This weekend's full moon ritual with a dear friend and her mom reminded me: "through prayer and meditation I create a ripple effect of peace in the world."1 I had already intended to bring this week’s column back to Daily Practice, and now I had a lovely image to pair with it.
You’ve likely read the fable of the tortoise and the hare, attributed to Aesop who lived over 2,500 years ago. I used to day dream about living in any ‘ancient’ times—life was simpler, I believed.
Yet when we read the fables, myths, fairy tales, and scriptures from around the world and throughout times—we can’t help but see fundamental similarities. Technology may not have always been advancing as fast as it is now, but we’ve always struggled to set aside what we think we know intellectually to slow down long enough to honor our own pace, our own truth, our own wisdom, and our own experience of life. Remembering how to slow down is not as simple as the tales. I suspect it never was.
Slow creates space for discomfort and fear of getting (or already being) stuck.
Slow exposes anxieties and worries that have conveniently been hiding in the blurs of our busyness.
Slow lacks the instant dopamine hits of sugary sweet rewards.
In short: Slow is not easy.
Yet Slow creates ease.
Because Slow creates space for us to forget so that we may remember.
And each time, we forget less and we remember more. Remembering and re-membering, reintegrating, our mind, body, and spirit.
Slowness Shifts and Ripples Outward
This week I was reminded, once again, that nothing is certain. In my past, such unexpected turbulence would have sent me in a tail spin (which I adore watching my puppy do). The gift I received instead, was recognizing the power of my daily practices to ground me. And so I resolved to return to the basics, yet again.
We all drift.
I may start sharing practices here again, but since I also lead live community practices, I’m honoring my own pace and trusting that you have your own practices alive within you.
You may call yours prayer, meditation, yoga, a mindful minute—there’s no end to what you can call it or what it can look like. I call mine daily practice, even when I miss days, because it reminds me that I’m actively engaging in practices that create space for me to come back to presence—releasing any need for answers, validation, or certainty—creating space for them to emerge.
It’s never too late to return to the practices that ground you. To the breaths you may take as soon as your consciousness wakes up each day. To the moments you pause to see the beauty hidden in plain sight. To the stretches, the mantras, or high-fives you give yourself as you pass by a mirror. To the cards you pull, coins you toss, rocks you hold. To the grass you feel beneath your feet, or the flowers you kiss as you walk by. To the pets you cuddle, or pollinators you thank. To the grace you say before communing with other life. To the split seconds that expand into eternities.
The only requirements for daily practice are intention and awareness. You’re training your attention to flow where you direct it (not others) and you’re listening with your whole body and whole self.
This Week’s Offerings
Sometimes the week brings exactly what we need. Here's what landed for me:
Sound for Practice—this morning, I dropped my phone into a singing bowl and listened. The attached audio is that recording—complete with interruptions that became their own practice in returning.
Inspirations—recommendations and stories shared by friends.
The Emerald podcast with Joshua Michael Schrei—My pathway in was through the more recent episodes on Power and Signing to the Beloved. Wearing headphones for the full sonic experience ;)
The Old Woman Weaving in a Cave—a Native American fable passed down in several nations
Decks in the photograph: Wild Unknown’s Archetype Deck by Kim Krans, The Universe Has Your Back deck by Gabrielle Bernstein and Micaela Ezra (artwork), and The Spacious Tarot by Carrie Mallon and Annie Ruygt.
