It has been quite a few wholehearted weeks. One of walking in a fog, doubts, scarcity but also of grace, softening and a deepening love for life and living. An awakening to the gift of community and shared stories.


Today, I'm sharing a blessing prayed on me by Abigail @abiyogini, a kindred spirit and a dearest friend. May this blessing soothe your soul.


Namaste sweet friend,
I see the light inside of you,

May you wake into the noble silence of the morning,

Enveloping you in its soft velvety air of healing grace,

Giving you hope for the day ahead and a reminder of the goodness and truth of who you are.

May you come home to the truth of your belonging.

May your prayer be; Thank You.

Love always,
Life.

Before we arrived into the seemingly chaos of our lives

Thee had formed us in love,

Hugging us in the peaceful darkness of the womb,

Bringing us into light

When we arrived with calmness in our eyes.

Thee nourished us, supported and held us up till now…

Thee

continues to hold us in the ticks, seconds, and minutes

In-between

In the unseen spaces

Welcoming our unspoken words -
pouring it some warm water with honey.

Speaking flowers to our minds
A lullaby of quiet peace, calm and confidence

May we be filled with a knowing of


Gratitude for journeys made
Generosity of faith, goodwill and joy

A renewed motivation

To get busy with life.

Again.

To live.

In the space held by Thee.

This post is part of the celebratory blog launch for Grace Notes, a Bella Grace blog. To read more about life's ordinary magic, enjoy blogposts from other kindred spirits

To read more about life's beautiful journey online, click

Sunlight. Wafey, pale yellow, dainty, elegant, sturdy, slender stems of hydrangeas peering through light at me. Quietly waiting for the warm hugs of spring.

Wisps, muffles, muted, joyous spoken music of friends, families, lovers, mothers, those gathered; wafting through the air.

A table of gentle, beautifully aged women by me. Sharing stories, silvery hair beautifully curled in place, wrinkles carefully drawn on their faces - stories of depth, unspoken but felt. A deliberate gentleness.

Notes of guitar, drums, and singing voices. Soft, low tones and happy melodies. Soothing, silky tunes dancing in my ear.

A sip of the tingly, warm, orange ginger mint tea; carressed by the earthy green mug that hugs it in place.

The soft, burning glow of the oak that holds me and my pages, a subtle hue of golden warmth, falling...On my pages.

This. Moment. This. Now.

It is my handful of smoke - soft, present, light. Gentle curls of - happiness, grace, gratitude.

Seen. Felt. Believed. Offered.

A soft, quiet, morning. A cool, blue, translucent sky. The house sleeps. My eyes wander the room, my mind in different stories and thoughts. To do lists, plans and goals. Some as light as a fluttering silk sheet in the window, others dense and convoluted. Then there are those that rise and dance in a soft, silvery, vapor as if escaping from the incense of me.

This is the morning. This is another sun. This is another dance. Through the questions and locked doors. Through answers and open windows and vast spaces.

The morning, with its promise ; of faith, of being, of constance, of persistence. With its promise of being present, of tenderness....

Tenderness, this stays with me. This holds my hand, gently weaving a cloud for my feet and paints a song for my soul. It says; Rise, be slow, be soft, be human. Dance. Hold the morning.

The Guest House
By: RUMI

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
As an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they're a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice,
meet them at the door laughing,
and invite them in.

Be grateful for whoever comes,
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

This poem, shared by a sweet soul, reminded me of the verse :

"Whatever happens, give thanks, because it is God's will in Christ Jesus that you do this."

And of Rilke's

Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer.

I am reminded everyday, of the faithfulness, mercies and grace of Life. So many stories and moments telling me not to fuss. That in the end, it will all be ok.
To be still and know
To surrender
To be open ended
To trust....

"The One being able to do exceedingly above all things that we ask or think, according to the power working in us"

May our souls be hugged and held in peace
May we live our courage.

My newfound love. This word gives me permission to be both. To be more. The freedom to accept. To not choose. The evolving transition of being complete. It allows the complexity of life, simplifying dilemmas. The sweetness of being open ended...
"And"
The sweetest conjunction

I love the in between-ess of this month. Anticipating Fall, the Holidays and a slowing down of life. A time for seeds to hug the soil. Cooler mornings and nights, more time spent by the fire, outside. Apples, grapes, leaves turning, summer flowers still blooming...in richer, warmer tones. Faithful birds, staying for a while longer before flying to warmer lands. Rain, gentle winds, golden yellows and burning oranges of sunsets.

September gives me another chance.

To embrace the gentle unhurriedness of change. A deliberate celebration of the middle.

To fall into Fall.

To see depth and warmth in the in between.

Being cocooned in a warm, gentle glow of light that illuminates a path...

The gentle, rhythmic breathing of a new born snuggled on a mother's chest

The silence of walking in snow that has not been trodden on

Clouds before sunrise lighting up in a glow of pale yellow that beckons us to raise our arms up towards the light receiving all that the day ahead has in store ...

Blankets and candlelight and the warm embrace of a loved one...

Little feet and big hands piled into mounds of blankets on Sunday mornings...a child half awake, their father with wrinkles on his face, disheveled hair, evidence of broken but joyous dreams the night before.. Their mother with the sweet clutter of pans, searching for sweet maple syrup and almond milk for Sunday pancakes...

Tea with honey and lemon at the crack of light before the house wakes

Early morning walks when it feels like the universe just dropped a batch of new air to be taken in...by you

Mindfully filling lungs with a long inhale and gently exhaling....

The breath of meditation

Walking along the river with mist and dew...

Surrender, Faith, Positive expectation. Goodness, Hope and unconditional Love. Compassion and Empathy. Mercy and Kindness. An open, broken and receiving heart. Fullness, emptiness and gratitude.

The softness of life, God and Spirit.

Scattered moments...

Of Grace.