practice invites you to reflect back carefully over the year through the lens of Beauty, Truth and Goodness. On this fresh morning the world does seem broken and when I dropped into this writing practice myself, I found the brokenness as well as the wholeness — These are hard times to keep our hearts strong and open. So finding the beauty, truth, and goodness has become all the more compelling as we seek to steady ourselves and find a way to contribute somehow.
For those of you who have dropped into this practice in years past, you will see that I’ve added a new element this year — prompting you to look into both the beautiful and hard truths which are revealing themselves.
Here is the revised practice: Finding the Beauty, Truth and Goodness in the Year
Carve out some time to reflect on the last year in your journal, and then ideally to take a walk or a bath. Pulling out your calendar to jog your memory might be helpful. Then I suggest just softening your gaze back over the past year and responding to the prompts below. You can do this for the year in one sweep or take each season as I suggest below. The invitation here is to be responding to these prompts four times, beginning with the winter a year ago. (Could take you as long as an hour or so to complete . . . ) Significant milestones or intimate moments in your answers are all appropriate. I think you will find that specificity gives wonderful depth to the process.
For each of the seasons, Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall:
Describe a time that you experienced beauty.
In what way(s) were you the cause of something beautiful?
In what way(s) was a hard truth revealed to you?
In what way(s) did you reveal or speak a hard truth?
In what way(s) was a beautiful truth revealed to you?
In what way(s) did you reveal or speak a beautiful truth?
In what way(s) were you on the receiving end of goodness?
In what way(s) were you the cause of goodness?
Upon completion, give yourself a little time to let your responses settle in you. Take a walk or a bath, if you can, and take in the beauty, truth and goodness that you found when you put pen to page. You might want to capture some further reflections before moving into the fullness of your day or evening.
I’ll be posting my annual year end practice in December, which will give you an opportunity to look ahead and consider any reorientation, renewed commitments, or actions that all of this may inspire in you.
May we all find our way to contribute. May we all wage peace . . .
Warmly, Lyedie
Every morning you rise, I want you to remember this:
there are amazing things
to be a part of,
and fight for,
and feel,
because the world
will unlock hundreds
of doors when you
give this day
all the courage, love,
and intensity
you can.
Victoria Erickson (author, The Edge of wonder)
Photo credit goes to Gay Foster with gratitiude
Activating Mountain Energy - Practices for invoking late autumn Grace
Here I am continuing with my offering of Tai Chi Mudras that my teacher, Virginia Scholl has been sharing with my Tai Chi class.
Here I am continuing with my offering of Tai Chi Mudras that my teacher, Virginia Scholl has been sharing with my Tai Chi class. Late Autumn is the season of Metal according to Tai Chi Philospohy, it is also associated with Mountain Energy. I’m struck by how this Mudra invokes a sovereign capacity that many of my clients are stepping into as they develop their ability to take leadership in their personal and professional lives. The sovereign capacity, as I define it here, is the ability to hold a vision through the ebbs and flows of time, to affirm self and others, to be deeply trustworthy.
So below you will find a video for the Metal/Mountain Mudra and a few sovereign building practices I’ve gleaned from practicing the Metal Mudra.
Here are a few practices to develop the sovereignty of metal / mountain energy in your daily life.
Endeavor to take a lesson from the trees — how they stand tall as they gently let go of their leaves - to relinquish that which has been brought to full harvest
Allow the sharp edged thoughts that arise in your mind to descend down into your heart where your compassion can soften and transform them
Look for the hidden treasures, even in these darkening times. And ask yourself if you’d be willing to receive these gifts
Look back out over the year as if you are on a mountain top. See all that you have received and all that you have lost from a heightened perspective that is also grounded by a wide base.
Invite yourself to trust that you are part of the great unfolding: Consider the time it took to form mountains, the time it took for the tree to form the leaves that are now drifting to the ground, the time it takes for grief to work its way through us.
Be the mountain in all its grace and sovereignty
To activate subtitles, click the CC square in bottom bar.
May the diamond clarity of mind
Descend to my heart
To reveal the treasures of my life
Accepting what I have received and what I have lost
And trusting what is invisible and what is hidden
Know that you are always eligible for grace . . .
More on Metal / Mountain Energy from my teacher’s teacher . . .
Of all the five element, perhaps it is Metal that we Westerners find most difficult to comprehend, The word usually evokes in us something rigid, sharp and uncompromising; something harsh, demanding or judgemental.
