Posts Tagged ‘Meditation’
Returning to Meditation. Again.
Wednesday, January 25th, 2023
In 2012 I downloaded an app called Insight Timer. I set up a daily timer for about ten minutes to an hour to meditate daily. After using it for a couple of years, I set up my own quiet daily practice of meditation. I forgot about the app and eventually deleted it as I wanted less time being on my phone.
For over 20 years I have facilitated and led meditation retreats and have taught people various meditation practices (hoping to do more of those again soon!).
My daily routine even included getting to my office early so I had time to sit and meditate. I also prefer quiet mornings and easing into my day. I was even able to meditate on the subway!
Then COVID-19 happened. My meditation practice came to a screeching halt. Almost all of my daily or weekly practices stopped. I couldn’t meditate, read, or journal. I gave myself permission to be in this place. Although I didn’t think it would take 2+ years to come out of it.
I discovered that my daily walks became a meditation practice. And the more I walked, the more I noticed everything. I noticed more colors, more trees, more birds, more nature, and more beauty. But something was still missing. I wanted to get back to my meditation—even if it meant starting over with two to five minutes of daily meditation. I downloaded the Insight Timer app again. Sitting quietly, I began to listen to guided meditations. It was as if I never left. My body was able to relax first for brief moments and then eventually for longer periods of time.
Sometimes we need to give ourselves permission to let something go and have it return as something new. When meditation (or any practice) feels like a chore, pausing and waiting for it return in a new way can help. If you’re like me and have wanted to return to a mediation practice, feel free to start over, again.
And if you need support starting a meditation practice or growing your current one, please reach out to me.
Suggestions: for those looking for apps that support meditation, try Insight Timer, Ten Percent Happier, or Calm.
Toning the OM Receives 2021 Best of Bronx Award!
Friday, September 17th, 2021
Toning the OM has been selected as the Winner for the 2021 Best of Bronx Awards in the category of Local Business!
Each year, in and around the Bronx area, the Bronx Award Program chooses only the best local businesses. They focus on companies that have demonstrated their ability to use various marketing methods to grow their business in spite of difficult economic times. The companies chosen exemplify the best of small business; often leading through customer service and community involvement.
For most companies, this recognition is a result of their dedication and efforts as well as the work put into building the business. Toning the OM is now a part of an exclusive group of small businesses that have achieved this selection.
The Bronx Award Program was created to honor and generate public recognition of the achievements and positive contributions of businesses and organizations in and around Bronx. Their mission is to raise the profile of exemplary companies and entrepreneurs among the press, the business community, and the general public.
Thank to everyone who has supported Toning the OM through the years–whether you have attended a workshop, sacred circle, retreat, coaching or meditation session. And am also grateful to everyone that has shown support and love by sharing and promoting Toning the OM and sent encouraging words.
Most of all, am grateful to my parents who taught me the value and meaning of service. All that I do and all that I share is in their memory–as I know they are always watching over me.
Hopeful
Thursday, March 25th, 2021
I have been thinking about hope the past few weeks. Perhaps it is the new season of Spring and watching the flowers burst through the earth. Perhaps it is because I have been watching the birds return to the cherry trees out side my window. Perhaps it is the light that lasts longer each night. Perhaps it is knowing that family and friends are getting vaccinated and I too will soon get the vaccine. Perhaps it is because I feel like making plans of things to do or places to go for the first time in 12 months.
Or perhaps I have been meditating on hope because it is the season of renewal, miracles, and the Easter season of resurrection and new life. Perhaps it is just my faith reminding me that hope returns (or perhaps never left) that I am given constant reminders of hope in nature. All I know is that any time I have been asked how I am dong the past few weeks, the only word that comes out of my mouth is “hopeful.” I am hopeful of new beginnings and of miracles. I am hopeful that I can live more fully out (especially after a year of having to live fully in). I am hopeful that I can soon see people and hug my family. I am hopeful that so much goodness is waiting for me — us — you.
