Request for prayers

I received news this morning that one of my best friends may be very sick. She is flying to England this weekend for tests and possible treatment. She has been on my mind all day. As walked the dog, as I did social media work for clients. As I had a business meeting this afternoon. As I rode the bus. And even tonight as I helped host a movie night for the junior youth in my community.

Thinking about the possibility of her being unwell got me thinking about what my world would be like without her in it, and realizing that I truly cannot imagine my universe without her in it. I have known her for over twenty years. She has been, and continues to be one of those friends who is there for me no matter what. She doesn't judge me, or criticize me, but she does remind me to always strive to be the best person that I am capable of being. She reminds me to hold onto my religious values. She shows me, through her own unshakable faith what it means to truly trust wholly in God. She is an example to me of what being a strong, hard-working, endlessly patient and unwaveringly determined mother means. She is a great cook. She can be serious, but knows when it is time to sit back, relax, and laugh out loud. She is courageous and creative, optimistic and open-hearted. She is a beautiful person both inside and out, and I feel blessed to know her as one of my best friends.

It is hard to know that someone I love is going through tough times and that I am not able to be near them, so I have been thinking all day of ways I could contribute something positive to her process. What I came up with is this: I am already saying healing prayers for her. I believe that saying healing prayers sends positive energy out into the universe that will inevitably assist her through the toughest part of this journey she is on. I would like to invite you to join me by saying some healing prayers for my dear friend. If you would like to join me, just leave your name below in the comments section letting me know that you will be joining my healing prayer campaign.

I look forward to praying with you, friends! Let's send out a flood of healing energy!!!

Rainy day

I was woken up this morning by the sound of the wind howling around the apartment building I am currently living in. I peeked through the curtains to see rain pelting the glass, melting snow, slush, and grey skies so solid you couldn't find a dot of blue if you used a magnifying glass. After a quick breakfast, some prayers to prepare for the next day of the Baha'i Fast, and a lovely hot shower I bundled up and headed out to catch the bus downtown. This morning I walked Chloe in the rain -- wearing a miniature raincoat! The two of us set out, spashing through puddles, slipping over thin layers of melting slush and ice, my hair blowing every which way. Her ears flapping. I had to smile at the two of us out there getting drenched in the rain.

Last night my friends did something incredible for me. They hosted a supper at their home, followed by a round of prayers to support me in my job-search efforts. Sitting in their warm living room surrounded by seven people all of whom I consider to be family rather than friends, I felt so humbled and moved by the fact that I have friends who care so deeply about my efforts to re-establish myself here on the island. After a delicious meal of hot curry and rice we sat and said some prayers. It is difficult to communicate how moving it is to sit in a room bathed in warm light and, with my eyes closed, and listen to the voices of my friends praying for my success in this process of finding full time work. Gratitude does not even begin to describe the feeling of having friends who love me so much that they are willing to take time out of their busy lives to come together and lend their spiritual energies to my enterprise.

After our prayers we enjoyed hot apple crisp dribbled with yoghurt and cups of tea while we shared stories and experiences from our lives, laughter, and our thoughts/hopes/desires for the days ahead.

The past few weeks have been incredibly difficult, and at the same time incredibly blessed. I still do not know how things will turn out, but I have this very definite certainty that I am in the right place, and that I need to just keep moving forward towards my goal, and that the pieces will eventually fall into place. This afternoon a friend who owns a tea company called to ask me if I would be willing to fill in for a sick employee at the farmer's market tomorrow! Making tea! I cannot wait! I get to go learn how to operate the machines this afternoon! This evening I will attend a youth group that I help facilitate. And tomorrow night I am babysitting a sweet two-year-old while his parents get to go out on a much-needed date! My social media work is continuing to go well. I am reading lots of books and taking webinars to continue improving my knowledge so that I can better serve my clients, and I am beginning to start contemplating my dream of owning a farm again. Yup. Life is good. Cannot wait for my tea-making lesson!