From a Chinese perspective, Metal is associated with the season of Autumn. It is a time of loss and grief, yet in its clarity and purity it brings us closest to the place of spirit and the work of bringing spirit into form. This is the abode of the sage, the Hermit and the Mentor, those who understand the lessons of receiving and releasing when experience turns into understanding. Autumn presides over all separations and asks us to turn inward, to examine what we have brought to full harvest, to decide what we need to keep and what we need to relinquish. It teaches us to know the balance between appreciating the beauty of life and mourning its loss. This is the time of year when we search for something uncorrupted; a time to turn inwards, a time to find the jewels, the treasures we hold within ourselves.
. . . Like the season itself, Metal spirit asks us to find what is of essential worth, what is of real value in our lives. Although its lessons are not easy ones, Metal’s spirit knows we are always eligible for grace. It teaches us to let go without giving up, without losing trust. It reminds us that with acceptance and surrender, we are able to let go of the old so that something new can be born.
Metal’s spirit knows we are always
Eligible for grace
It reminds us that we are never past healing
And never beyond hope
It has a purity that precludes judgement
And teaches us to trust our innate value
Metal asks us to find
What is of essential worth in our lives;
To understand the dynamic
Between appreciating the beauty of life
And mourning its loss
It is the holy grail
As well as the search for it
Cielle Tewksbury, November 2009
Activating Earth Energy - Practices for bringing strength to our compassion
I’ve found that life becomes distinctly more wonderful when we begin to work and play in accord with the seasons.
Life starts all over again
when it gets crisp in the fall.
~ F. Scott Fitzgerald
I’ve found that life becomes distinctly more wonderful when we begin to work and play in accord with the seasons. So I thought I’d share.
In Tai Chi the elements are closely associated with the seasons and the practice helps me find this accord. In the last few weeks my Tai Chi teacher, Virginia Scholl, has been attuning us to the transition from summer to fall by offering this Earth Mudra (see video below) to our small class. Surrounded by the bounty of autumn, we have been bringing in the earth energy I associate with heart centered warrior-ship. This energy, and the capacities that it gives rise to, are often needed by people who care deeply — Capacities like being centered, grounded, balanced, intentional in word and deed. This Mudra provides somatic support for bringing strength to our compassion. This is what I call grit.
Here are a few practices to develop earth energy in your daily life.
Endeavor to take on less and then stay with the projects you start.
Express yourself more clearly by saying what you observe, how it makes you feel and why, and what you would like to see happen. (Clean talk)
Listen to your own inner voices and take their messages seriously.
Lower your center of gravity so as to feel more centered in your self and be less thrown off balance by other people’s problems, needs, demands, or opinions.
Let the earth and the very substance of your body give you a sense of solidity; so that when you meet an obstacle, you can stay clear on your intention and work to find a way to solve the problem and move ahead.
Look for where the activities you are engaged in are generating results. Take a few moments to register these. Savor them and see them as your bountiful harvest. This will help you see the world as fertile ground for your good work.
Hold your ground. Feel your grit . . . :)
To activate subtitles, click the CC square in bottom bar.
Holding and being held by the earth
May I be centered, balanced, and rooted
And in my desire to nurture and care for others
May I remember to extend that same care to myself
Enjoy!
(Practices adapted from Tai Chi wisdom as written by Lorie Dechar; Bronze sculpture by Linda Hoffman)
Turning Toward Next with Grace and Grit
As this year turns into the next one, I send you warm and light-filled greetings.
Hello, Lyedie here.
As this year turns into the next one,
I send you warm and light-filled greetings.
Lyedie
May you grow still enough to hear the small noises earth makes in preparing for the long sleep of winter, so that you yourself may grow calm and grounded deep within.
May you grow still enough to hear the trickling of water seeping into the ground, so that your soul may be softened and healed, and guided in its flow.
May you grow still enough to hear the splintering of starlight in the winter sky and the roar at earth’s fiery core.
May you grow still enough to hear the stir of a single snowflake in the air, so that your inner silence may turn into hushed expectation.
— Brother David Steindl-Rast
Click here to receive the gift of my annual year-end practice.
Where was the Beauty, Truth and Goodness in this tumultuous year?
I’m writing to share my annual reflective writing practice with you — Finding the Beauty, Truth and Goodness in the year.
Good morning,
I’m writing to share my annual reflective writing practice with you — Finding the Beauty, Truth and Goodness in the year.
