Good vibrations

These past few summer weeks have been filled with life events. We were sad to learn that our dear aunt and wonderful person on this planet passed away, joyfully attended a beautiful family wedding, received a visit from overseas friends (who brought Georgetown Cupcakes!), made a visit to the ER for stitches for one of the kids…I’m sure that the list isn’t complete. Oh, I had my CT scan last week – I get the results on Tuesday.

In the midst of everything, one of the boys decided to play the Tibetan bowl to help us to relax.

There are probably lots of ways to do this, but we play these bowls by first banging the mallet against the side to get it started (if you are good, you don’t need to kickstart it in this way!). Then we run the mallet around the edge of the bowl to keep the vibrations going and to change the frequency.


J-man got the idea to add water to the bowl and then play it. At first he added a little water and, after he played for awhile, we noticed beautiful vibrations rippling evenly in the water. Then he added more water, and, because some of the water was already energized, we didn’t have to wait as long for the ripples to appear. And more water.

When the bowl was about three-quarters full, we saw this:


The water started jumping straight up, like it was dancing! It was so fun to watch. Since our bodies are made of water, I figure that the vibrations from the bowl must energize those water molecules in a good way too.

Since I went through that really bad spell in March and April, I have slowly been regaining my strength and energy. As I recover, I’ve been especially conscious of what drains my energy and what gives me energy.

I hope that you are able to fill your day with whatever gives you energy, things that make every cell in your body vibrate together and dance.

Love and blessings,

Windows of Opportunity

About two years ago, at Shira’s suggestion, I worked with Dale Swan. Her fabulous work with Tibetan bowls physically changed my energetic vibration in a positive way.

Shortly after we started working together, she was diagnosed with a cancer recurrence. This time around, the diagnosis shook her at her core, and she stopped work to focus on healing.

We connected very occasionally, and each time, I witnessed her struggling more and more. I heard it in our brief phone conversations, could feel it in her emails messages and once, when I ran into her, I saw that she did not have the strength of life force and the confidence that one has when you are feeling well and grounded. To me, she felt smaller and scared, and it scared me.

After that, she sent an email to me saying that writing would help her, but she was unable to get any words out. Could I work with her on that? For a million reasons, I never did get back to her, and we didn’t communicate again.

In recent months, I have been thinking of her and feeling her presence in the way that I feel when people have died. I was afraid to check and kept pushing the feelings away. But recently, I woke in the middle of the night, again with her presence so strong around me. I couldn’t get back to sleep until I googled her name.

And yes, she had died.

I read her obituary. I checked out her website, and I re-read our old email correspondence.

I got to learn all these other dimensions of Dale, like her work with the Indigenous Grandmothers and as an ordained minister, and I was sorry that I didn’t get to explore those with her when she was alive. I was sad that I didn’t step into the opportunity to help her write again.

She did indeed drop into an abyss, but as I read more, I learned that she rose out of it to write again. A few months after she wrote to me, she had a breakthrough and her writing started to flow. She got to record her story for her children and her grandchildren in a way that was powerful for her and, I hope, for them.

I read as her voice grew stronger and she regained her grounding. Learning this made me feel a little less guilty about not stepping up.

Bigger than that, though, I paused in wonder at how, if we are supposed to be doing something, God will somehow provide that window and the support. We may need to be patient, but the opening will appear and we can choose what to do.

For whatever it is that would help you to grow into who you would like to be, I pray that the right openings present themselves and that you are able to see them and step into them. And I am grateful for the openings that I have been given, and for my strength in stepping into the ones that I have. It always changes my life.


Happiness Circle

Thank you for being there in so many ways: in person, through the web, in prayer, and emotionally. Thank you for living your life, every day, in a way that makes the world a better place, even if it might sometimes feel like you are having only the smallest of impact.

A few years ago, my brother-in-law unintentionally introduced me to the idea of a happiness circle. At the time, someone was grumpy in his presence, and he stated in all seriousness, “I don’t want you inside my happiness circle.” To emphasize, he stretched out his arms and indicated a circle slightly wider than his reach. “It extends out to here. If you want to be in this space, you cannot step on my happiness.”

It may have been only one of a million brilliant thoughts for him, but it stuck with me. I love the idea of a happiness circle that surrounds us, even if I typically invite everyone in without regard to their impact on my happiness.

During this past Spring, I paid a visit to a “sound healer.” I went primarily because my friend suggested it and would not let it rest until it got pushed to the top of my list of healing modes to try.

I drove by myself to see this healer at her home in another part of town.

Even though I am firmly ensconced in the world of “alternative healthcare,” I still imagine any new healer to look like the character Tia Dalma from the movie, Pirates of the Caribbean – beautiful, exotic, and a little crazy.

Tia Dalma from Pirates of the Caribbean

But no – I meet another middle-aged woman who dresses very mainstream with a kind, expansive heart and a sensible demeanor. All good.