Wind, ramblings & a 2nd day of fasting

It is late Saturday night. I am sitting on the single bed in the apartment that I just moved into a couple of days ago. It is exceptionally quiet. Walking back into my bedroom tonight I feel a sense of relief to be entering a space that will probably remain the same for at least a couple of months. Since arriving on Prince Edward Island two months ago I have been moving back and forth between the homes of various friends -- trying to not overstay my welcome in any one place, just staying long enough to start remembering whether I should leave the toilet seat up or down, which burner on the stove I should not use, or which direction the cutlery should go into the dishwasher before I would move again and have to adjust my patterns to a new household. Don't get me wrong -- living with my friends has been awesome. Truly. Not only have a been staying in homes that are comfortable and cozy, filled with beautiful artwork, but I have gotten to come home at the end of every day and enjoy the company of people I love. But despite all of this, I have to say that it is nice to have my own space for a change -- even if it is almost completely empty.

The room that is currently home is bigger than any bedroom I have ever had before. One of my best friends loaned me a single bed, a table and a chair. I took a plastic box that I found in the cupboard and put it next to my bed as my bedside table, and another friend loaned me a little lamp. One end of the room is an enormous closet -- so big that I can literally get dressed inside of it (yes, I have tried). I arrived two days ago with one suitcase, a backpack, and a bag of food. It took me an hour to unpack my two pairs of jeans, one skirt, two dresses, four pairs of shoes, two sweaters, and ten shirts. Sitting on my bed looking around the room I feel a mixture of emotions: profound gratitude to the friend who asked her aunt if I could live in her spare bedroom for free for a couple of months while I continue to search for full-time work, and to her aunt who actually agreed; amazement that I am still here despite the reality that I have less money than I have ever had my entire life; disoriented in this large room with four white walls and almost no furniture; uncertainty about how I got here when only two months ago I was sitting in an overly-furnished room in my parents' home in northern California; and an equal amount of terror over my current reality and vulnerability, and deep-rooted certainty and faith that things are going exactly as they should be, and that I just need to put my trust in God and keep trying my hardest.

The last few weeks have been a whirlwind of activity. I have stayed at five different houses; trekked through deep snow; been blown along the sidewalk by freezing wind; eaten meals in restaurants, homes, bars, and coffee houses; seen foxes running across a frozen river at dusk; woken to the sound of frozen rain against the glass of my windows; met with at least fifty different people and given them my resume; reverted to my legs as my primary mode of transportation; started helping with a youth group; contacted complete strangers about pet-sitting, babysitting, cleaning, and any other cash-making venture that I could come up with; watched every single one of my recently-arrived-on-the-island friends get interviews and job offers; started doing social media for Timothy's coffee house and Lobster on the Wharf for free; continued doing social media work for two other companies; created my own social media business website; studied books about social media marketing; been given so many people's house keys that I have to wade through fist-fulls of them to find the ones to my current apartment; gotten locked out of my current apartment because my new set of keys would not open my door and my friend's aunt was asleep in bed; developed a crush on a man who slept through what I had thought was going to be our first date; hosted my first musical devotional gathering; cooked supper for friends in many different houses; enjoyed many, many excellent cups of tea at the farmer's market in the company of awesome friends on Saturday morning after Saturday morning; learned to walk my friends' dogs and pick up (and discard) dog shit (an activity I had assured my friends years ago that I would NEVER engage in); made a snow angel; enjoyed many, many meals/coffee dates with people I love; had my bank balance fall below 30 dollars for the first time in my entire life; learned to love almond butter on toast; taken a bus from downtown out to the farm I used to work before dawn, on and spent the day baking gluten-free muffins with my former employer's mother in the farmhouse kitchen; destroyed almost every pair of shoes I brought here with me in the salty slush on the roads; read the book The Help. Read the book The Memory Keeper's Daughter. Lay in bed listening to the wind howling around the building (as I am tonight); wondered how I got back here and whether the universe is going to allow me to stay, or if every effort I make to find work here will end in another dead-end; wondered where I will go if I have to leave here at the end of April...and these are only SOME of the things that have happened in the past few weeks.

Today was the second day of the Baha'i Fast. I woke before dawn, ate almond butter toast and sat in the silence of the half-light before sunrise praying and reading from the Baha'i writings before deciding to go back to bed for a couple more hours. I am trying to remain present and conscious of the preciousness of these days i am immersed in. Spiritually the fast is, according to the Baha'i writings, generating power that will be reverberating through my life for the entire rest of the year. It is hard to remember that every hour has a special significance, but when I do it helps me to slow down and be aware of how precious every moment of these 19 days of fasting is. I have always thought of the Fast as being from sunrise til sunset, but this Fast I am realising that even the hours when I am eating during this period count as part of the Fast. Even sitting here now typing with the wind howling outside I am trying to be aware of the significance of this night, this hour, and that I will be up again in six hours preparing for another day of Fasting. 