Last week, the Gingko tree out in front of my office here in Putney was shining a brilliant yellow and then one morning when I came to work, she had shed her leaves creating a glorious circle of yellow in the bright green grass on the common. This is her autumnal habit, prompted by the first night that the temperature descends to precisely 29 degrees. My autumnal habit is to reflect back as I collect the leaves from the ground with a practice I developed that is inspired by a passage I found in Jean Yves Leloup’s translation of the Gospel of Mary Magdalene*. This late autumn reflection prepares me to turn towards next as the solstice and calendar year-end approaches.
Here is the practice: Finding the Beauty, Truth and Goodness in the Year
Carve out some time to reflect on the last year in your journal. Pulling out your calendar to jog your memory might be helpful. Then just soften your gaze back over the past year and respond to the prompts below for each of the four seasons. The invitation here is to respond to these six prompts four times, beginning with the winter a year ago. (Could take you as long as an hour or so to complete . . . ) Significant milestones or intimate moments in your answers are all appropriate. I think you will find that specificity gives wonderful depth to the process.
For each of the seasons, Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall:
Describe a time that you experienced beauty.
In what way(s) were you the cause of something beautiful?
In what way(s) was the truth revealed to you?
In what way(s) did you reveal or speak the truth?
In what way(s) were you on the receiving end of goodness?
In what way(s) were you the cause of goodness?
Upon completion, give yourself a little time to let your responses settle in you. I invite you to feel the interplay of these three fundamental threads in the tapestry of your life. Take a walk or a bath and take in the beauty, truth and goodness that you found when you put pen to page.
I’ll be posting my annual year end practice, Turning Towards Next, in December, which will give you an opportunity to look ahead and consider any reorientation, renewed commitments, or actions that all of this may inspire in you.
Enjoy, and may we all wage peace . . .
Warmly, Lyedie
November 11, 2022
Putney, Vermont
*(Click here to find that passage on the About page of my website)
Do you have the patience to wait
until your mud settles,
and the water is clear?
Can you remain unmoving
until the right action
arises by itself?
— Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching
Photo credit: Elizabeth Ungerleider
Turning Toward Next in the Midst of All This Uncertainty . . .
The year is turning again now.
December 2021
Turning Towards Next in the Midst of All This Uncertainty
The year is turning again now. As promised, I’m posting my annual reflection practice. This practice offers a way to fully embrace all that this darkening-before-the-light time of year has to offer. To engage this practice, carve out a protected chunk of time to be still and listen to the voice in you that arises when you put pen to the page. Be willing to peer into the uncertainty of these times as they are playing out in your life. I trust that this practice will illuminate or clarify what is next for you and give you purchase on your path to fulfillment. Please feel free to share it!
The idea here is to take some time to close up the year and begin to turn towards next year. Part 1, the practice of closing up — your day, week, month, year — gives rise to good beginnings. The practice of turning towards what is next (Part 2) by listening for your emerging future, gives a very different flavor to our usual New Year's Resolutions. As my wing women have described, this practice is both gentle and powerful — there is both grace and grit here.
This practice will acquaint you with your inner Wisdom Council, which is a most wonderful and effective way to experience and get access to the fundamental capacities of grace and grit. The Wisdom Council is an archetypal ever-present inner "committee" that is always with you, and as you will discover, we all have one!
So, do you already have a practice or ritual way to close up the year and open to what is next? If not, I highly recommend it. If so, you already know how wonderful and beneficial it is and you might want to try this.
Part One - Closing Up the Year
Download the Wisdom Council inquiry questions and then carve out a little uninterrupted time (+/- 30 minutes) to cozy up with a cup of tea to really take stock with the first part of this practice. Give it your full attention to facilitate closure to the year in a very remarkable way. Have your journal handy, or just some paper and a pencil will do. Free write into these questions by putting your pencil to the page and just write whatever comes up for a few minutes without lifting the pencil. Remind yourself that your responses are for your eyes only, unless you want to share with a trusted friend, companion, or spouse.
Part Two - Turning Towards the Next
Give yourself as much as a week, or as little as an hour, before picking up Part Two, wherein the Wisdom Council questions will have you look ahead with the clarity and compassion of the closure afforded you by of Part One.
Click here to download the questions in pdf format
Please feel free to be guided through the practice with the audio recordings below if you’d like.