Even with so much still unknown and a year that will bring a lot of change, I still feel hopeful. And of course that doesn’t mean I don’t get scared or cranky or worried. I am hopeful that my voice will return and my writings will be expressed. I am hopeful that I can be quiet and still. I am hopeful that my inner compass will show me the way and love will lead me home.
And I am choosing to be hopeful. It’s a daily practice — and some days I am better at it than others.
My faith reminds me this time of year that from the darkness comes the light. Without the dark earth, flowers would not bloom. And so I too am rising from the dark earth with new life, new blooms, and new eyes. What are you unearthing? What is blooming inside of you? What has been waiting to bloom inside of you?
Just For This Moment
Tuesday, April 7th, 2020
Just for this moment is a phrase that showed up in my meditation. It is a phrase that is keeping me grounded. I have said many times to myself as a reminder to stay present to now.
Meditation:
Just for this moment feel without seeking another experience.
Feel the sensations in your whole body.
Let them move, intensify or dissipate.
Allow your feelings to stay or leave.
Bow to your feelings.
Just for this moment be silent or let your voice be heard.
Be gentle with yourself.
Know that your heart is vast and can hold your feelings.
Be a sanctuary for yourself.
Just for this moment.
Flickering Light
Thursday, December 6th, 2018
Our light goes in and out. 
We find ourselves again and again.
And we lose ourselves again and again.
Sometimes we need the darkness to find our light.
Our light dims and love helps us find it.
Our light shines bright lightly and love shows us how to share it.
Our light glows and other people notice it.
We sometimes see the light in others before we see our own light.
We shine and celebrate the light in others.
Oh, and their light flickers too.
As our days grow shorter, may we find our inner sun that is always shining light.
May we remember that light emerges from the darkness.
And that the most holy darkness is the deepest darkness.
Let our flickering light and holy darkness be our teachers.
And God Whispered…
Wednesday, November 14th, 2018
I’m right here.
As I headed into the woods to look for fall warblers and hawks, I found myself smiling at the abundance of yellow trees. I looked up to see the sunlight streaming down onto the tops of the trees. Then tears came streaming down my face. I was overcome with joy of being in nature, of being surrounded by light, of walking with my spouse. Of feeling the crunching of leaves and feeling peaceful. It had been a long time since peace filled me – as most of the year has been spent being with my ill father until his passing in September.
Nature is a great reminder that everything changes. Leaves fall and mulch. Seeds succumb to the darkness. And transformation comes in every season.
Many emotions filled me with every breath – sadness, gratitude, peace, and grief. I felt all of it. I looked up as the sunlight bounced off the yellow leaves and listened to the silence that filled the trail. Suddenly I heard squirrels hurrying through bushes, birds flying from tree to tree, and crisp air blowing the leaves. Smiling at the beauty all around me, I heard the words, “And God whispered, I’m right here.”
Through the mystery of grief and love, my heart felt peaceful. Lost in emotions of sadness, I knew joy. Grasping for connection, I knew groundedness. Longing for the return of hope, I found myself whispering, “I’m right here.”
Tears + Geckos – A Wild Cosmic Heart Journey
Wednesday, April 11th, 2018
Seven years ago, I began planning a week-long retreat that would take place on the Big Island of Hawaii. I wanted to spend a week exploring our wild cosmic heart. I had no idea that a week before the retreat a hurricane would sweep the East Coast. I had no idea that three weeks before the retreat I would have medical appointments and not feel well. I had no idea that my heart would feel so heavy and raw.
In November of 2012 as I prepared to leave for my flight, I thought of canceling – of staying home to help family and friends affected by the storm. I thought about how I would reschedule my medical appointments that were canceled due to the power outages from the hurricane. I thought about volunteering somewhere to help hurricane victims who lost everything.
When I asked friends if I should still lead the retreat, they all gave the same answer – YES. I listened and took an 11-hour flight to Hawaii. I arrived exhausted and anxious. When I arrived at my room, two large geckos were awaiting me. I barley slept my first night and, in the morning, I met with the Group Manager. She greeted me with a big hug and my eyes filled with tears.