It is almost midnight, and time to get some rest before the third dawn of the Fast. Outside wind pressing around the building. In here the sound of my fingers moving across the keys, my own breathing, the creak of floor boards as someone walks across the floor above.

Just beneath the surface...

Resting place of the Greatest Holy Leaf. Photo courtesy of Pascale Battrick. May not be used without permission. 

"We ought to show something greater than forgiveness in meeting the cruelties...in our lives. To be hurt and forgive is saintly but far beyond this is the power to understand and not be hurt... It is not that we would make the 'best of things', but that...we may find in everything, even calamity, the gems of enduring wisdom. We ought to be incapable of impatience as one would be of revolt. This is not being so much long suffering as a quiet awareness of the forces that operate in the hours of darkness or years of waiting and inactivity. Always we ought to move with the larger rhythm, the wider sweep towards our ultimate goal, in the complete acquiescence, that perfect chord which underlies the spirit of the Faith itself." - The Greatest Holy Leaf (Daughter of Baha'u'llah)

About a year ago I was in Haifa, Israel, immersed in a nine day pilgrimage to the Baha’i World Centre (which you can read about here: Part I, and here: Part II). It was a life-changing pilgrimage, and I often close my eyes and imagine myself wandering through the spectacular gardens in Haifa or Bahji, enjoying the bright crimson roses and geraniums, and the cool shade beneath a canopy of twisted olive branches, or the sunlit silence within the Shrine of Baha’u’llah – the way light streamed in over everything, and the musky, sweet scent of roses. It being late spring here in California, the roses all over the city are in full bloom. I run three days a week, early in the morning before I start my work day, and am fortunate to live in a very lush, beautiful part of the city. Every home I run past has roses of every colour imaginable climbing walls, trellises and fences. One house in particular that I love to run past has a tall wall running all the way around the back garden. The wall has a thick carpet of peachy, cantaloupe coloured roses that literally cascade over its lip, blossoms tumbling over each other, down the rough red brick. I usually just run past this wall, making sure to inhale deeply, but the other day I could not resist stopping to stand on my toes, and, with my eyes shut, press my nose into a thick cluster of roses. The intensity of the sweetness took me right back to the spring of 2010 in Israel. So deep was I in my thoughts, that when I opened my eyes, and turned to go, I nearly knocked the owner of the house, who had just come home from a walk himself, and was watching me enjoy his flowers with great amusement, over.

It is interesting how small, seemingly unrelated things come together to illuminate each other in ways that, if each event, experience, person or object had remained in isolation, would have remained in shadow.

I take part in a few study circles with various groups of friends. One theme that has been coming up regularly is how every little thing we experience, do or say has both a physical reality and a spiritual reality. Sometimes we catch glimpses of that spiritual reality, but often our conscious experience is that of the physical reality. Nevertheless, the spiritual reality is always there, beneath the surface. While I was on pilgrimage last spring I made a number of “connections.” I say “connections” because they were not physical, although there were physical sensations associated with them. They were the spiritual kind of connection. The silent, mysterious, unexplainably powerful kind that are hard to put into physical words.  

One of the “connections” that I made last spring was with Bahiyyih Khanum, also known as the Greatest Holy Leaf. Bahiyyih Khanum was the daughter of Baha’u’llah, the Founder of the Baha’i faith. Bahiyyih Khanum was born around 1846, and died in 1932. At the age of six, her Father was arrested and imprisoned, and the family lost their home and all of their possessions. Bahiyyih Khanum spent the remainder of her days moving from one place of exile to the next with her family. A good portion of her adult life was spent in prison. Bahiyyih Khanum was an incredibly strong woman. At a time in history when few women held leadership roles in the Middle East, she led the international Baha’i community through sensitive and fragile periods of transition, giving unwavering support, unconditional love and gentle but firm advice to everyone who crossed her path. Bahiyyih Khanum never married, instead dedicating her life to service. She is buried on Mount Carmel, in Haifa, Israel. In order to reach her grave you have to enter through a small iron gate, and walk up a long, steep path of white pebbles, lined on either side with tall, deep green Cypress trees that sway in the breeze. A few marble stairs lead up to the circle around her grave, and surrounding the circle are a myriad varieties of flowers. I visited her grave many times while on pilgrimage. I am not sure what kept drawing me back, but it felt like I was visiting the grave of a close friend. I would sit and pray, or write in my journal, or just stand silently on the flank of the mountain in silence. For some reason I felt that on a spiritual level, her presence was like a deep well of cool water from which I could draw inner strength.