(Be sure to Bookmark this page so that you can refer back to it easily later . . . )
Note: Wisdom Council inquiries are powerful stuff. Please let these questions, and your responses to them, penetrate your heart, mind, and will-to-act. Let them begin to do their work as the year turns and unfolds in the coming months.
I have found that the most resourceful decisions arise out of incubation in deep stillness. May you find some of that deep stillness as the year turns and may the year ahead astonish us with all its beauty, truth and goodness!
Warmly, Lyedie
December 2021
Putney, Vermont
May you grow still enough to hear the small noises earth makes in preparing for the long sleep of winter, so that you yourself may grow calm and grounded deep within.
May you grow still enough to hear the trickling of water seeping into the ground, so that your soul may be softened and healed, and guided in its flow.
May you grow still enough to hear the splintering of starlight in the winter sky and the roar at earth’s fiery core.
May you grow still enough to hear the stir of a single snowflake in the air, so that your inner silence may turn into hushed expectation.
— Brother David Steindl-Rast
Photo credit: Elizabeth Ungerleider
Finding Beauty, Truth and Goodness in a Year of Grief
I’m writing to share an annual reflective writing practice again with you — Finding the Beauty, Truth and Goodness in the year.
Good morning from my blue chair,
I’m writing to share an annual reflective writing practice again with you — Finding the Beauty, Truth and Goodness in the year.
Yesterday, the Gingko tree out in front of my office here in Putney was shining a brilliant yellow and this morning she shed all her leaves at once in a snow-like flurry. This is her autumnal habit, prompted by the first night that the temperature descends to precisely 29 degrees. My autumnal habit is to reflect back over the year as I collect the leaves from the ground. This has been a particularity exquisite year for me. Painful, beautiful, and heart opening, it has been both difficult and fulfilling. Just a few days after Thanksgiving 2020, my dear mum’s delicate heart gently gave up and she passed away peacefully. With a lot of good help and a measure of luck, we managed to care for her in her Florida home while navigating all the complexity of the pandemic. Today, I’m gently giving myself permission to relive her last weeks. Reliving the beauty, the hard truth, and the goodness of that time we had together tending to mum as she went out ahead of us.
For many, this has been a year full of loss. Working with grief is a capacity these times are calling forth in us. During these tumultuous times, loss is not only felt when we lose a loved one. Many of us are also grieving for a lost way of life, for relationships we thought we could depend on, and for the health of the planet, among other things. Dropping-in to the reflective writing practice I’m offering here may squeeze some necessary grief up onto the surface of your attention. If so, embrace it as best you can. Scroll down to the musings on grief that bubbled up for me, which I’m sharing in the hope it may be helpful somehow.
Here is the practice: Finding the Beauty, Truth and Goodness in the Year
Carve out some time to reflect on the last year in your journal. Pulling out your calendar to jog your memory might be helpful. Then I suggest just softening your gaze back over the past year and responding to the prompts below for each of the four seasons. The invitation here is to be responding to these six prompts four times, beginning with the winter a year ago. (Could take you as long as an hour or so to complete . . . . ) Significant milestones or intimate moments in your answers are all appropriate. I think you will find that specificity gives wonderful depth to the process.
For each of the seasons, Winter, Spring, Summer, Fall:
Describe a time that you experienced beauty.
In what way(s) were you the cause of something beautiful?
In what way(s) was the truth revealed to you?
In what way(s) did you reveal or speak the truth?
In what way(s) were you on the receiving end of goodness?
In what way(s) were you the cause of goodness?
Upon completion, give yourself a little time to let your responses settle in you. I’ll be posting my annual year end practice in early December, which will give you an opportunity to look ahead and consider any reorientation, renewed commitments, or actions that all of this may inspire in you.
Enjoy this and all that you uncover as you put pen to page.
* * *
Selected Notes from my Beauty, Truth and Goodness journal writing session today:
This year, I have been learning to live without my mother here on the planet. That is the arc that stretches across my year long experience. Throughout this year I have been carrying a softness, a tenderness in the region of my heart that often wells up with a wavelike force and then subsides. Along with the tears that brimmed over in the grocery store aisles and at other surprising and inopportune times, a certain strength has emerged that perhaps I gained from having been with the truth of having witnessed her last breath. I don’t really know, though — the source of the strength remains a mystery to me.
This year I have been walking with grief and also joy. Held by the rhythms of life and the reliable embrace of gravity holding me onto this earth. Steadied by my work, good friends and family. Comforted by regular visits with the natural world. Cheered by the flurry of Gingko leaves.