As the week continued I knew I was in the right place (not only because it was Hawaii). I met so many people willing to explore their hearts. I met people who were open to being seen and heard. I met people who were willing to be vulnerable. As I sat and listened to the retreat participants, I became more in awe of the many people who live their life celebrating and tending to their wild cosmic heart.
I met Louise whose husband was dying of brain cancer. I met Yolanda who celebrated her 75th birthday with friends and a group of strangers. I watched Tina snorkel with joy as she swam in the warm ponds. I smiled as Angela took her first hula class. I listened to Francine remember that she can drum and sing. I took a picture of Susan sitting in her shamanic earth mandala, which she made in the roots of a huge tree. I laughed with Lisa in the water, like a teenager with the giggles.
Most of all, I remember that my heart felt open and grateful. I realized that when I open 
and invite others into my heart, the world expands. Many in the our sacred circle were longing for connection, community, and belonging. The Wild Cosmic Heart Retreats offers just that — deep connections through guided meditations, mindfulness walks around trees, shamanic journeying to the garden of the heart, and sacred play. In the midst of worry and responsibility, participants from around the world were willing to drop the armor around their heart.
I even befriended the Geckos, known to me as Heckle and Jeckle. The retreat was so powerful that I have taught it again and again. And this November, I will be facilitating the Wild Cosmic Heart Retreat at Kalani on the Big Island of Hawaii, November 4-10, 2018. Join us for a week of daily meditations, mindfulness walks in the luscious tropics, shamanic journeying, and homemade ice cream! What is your wild cosmic heart asking of you?
Watching Over Everything
Wednesday, June 28th, 2017
The birds – they see everything. They fly overhead seeing everything. The birds have a different view.
View. The view of the heart. Does that not watch over everything too? How do we watch over? With love? With judgment? With peace? With an open heart?
Is there a being of love watching over everything? Perhaps this is my faith calling me back. Maybe I am ready, listening, and remembering to return.
Returning to light and darkness. Day and night. Doesn’t that watch over us too?
The night sky – looking up – watching over everything through the stars. The lights blinking, glowing, soaring through the sky. What do the stars see through their lens of light?
The light passes. The darkness opens me up to more light. Here I am shining. Here we are shining.
I have learned how much is watching over me. In the end, it is love, always love, watching over me. Here I AM: SKY, SPIRIT, STARS, LOVE watching….
Watching over everything.
This essay was inspired from the Prompt a Day Program with Cynthia Morris.
And We Greet Again
Thursday, March 23rd, 2017
And this is the place where I stand.
And this is the world where I stand.
And this is the universe where I stand.
And I breathe. 
And I breathe.
And I belong.
And I love.
And I long.
And I grieve.
And I desire.
And I remember.
And I greet again.
And again.
And this is the place where we stand.
And this is the world where we stand.
And this is the universe where we stand.
And we greet each other.
And we greet God in each other.
And we greet again.
And again.
Finding Our Inner River
Tuesday, March 7th, 2017
As a writer, I am often looking for the “right” word. Sometimes, I am looking for any word. It is the blank page that can either become my most meditative or dreaded moment. I am known to type notes on my iPhone, scrawl words on the back of envelopes, or fill journals (dozens of them) with meditations and ideas. I don’t remember a time when I wasn’t writing. I may not always be poetic or even grammatically correct, but the joy of writing has always superseded being a perfect writer.
When I feel stuck with writing, I read more, meditate more, and spend time in nature. I try to let go of frustration of not writing and open to what is available as my writing teacher. As my cousin in England recently wrote to me after I expressed my experience of feeling stalled in my writing:
Sometimes the river is full.
Sometimes the river runs low.
But the river is still there.
Everything has its season.
Seasons turn.
She concluded with, “Don’t give up. Keep going with your writing.”
We don’t always know who we touch with our words. So, I am going to keep writing, keep scrawling, and keep dreaming.
What keeps you going? Where do you turn when the river seems low?