I was reading an article recently about the Greatest Holy Leaf in the magazine The American Baha’i. The article, written by Janet A. Khan, is about accompaniment, which is a skill that is highly valued in the Baha’i community. When I think of accompaniment, I think of something I read somewhere many years ago: the best leaders are those who know how to encourage others lead. I am not sure where that came from, but Bahhiyih Khanum in many ways embodies this model of leadership. Janet Khan highlights a number of qualities that Bahiyyih Khanum had that made her such an excellent leader. One was a posture of humility. Her great-nephew said that she possessed “an unaffected simplicity of manners; an extreme sociability which made her accessible to all,” and “a quiet and unassuming disposition that served to enhance a thousand fold the prestige of her exalted rank” (Shoghi Effendi, in Bahiyyih Khanum: The Greatest Holy Leaf). Janet Khan goes on to say that an American pilgrim, Marjorie Morton, who was fortunate to meet Bahiyyih Khanum, said of her that:

“Her strong will was never used to override and her decided opinions were never pressed upon another. Her ways were gentle…In her you met with no exactions, no biddance; she beckoned, smiling, and would have no one come heavy-footed or bent to her will. So quietly did she make her influence felt that you were scarcely conscious of its working” (The Baha’i World, Volume 5). 

Bahiyyih Khanum was forgetful of self, but very mindful of the needs of her community and Faith. She also had an incredible and unshakeable trust in God, which not only helped her to get through the endless challenges and hardships that she experienced during her lifetime, but to help others who were being tested as well. Janet Khan, in her article ‘Accompanying: An advance at the level of culture,’ explains that “her confidence in the power of divine assistance and in the knowledge that God’s will must ultimately prevail endowed her with true patience and the strength to endure.” She goes on to say that in one of her letters, Bahiyyih Khanum writes:

“It has been demonstrated time and time again that whatever comes to pass only enhances the glory of God’s Faith, and further proclaims His Word. This time it will be the same.  However savage this tempest of trials, however battered by surging waves the Ark of the Faith may be, still the Divine Mariner has taken into His own two powerful hands the helm of this Ark – and He, steady, calm and able, and endowed with all authority and might, is steering its course, and will bring it at last safe and secure to its glorious haven. Of this there can be no question.”

The last point that Janet Khan highlights in her article is the great delight that the Greatest Holy Leaf took in the progress and service of those around her. One way that she encouraged those around her at a time when she was not able to freely travel herself was by writing letters. In one of her letters, quoted by Janet Khan in her article in The American Baha’i Bahiyyih Khanum says:

“O you men who stand fast and firm, you women who are steadfast and firm in your faith! Whenever I visit the Holy Shrines, I think of you, and in all lowliness at His Threshold, I entreat the Almighty to send down upon you all His invisible confirmations, and to let His endless bounty enwrap each one of you…” (American Baha’i, January/Februrary 2011, p.39).

I have been thinking a lot lately about how struggle and loss challenge me to grow in new ways, and how often I draw on the spiritual realm for strength and inspiration. This past week, as I was sorting through some papers, I came across hand written letters from two women with whom I shared very deep spiritual connections. One of them, Alana Birchim, was one of my best friends in college. Like Ruhiyyih Khanum, she was always encouraging those around her, and bringing joy into everyone’s lives. She was a free spirit, always going the extra distance to live life to the fullest. She rode her bike to a local farm to get fresh milk that she would use to make butter and cheese; bought freshly ground flour that she would use to bake her own bread and make her own tortillas, and she was always turning up at my door urging me to come dancing with her, or inviting me out to explore the wilderness near our homes, to make art or to come garden with her. What differentiated her from other people was her infectious joy. Rarely did I see her without a smile on her face. Alana did not speak about the spiritual “connection” often, but she sent me a number of letters before she lost her battle to cancer when we were 23, in which she talks about the spiritual a lot. Even from her hospital bed, she was, bringing joy to those around her. She says: “it is traditional white walls, cold floor hospital that has become my home…that’s ok. That’s why I’m here to liven it up a little and help others see it’s not so hard. I am living on the edge. The edge of what? The edge of truth, perhaps. Everything in life passes on. Keep your spirits high. I am praying a lot myself. Prayers keep me warm and light and send so much positive energy and love and healing.” In another letter she says: “It’s a funny thing the way life works, and how it takes critical, challenging situations like the one at hand to help so many people open up, learn or realize, come closer…GROW! I am taking and making huge bounds towards enlightenment in every realm I’ve known to exist (and many I did not know existed before)! I am broken and re-broken a million times, in a million ways, over and over. Yet I rebuild and reconstruct myself each and every time and I am stronger yet with every repair.”