Winter -
Beauty: Turning inward and tromping in the woods visiting old trees — oak, cherry, white pine, mulberry —
Goodness: Dear friends rallied around me with song and comfort food
Truth: Needing time alone - Daddy’s health faltered
Spring -
Beauty: Gloriously beautiful Sarasa chamber music concert at Brattleboro Music School in May
Goodness: Tentatively unfolding into reveling in the palest greens, spring breezes, and the company of loved ones. Spontaneous gifts left on my porch
Truth: That day I reminded myself that she isn’t there to answer the phone. Recognizing the need to pace myself
Summer -
Beauty: Feeling deeply filled up by being out on my paddle board on South Pond in the evenings
Goodness: Joy in spending time with my rowdy kindle of grandchildren — and then with a dear friend on the Vineyard for a few precious days
Truth: Feeling the impact of my family being so far flung - Portland OR, Colorado, Florida and Norway . . .
Fall -
Beauty: Returning to the hearth fire, collecting Ginkgo leaves
Goodness: Helping my dad travel for the first time in years. Remembering the last bowls of fruit my mother carefully prepared for us
Truth: This morning I spied an owl up in a now leafless tree at the edge of the field I walk past most mornings. Has it been there quietly all along? Onward we go . . .
Musings on grief:
How stunningly hard it is to live through grief. How deeply personal the experience is. How grief forges our hearts if we let it . . .
How grief is a many splendor ed thing — a direct result of love, a doorway to caring more about each other and this extraordinary planet that is our home.
How when I feel my grief, when it visits me and I can allow it to well up, my mother as well as my late sister, Katie, come in closer in some inexplicable way. So, too does the natural world I find myself so deeply connected to.
Grief comes in waves. With mum I watched it come towards me for years. With the sudden death of my sister Katie, almost forty years ago, it came in rogue form, — out of nowhere, quick and devastating. Now they are both part of the ebbing and flowing ocean that is my grief.
Feeling held by life allows me the courage to feel grief and to let it wash through me. For that I’m deeply grateful.
* * *
Sending strength to your heart as I complete this post. Thank you for taking the time to read it.
Warmly, Lyedie
November 11th 2021
Putney, VT
Photo credit: Leslie Williams
Wherever you are on this beautiful planet . . .
In the spirit of full participation in life on this beautiful orb that spins in space, I invite you to pause to celebrate and to register this tiny but unmistakable turning into increased light.
December 21, 2019
Perhaps, like me, you have been in semi-hibernation these last few weeks — scurrying home as early as you possibly can to slip into your jammies to read or watch Netflix. I’ve been surrendering to this impulse, as I find when I do that it doesn’t translate as feeling down or depressed. I do long for those summer evenings when I’m out on my paddle-board until well after nine. They seem so far away and unimaginable to me now, with the sun setting at 4:18 and the darkness bearing down on the day.
So, in the spirit of full participation in life on this beautiful orb that spins in space, I invite you to pause to celebrate and to register this tiny but unmistakable turning into increased light that occurs on this auspicious day. Civilizations have built monuments to capture and magnify this annual momentous occasion. (The Passage Tomb at New Grange in Ireland, The Karnak Temple at Luxor, Egypt, The Standing Stones of Stonehenge, to name a few) But, if we sharpen our attention, we can attune to this moment with our very selves as instrument.
Farmers’ Almanac, “Winter Solstice 2019: When Is It, And What Is It?”
The exact timing depends on where you stand on this magnificent planet. According to the Farmers’ Almanac, 11:19 PM here on the east coast of the US is the moment in clock time. It is great to know the exact timing, but you may feel it it any point in the next few days.
Working with the cycles of life is an important element of finding and forging fulfillment, rather than settling for success. Here is what I’m learning to look for as I attune to the great turning and to register it in my self as instrument:
A subtle but remarkable lightening of my spirit
An increase in energy
A lift in my feeling state
A softening in the regions of my heart
A tiny beam of inspiration
A trickle of forgiveness
A clear yes, or a clear no
Join with the natural world and catch this moment while it is here. It is as subtle as finding the bottom or the top of your breath. And it is easy to miss in all the hubbub . . .
I hope that you have fun with this, and may your holiday include a pause that renews your faith in life itself.
Warmly, Lyedie
Putney, Vermont
Faith
I want to write about faith,
about the way the moon rises
over cold snow, night after night,
faithful even as it fades from fullness,
slowly becoming that last curving and impossible
sliver of light before the final darkness.