We sit and chat for about 20 minutes. I get the feeling that she is evaluating how far out into the intangible I might be comfortable discussing. We connect, I trust her, and I decide that this will be an interesting, probably one-time, experience. Like a nice massage.

I lay on the table (like a massage table) – yes, fully clothed – and she begins to play an assortment of Tibetan bowls and a gong. I suddenly remembered my phone. I had planned to turn it off so that I wouldn’t get distracted, but I left it on vibrate. So my session started like this:

  • The bowls feel amazing. The vibrations surprisingly flow through every cell in my body, and I am slightly transported.
  • I pull my psyche away from the vibrations and back into the tangible world as I worry about my phone. Will it ring? Should I turn it off?
  • The strong vibration of the bowls draws me back to them. I feel like I am in the center of the vibrations as they become deeper and more resonant.
  • With a bit more effort, I again pull my psyche away from the vibrations and worry about my phone. Will it ring? Should I turn it off?
  • Again, the bowls draw me back. The vibration is now longer and deeper and totally sucking me in.
  • I think again about the phone, but this time, I feel like I am in the center of vibrations that are emanating from me. It is as though they are creating huge circular waves around me, waves so strong that the vibrations from my cellphone feel teeny in comparison. I know that, even if my phone rang, the iPhone vibrations would never reach me through these waves. The vibration was not strong enough to go against this flow.

I let go and ride the waves.

About an hour later, the healer tells me that I can return to my body. It feels like no time has passed, and I don’t feel like I have been asleep either. I can barely speak and need to think about and plan each word.

She tells me to take my time getting up. Every time I receive any kind of body treatment, the therapist says to take my time getting up, and every time, I feel no need and just jump up. This time, though, I literally cannot move. For example, it takes some minutes before I can give the order from my brain to raise my arm.

I finally, slowly sit on the table and eventually get up. She encourages me to stay for a bit and ground myself. “No, I’m okay,” I tell her. I drink some water and head to my car.

I sit behind the steering wheel for awhile, then decide that is silly and I should head home. I start to drive before I realize that I didn’t feel like going home just yet.

It occurs to me that the Mission Church might be a good stop. I checked my GPS – only ½ mile away! I head there. Though I hear a voice say that I will find parking in front of the church, I ignore that voice and park in a garage.

After parking, I walk in the direction I believe the church will be. But the walk feels long and I decide that I want confirmation. I look at several different people before deciding to stop one particular couple who are walking together but not talking.

They look like what I picture as a typical Boston couple. He stands about my height with a round belly, wearing a red Red Sox t-shirt, blue jeans and a baseball cap. She is only a bit shorter, with straight dyed-blonde hair, a weathered face and a similar round build.

I make eye contact with her and say, “Excuse me, I’m looking for the Mission Church. Is this the right direction?”

She returns my gaze and states, “I’m looking for Fenway Park.”

On a normal day, I try my best to be helpful. Today, under the influence of the bowls, generosity pours out of me. “Oh, I wish I could drive you there. But I just parked my car. It’s a long walk. You might think about taking a cab.”

She snaps at me, “What do I look like? Do I have ‘Information’ written on the front of my shirt?”

Normally, this would throw me off-center and trample all over any good mood. But the bowls remained in full effect, their powerful vibrations still pushing away anything not as strong, not as pure as they are. It was as though I was on some wild psychedelic trip and just observing her. All I could think was, “Wow, she is really angry.”

I told them I was sorry to bother them and continued on my way. If she was still talking, I didn’t notice, though I did notice the grin on his face.

I made it to the church, where I noted the ample on-street parking. I stayed for awhile, then returned to my car and drove home.

By then, I felt normal again. Really nice, but normal. The kids, dog and I headed to Yappier Hour at the Liberty Hotel to meet friends and their dogs. Once there, we ran into another friend who is going through a rough divorce. As she talked with me about her circumstances, I thought I was fully listening. I could hear what she was saying, I could see her point of view, AND I didn’t feel bad about it. I only felt bad that she was so unhappy, but not about the specific details.

She suddenly interrupted herself. “What is with you?”

I wasn’t sure what she meant.

“You are so….” She struggled for the word. “calm. You are so calm.”

I thought for a minute. Do I explain the bowls? I love being in this emotional space.

A couple of days later, someone said something that knocked me flat, letting me know that that I was down from that high. I missed that calm space and the protection of the bowls. I can totally see how someone would get addicted to drugs.

In the meantime, I am all about these circles that emanate from us. If they are strong, they have the power to block bad vibes from your happiness circle. I am convinced that we can do this ourselves. And like a pebble in the water, your actions, large or small, create these beautiful ripples that grow and surround us all, creating a powerful flow of waves that reach further than we can see and vibrate longer than we know. Thank you for every one.

Much love,