The other letters I came across were from Ruth Hampson. I wrote a long blog entry about her when she passed away this past year, which you can read here. Her letters, filled with stories, always return to a few central themes. Reliance on God is one. She says: “Never forget that the source of all courage is promoting His Word,” and in another, “don’t worry. It is a waste of energy. God is in charge, and everything will work out as it should.”  In a third letter, she says:

“I have to tell you that only after I relinquished to God my will and agreed to live with His Will instead of my own did things start to happen. After that I became not nearly as tense and determined, but became filled with assurance that the right thing would happen, and now I believe things are working out the right way. God surely knows our innermost thoughts and will help us if we allow it.”

And in response to a letter that I wrote to her many years ago, as a young girl, about leaving my home in Cyprus to live in North America, she wrote back:

“I think that loving God includes a continually deepening appreciation – a conscious love – for all created things, including all human beings! Love is not dependent upon other people or places. It is love for the Creator of all that is beautiful and good, and the inevitable aftermath of such emotion is astonishment and appreciation for the Power of God that allows us, even forces us, to love other people independently and without need. The more we feel that, the less we fear, until, finally, there is nothing left to fear. The people you love will never leave you. The Island of Cyprus is lovely and very precious, and it is simply the reflection of the real Cyprus which exists in the spiritual world. Nothing can harm you when you truly love God and His creation, and you come to know that the things you love will never be taken away from you. The stronger is our love for God, the more dearly do we hold His creation, and we know that He, the All-Powerful, will protect it.” 

Today a friend of mine shared a poem with me, that resonated deeply. It is about loss. She lost her mother not too long ago, and it has been both painful and transformative for her to press onwards as a woman in her early thirties who thought her mother would be around for many years to come. She had, and still has a deep spiritual connection with her mother that gives her strength. I will share the poem with you here:

Motherless

I am fooling myself when

I say my mother exists now

only in the photograph

on my bulletin board,

or in the outline of my hands,

or in the armful of memories

I still hold tight.

She lives on

beneath everything I do.

Her presence

influenced who I was,

and her absence

influences who I am.

Our lives are shaped

as much by those who leave us

as they are by those who stay.

(Author unknown)

I feel as though the “connection” with those who we cannot see is very close. As close as my own breath. Whether it is Ruhiyyih Khanum’s strength, or Alana’s joy and commitment to others, or Ruth’s absolute confidence in submitting to the Will that is larger than her individual will, or Laragh drawing on the strength and grace and courage that her mother gave her and continues to share with her, there are things happening on another level that I can sense, even though I cannot see, or even describe them in physical terms. These “connections” are mysterious to me because they do not distinguish between this world and the next. I can draw on relationships with those who are no longer living in this physical reality in the same way that I regularly draw on my spiritual “connection” with a dear friend in Spain who is very much alive, but who I have not physically spoken to in years.

What experience have you had with drawing on that invisible strength that seems to lie open to us whenever we need it, just beneath the surface?

The beauty of diversity. The diversity of beauty.

A diverse and beautiful little garden at the bottom of the Baha'i terraces on Mount Carmel, Haifa, Israel

 This evening we had a devotional gathering at our home. We do this twice a month, and so far it has been a women's devotional gathering. We have a different theme every month, and we choose readings from the Baha'i writings and elsewhere that communicate our theme. We share readings and some prayers, and then we open the circle to discussion of the readings, and also ask if anyone brought anything to share that is inspired by the theme. Sometimes people share art. Sometimes music. Sometimes poetry or a story. Tonight our theme was beauty, and the readings were spectacularly beautiful. I will share two of my favourites here:

"Then will aggression crumble away, and all that maketh for disunity be destroyed, and the structure of oneness be raised--that the Blessed Tree may cast its shade over east and west, and the Tabernacle of the singleness of man be set up on the high summits, and flags that betoken love and fellowship flutter from their staffs around the world until the sea of truth lift high its waves, and earth bring forth the roses and sweet herbs of blessings without end, and become from pole to pole the Abha Paradise." -'Abdu'l-Baha