But I have no faith myself
I refuse it even the smallest entry.
Let this then, my small poem,
like a new moon, slender and barely open,
be the first prayer that opens me to faith.
By David Whyte
From Where Many Rivers Meet
Where was the Beauty, Truth and Goodness in 2019?
I’ve been scanning back over the year in recent days with my practice development hat on.
Good morning from my blue chair,
I’ve been scanning back over the year in recent days with my practice development hat on. Yesterday I dropped in to an approach to reflecting on the year 2019 through the lenses of beauty, truth and goodness. I found that writing my way into the questions below shone light on this year for me. So, I’m sharing it here in the hope that it will contribute to the waking up and growing up that we all need to do in these wonderful and terrifyingly tumultuous times.
Carve out some time to reflect on the year 2019. Pull out your calendar to jog your memory if need be. Respond to the prompts below for each month in your journal. So, you will be responding to 6 prompts for each month. (Could take you as long as an hour or so to complete . . . . ) Grandness or intimacy in your answers are all appropriate. I think you will find that specificity gives wonderful depth to the process.
In the month of_________: (You could also take it season by season . . . . )
In what way(s) were you the cause of something beautiful?
Describe a time that you experienced beauty?
In what way(s) did you reveal or speak the truth?
In what way(s) was the truth revealed to you?
In what way(s) were you the cause of goodness?
In what way(s) were you on the receiving end of goodness?
Upon completion, give yourself a little time to let your responses settle. The year end practice I’ll be posting in early December will give you an opportunity to consider any action that all of this may inspire in you.
I hope and trust that you will have as much fun with this one as I have!
Warmly, Lyedie
November, 2019
Putney, VT
Photo credit: Leslie Williams
Attuning to the Gorgeous Ruckus of Summer
Mary Oliver’s last book, Upstream, is here at the top of the pile by my Blue Chair.
Mary Oliver’s last book, Upstream, is here at the top of the pile by my Blue Chair. Have you read it yet? I’m inspired by the declaration that she placed carefully on Page 8, “Attention is the beginning of devotion.” That placement was clearly very intentional on Mary’s part, so I sat up and took notice when I read it. I’ve thought a lot about attention over the years, and I feel the intensity of her writerly gaze leap up from the page there, for I have never thought of attention as devotion before. So holding the idea that attention is the beginning of devotion, I turned towards what has captured my attention of late. Summer, in all its warmth and glory has expanded my heart. The cycles inherent in life have been on my mind. I’m starting to see clearly that our very well-being is dependent on our developing effective ways to attune-to and work-actively-with the cyclical nature of the gorgeous raucous. Yes, and attuning is a sensitive activity. It is a series of often small, responsive moves that generate a life enhancing coherence. I dare say, it is the feminine in devoted action.
Summer is the fullest expression of the gorgeous ruckus. Especially, here at the 45th Parallel North, we look forward to it all year and — just like with lottery winnings or rainbow money — we spend it many times over in our imaginations. The abundant apex of daylight hours that nature tenders to us all on the Summer Solstice (15 hours and 37 minutes) has a demanding invitation in it. “Grab hold of this! Enjoy this! Use it well!” The natural world splendidly orients toward responding to this invitation. In the clock-time trance of our linear calendars, the comfort of climate controlled four walls, and the tyranny of our checklists; we humans leave a lot of that warmth and sunshine out of consideration. This constitutes is a lack of attunement.
So as you hone your summer plans here a few questions to devote some attention to if you would like to attune to the gorgeous ruckus:
Is there a seed-longing that I’m harboring that requires the warmth and sunshine of summer?
Is there an opportunity I’d like to seize?
Is there a new rhythm, ritual, or routine that I’d like to put in place with the buoyancy that summer affords?
Is there a “cat” I’d like to be sure hang out with in the sun?
What did I most enjoy about summer as a child, and how might I dip back into those experiences somehow this summer?
When the autumnal equinox rolls around — when the daylight hours have waned back to 12 hours and 7 minutes and the air has gone crisp — what might I regret about how I spent the summer that could be attended to now with a little planning and intentionality?
Looking back over my responses to the questions above , in what way can I attune my plans for the coming months to the invitation of summer?
The summer invites us to slow down and to seize the day all at once. It requires holding the exquisite polarity of claiming life and releasing our grip on it.
Devote yourself to splendid. You might find it will require being fierce about freeing your attention from the linear trance to whatever degree you can. In the gorgeous raucous splendid is splendid, however small or grand.
Please be brave enough to tune in to your deepest longings . . . And remember to make breakfast. Make love. Make some trouble on behalf of beauty, truth, and goodness.
And thank you for the precious attention you gave to reading this post! Lyedie
Turning Toward Next With Grace and Grit
The year is turning now.
The year is turning now. As promised, I added the second part of a two part reflection practice to assist you with fully embracing all that this darkening-before-the-light has to offer.
The idea here is to take some time to close up what for many of us has been a crazy year, and begin to turn towards next year with grace and grit. The practice of closing up — your day, week, month, year — gives rise to good beginnings. The practice of turning towards what is next by listening for your emerging future gives a very different flavor to our usual New Year's Resolutions. I’m confident that you will love this practice as much as I do. My wing women describe it as both gentle and powerful — there is both grace and grit here.
May the year ahead astonish us all with its beauty, truth, and goodness.
This practice will acquaint you with your inner Wisdom Council, which is a most wonderful and effective way to experience and get access to the fundamental capacities of grace and grit. The Wisdom Council is an archetypal ever-present inner "committee" that is always with you, and as you will discover when you engage these practices I’m sharing with you today, we all have one! (I can feel myself squirm a bit as I write these words for fear of sounding too woo woo, but please bear with me. What I’m offering here is a kick ass form of woo woo, and I don’t want you to miss out on account of that little niggledy voice of judgement in me.)
So, do you already have a practice or ritual way to close up the year and open to what is next? If not, I highly recommend it. If so, you already know how wonderful and beneficial it is, and you might want to try this.
Part One - Closing Up the Year
Download the Wisdom Council inquiry questions and then carve out a little uninterrupted time (+/- 30 minutes) to cozy up with a cup of tea to really take stock with the first part of this practice. Give it your full attention to facilitate closure to the year in a very remarkable way. Have your journal handy, or just some paper and a pencil will do. Free write into these questions by putting your pencil to the page and just write whatever comes up for a few minutes without lifting the pencil. Remind yourself that your responses are for your eyes only, unless you want to share with a trusted friend, companion, or spouse.
Part Two - Turning Towards the Next
Give yourself as much as a week, or as little as an hour, before picking up Part Two, wherein the Wisdom Council questions will have you look ahead with the clarity and compassion of the closure afforded you by of Part One.
Click here to download the questions in pdf format
Please feel free to be guided through the practice with the audio recordings below if you’d like.
(Be sure to Bookmark this page so that you can refer back to it easily later . . .)
Note: Wisdom Council inquiries are powerful stuff. Please let these questions, and your responses to them, penetrate your heart, mind, and will-to-act. Let them begin to do their work as the year turns and unfolds in the coming months.
No great thing is created suddenly, any more than a bunch of grapes or a fig. If you tell me that you desire a fig, I answer that there must be time. Let it first blossom, then bear fruit, then ripen. - Epictetus
May the year ahead astonish us with all its beauty, truth and goodness!
Warmly, Lyedie
Putney, Vermont
Harnessing the Energy of Spring
It is a glorious May morning and I'm just in from a walk.
May 2nd, Walpole, New Hampshire
It is a glorious May morning and I'm just in from a walk. While I was out there I got inspired to offer up a few simple practices for harnessing the energy that spring offers. My hope is that you enjoy them, and they are helpful to you in some way.
Many of us are looking to further our intentionality, resourcefulness and the ability to enjoy life. Working with the cycles of nature can help us to understand how to sustain these capacities over time. The practices below are intended to build your capacity:
- To initiate more intentional communications with others
- To work actively with the cycles of the creative process that are inherent in nature
- To be more resourceful
Harnessing the Energy of Spring (A few practices)
Recent breakthroughs in the field of neurobiology are telling us just how connected we are to the natural world and to each other. The palpable uptick of spring is a gorgeous example of this truth. Our bodies and minds are attuned to the waking up energy at play in the natural world. This provides great support for initiating communication, moving up and out in purposeful ways.