Here is the second reading that I loved:

"O Thou Compassionate God! Bestow upon me a heart, which like unto a glass, may be illumined with the light of Thy love, and confer upon me thoughts which may change this world into a rose-garden through the spiritual bounty. Thou art the Compassionate, the Merciful! Thou art the Great beneficent God!" -'Abdu'l-Baha

You are going to have to use your excellent powers of imagination to visualize the beautiful borders that surrounded these quotes. The women who prepared the readings for tonight's devotional took great care that the presentation of the readings, as well as the words themselves, was beautiful. Each quote was printed on a separate card, and each one had a unique, decorative border. We also had music throughout the program, and live piano at the end.

Another thing that made our "women's devotional" gathering beautiful tonight was the presence of two men! What started off as a mis-communication, led to a man who lives in our neighbourhood turning up at our thus far women's gathering! We used his presence as an excuse to get my father out of his music studio and into the gathering with us. Initially I could tell that a few of us were not sure how this was going to turn out, and whether we would prefer the atmosphere that having a gathering of women created, but as soon as we started, it became quite clear that this was going to be a wonderful evening, and that the presence of two men was going to make it far more beautiful than if it had just been us ladies!

After reading our quotes, we started talking about the ways in which beauty is manifested in the world. I talked about farming and gardening, and the beauty in diversity found in a garden. Cesar, the fellow who joined us this evening, talked about diversity in humanity, and how beautiful the idea of being able to come together despite all of our differences, and work towards common goals together was to him. Jess, a young woman who just started community college, talked about the beauty she sees in nature, and how it is the beauty that is untamed, unaltered, and often kind of unexpected and imperfect that attracts her. Pat, another friend, shared the idea that virtues like love and compassion and joy are like magnets, attracting people towards them, and how beautiful people are when they are practicing virtues in their lives. My dad mentioned how virtues are like an international language that work in every culture. He gave the example of patience, and said that patience is patience in North America, Japan, India, South Africa...spiritual virtues are like a common currency because they speak to us at the level of the soul, which we all share in common.

At the end of the night my dad was coerced into playing an original composition that he had written on the piano, which, of course, was a truly sublime way to end the devotional portion of the evening! He told us, when he finished playing, that he had been at a Baha'i house of worship in Germany many years ago, and fog had been settling all around the building he was in, and how beautiful it was to watch how it covered and then uncovered the landscape, trees and people outside. Just as he was having that thought, he noticed that there was a piano sitting in front of him, and so he sat down at it and composed the song that he played for us tonight. The story made us all smile, because it left very little doubt about the fact that this song was intended to be written. Cesar was especially moved, and mentioned how well the melody captured the magical sensation of fog moving in over the landscape. I have heard my father play this song many times, but I had never heard the accompanying story about how it was composed.

Our lively discussion continued after the closing music, into the social time. We enjoyed cake, cookies and quiche from the Freeport Bakery, and some lovely Darjeeling and apricot black teas that my mom bought today at Tea Cozy. It was a superb evening.

I am sitting here now thinking how invigorating it is to come together and share spiritually inspiring readings, reflections and discussion. How refreshing it is to engage with a group of people at such a deep level, and how centering a gathering around such depth of connection creates such an inspiring spirit of community and joy. I have been having a really tough week, and feeling very isolated and disconnected from community, but our devotional tonight gave me the gift of community and friendship. I am feeling grateful for this beautiful evening, and looking forward to our next devotional gathering, which will be on the theme of hope. I suggested hope because, having been in Canada for the past six years, I always found February to be the toughest month, because it felt like winter was never going to end. Here the idea of mid-winter depression makes me smile, because the weather is so mild, but the Californians in the group nodded knowingly at the idea that we were in the heart of winter, and how far off spring seemed, so even though it feels like winter has not started to me, the theme seemed to resonate for them also. I guess our experience is all relative to what we are used to.

Another thing I am thinking about is how happy I am that we had the men join us this evening. It added so much unexpected beauty to the evening. I loved how flexible and open the women were to having our group change shape for the night, and I am kinda hoping the gentlemen join us again next time!

What do you associate beauty with? What in your life is an expression of beauty? How do you nurture beauty in your surroundings and relationships?