Take a Daily Infusion: Carve out time on a daily basis for an infusion of spring. This could be just 7-10 minutes of your lunch break or a longer stretch if your schedule allows. The idea is to go outside and commune with spring as it bursts forth. Leave your mobile phone behind and refrain from engaging in conversation. Dedicate this time to being fully receptive and aware of what is occurring in the natural world — the rain falling, sun warming, buds swelling, ferns unfurling, sap rising. Let it all bring a smile to your face. Invite it infuse your energy level and mood as you go on with your day. Doing this on a daily basis will support the initiating practices outlined below
Reflection: Take note of how being receptive to the uptick of Spring actually shifts your well-being, how it changes your energy level and emotional state.
Look for Opportunities to Break out of Winter’s Grip: As you go through your day, look for ways to break out of the stasis of winter and to push forward into new possibility. The stasis of winter is something we often experience internally as a kind of inertia. When you are on the verge of breaking out of it you might feel euphoric (and a even a little reckless) from the uptick that spring is giving your limbic system. But it is just as likely that you will experience at least a twinge of anxiety and feel your courage quicken. At those times consciously attune yourself to the energy of spring, the “yes” energy of inspiration and yearning; go with that.
Two Ways to Break out of Winter’s Grip:
1. Start Something: Start a project (small or large) that is dear to your heart, one that you have been considering but that has been in the grip of winter's inertia. Initiate that new project at work. Make that recipe that appears daunting. Throw that dinner party. Send that letter of intent. Teach your child how to knit. Hurl yourself into preparing that garden bed.
Reflection: How much energy do you gain by applying your attention and energy to something that is meaningful to you?
2. Break Through and Melt Ice: Communicate intentionally by saying what you see and what you’d like to see. Tell someone what you notice is happening in the space between you. Begin with the data; describe what you observe in as objective and straight forward a way as you can. Then express your warmth and what you hope for, what you would really like to experience and perhaps why. (It could be that there is something you'd like to see more of, or something you’d like to have less of, or perhaps there is something you wish was different than it is.) Be as real as you can, be your authentic self, listen to their response, stand in your intention. This may feel risky at first and I encourage you to start with the small stuff. Sentence stems are a great help:
I notice that . . .
I see that . . .
Followed by
What I’d really like to . . .
What is important to me is . . .
Here are some examples:
I notice that we don't have dinner as a family the way we used to . . . I really miss it and it is important to me that we get back on track by having dinner together at least three times a week.
I notice that when you ask me to make changes in the work I submit for approval, even though I value your input, I get defensive. . . . I'd really like to be able to accept criticism more gracefully and be open to feedback so that we can collaborate more effectively .
I notice that when you greet me at the end of the day with that quick little kiss on my cheek . . . that I really want you to linger there with me a little longer.
Reflections:
What does it take for you to say what you see and to offer your tender hopes to another?
What happens when you do?
How could you become more adept at these conversations?
Go ahead. The idea here is to work with the inherent full-bodied invitation of spring. Experience how spring works with you to support your intentions. Notice how spring invites us, by its very nature, to be restless in our frozen old habits, to envision new patterns and potential, and to move up and out into the fullness of life. I urge you to harness the energy it offers to do what really matters to you.
Feel free to let me know how it goes.
As a life and leadership coach I help my clients develop capacities they need to meet their objectives, and to fulfill their promise. Developing a new capacity is building a new muscle; it takes repeated effort and awareness through practice.
May spring bring be all that you hope for!
Warmly, Lyedie
A Brush With Amazement
Rain was steady and penetrating the other other day, so I took my umbrella when I walked over to the post office to check my mail.
Rain was steady and penetrating the other other day, so I took my umbrella when I walked over to the post office to check my mail. The air was heavy and damp under the protection of the dark strutted arc above me as I walked. I arrived at the post office with my mind on the future; the to do list for the day, the client I was preparing for, scanning to be sure to remember everything. I was in a nice flow of busy.
I pulled my umbrella down and looked around for a spot to lean while I popped into the post office. As I placed the umbrella handle against the mailbox my eyes caught on a soft jewel green wing, a pale brown furry antennae. A Luna moth had come in from the rain and found a safe spot on the windowsill behind the blue metal of the USPS Mailbox.
This delicate winged creature lifted me up and out of my focused busy state. Inspired a smile in me, and I slowed down enough to briefly meet the eyes of my neighbors, who were also going about their routines, “Take a look at what is hiding behind the mailbox. It just made my day!”
The Luna reminded me that it was June, that nature was in a raucous rush to procreate and enjoy its purpose. And so, off I went to the next thing in my carefully planned day having been “mothed” into knowing that somehow I had a part in the raucous rush of this June day. Having taken in a brush with amazement.
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