by Connie Habash | May 4, 2026 | Beauty, Divine, Nature
Few events in nature inspire us more than a rainbow. On a cloudy, rainy day, it fills me with exuberant joy when the arch of light and color magically appears across the sky.
We may complain about wet days, the dark clouds, the need for umbrellas, windshield wipers, and galoshes. But the truth is that there are no rainbows without rain.
This is true in our lives as well.
As I’m writing today, it’s a rainy Thursday here in Northern California. As I turned from my street out onto Middlefield Rd., I was met with a double rainbow arching over the trees across from me.
The Beauty That Emerges from Rain
Another miracle of nature. The extraordinary properties of light, revealed in rapturous beauty as a glowing arc of the entire color spectrum available to the naked eye.
Rainbows only come with rain. They’re only possible when we have clouds that drop precipitation on us. The sun is partially obscured; yet the light that does shine through bends into this extraordinary glow.
Seeing Ourselves in a New Light
Often, extraordinary parts of ourselves go unseen by our eyes. Through the perception of our ordinary consciousness, we don’t recognize our beauty and divine qualities within.
It may take something that partially blocks out our traditional way of seeing ourselves – a sacred filter, so to speak – in order for us to perceive our gifts, talents, and precious qualities.
The rainbow happens because the water droplets filter the light in a new way. Maybe not the best scientific explanation, but we need new filters in order to see what we’re missing. Photographers are keenly aware of the power of a filter to reveal new perspectives. We need our Divine Filters, that see us through the eyes that Spirit sees us – as our highest and best selves.
May we be blessed with the Divine Filters that can see our own spectrum of sacred light within. May we be blessed with abundant rain, radiance, and rainbows!
May you begin to see your inner light more clearly, even through life’s rainy moments. Join Awakening Women of the Earth (AWE) to deepen your connection with yourself, others, and Spirit. Want one-on-one support? Check out Spiritual Mentoring!
by Connie Habash | Jun 4, 2020 | Aliveness, Awareness, Beauty, Challenges, Change, Meditation, Nature, Presence, Transformation
As I’m writing this, we are coming to the end of the first phase of our shelter-in-place for corona virus, and restrictions are beginning to lift. Everyone is looking forward to going back to “normal” – but that’s not what I’m thinking at all.
In fact, there’s a lot about “normal” that I am not interested in going back to, both in my own personal life and in our planetary experience. Instead, let’s stop fully in the present moment to assess what’s true, and step forward into the extraordinary!
For weeks, we’ve been under a state of worry, fear, and certainly restriction with the corona virus pandemic. Here in California, where I live, everyone has sheltered in place, and the news is full of the latest statistics, struggles, and losses. I turned off the news weeks ago – I can read what I need to know, but I want to fill my consciousness with someone other than corona virus.
This shelter in place time, however, has been a blessing – and a challenge – for me. That’s because, right at the time we had to shelter in place, I also became ill. Not with corona virus, fortunately, but with hyperthyroidism. As a result, I got the double-whammy. I felt amped up all the time. My heart pounded, was erratic, and I was very weak – at one point, I couldn’t take more than one step on the stairs before I had to pause and wait for my heart to settle back down. My body felt hot, and I struggled night after night with insomnia. At times, my heart pounded so hard that it was painful and terrifying. No wonder it’s known also to cause anxiety, both physiologically as well as from the worry about the physical symptoms!
So I was forced to sit. I couldn’t exercise, not even a gentle yoga pose, for a few weeks. I sat on the couch and in the garden, and I rested a lot.
But mostly, I reflected, introspected, and processed what was happening to me and why. I knew there was a gift here in this scary illness that halted my life, and a gift in the shelter in place.
Woe is Me
It would have been easy to get stuck in “woe is me,” the victim consciousness of “why is this happening to me?” and feeling sorry for myself. Feeling like a victim of circumstance, and powerless.
Woe means distress and suffering. There was plenty of that to go around. But I didn’t need to see my life that way.
Many of us have been lured into this state, feeling scared about the corona virus, helpless and out of control. Yes, there’s a lot out of our control. But our mental state – the thoughts we chose to believe – is something we have volition over. We have the ability to choose what we focus on and create our experience of what is happening intentionally.
I knew I didn’t want to be caught up in the collective “woe is me” mentality that the media was encouraging with every frightening story about statistics and suffering. I certainly had a lot of compassion for those who were suffering physically, financially, and who lost loved ones to the virus. I, too, had lost income and my well-being for a period of time. But I knew we weren’t stuck in a terrible state, unless I allowed myself to focus on those thoughts.
I knew there was something other than “woe is me” that I could experience about my condition and the world.
Whoa!
The Universe actually gave me a gift – not just for me, but for many of us. It offered a situation where we all had to come full-stop. When you’re horseback riding and you want your horse to stop, you say “Whoa.” So I shifted from “woe is me” to “whoa.”
My life had come to almost a standstill, and there was an opportunity here. I always look at what comes my way as some sort of gift, or at least an opportunity. With being forced by my illness to stop seeing clients and everything else that I was doing, it was time to take a good look at my life and what I was creating.
“Whoa” stops us in our tracks and gives us the opportunity to become Present. Until we are fully present – with our attention and awareness right here in this moment – we can’t really know ourselves. I had to stop and ask myself some important questions:
- What may have caused my condition?
- What do I really value?
- Who do I want to BE?
- What changes do I need to make in my life?
I don’t have the answers to all of these yet, and I know it will be a work in progress ongoing. But I came to some clear realizations as I sat, and sat, and sat.
- I discovered that hyperthyroidism is often associated with precipitating stress. I knew that I was overloading my schedule – doing too much, too fast, with too much pressure on myself. This was not the “normal” I wanted to go back to. I needed to slow down, be more present (my life lesson!), and do less.
- My meditation and yoga practice needed to return to the top of the list. It has felt so good to prioritize my meditations in the morning. I feel my mind and soul quieting down and opening up a spaciousness in me. Yoga is returning slowly, as my strength and stamina build in my physical recovery from hyperthyroidism. I’ve noticed that when I make time for yoga, whether during the day or before bed, I sleep better, in addition to feeling more alive and at ease in my body.
- Two of my most important values, which are related, are supporting a vibrant ecosystem and eating healthy: therefore, I needed to commit to cooking at home with local, organic, ethical and sustainable food. As a result, I have been learning to prepare meals and step out of my comfort zone with cooking. We are eating food that’s not only tasty, but I feel good about on all levels. My daughter and I have started an organic vegetable and fruit garden. We feel good about growing and nurturing this life right in our yard, and spending more time outdoors not just with the plants but the animals as well. We have created a bird bath that is frequented by many different species, and are currently fostering two swallowtail butterfly caterpillars into their transformation. We’re reconnecting with nature right here at home, and our whole family is rejoicing about it.
- I knew that, although I don’t buy as much “stuff” as the average American, I still had too much. I needed to spend less and only purchase what I need. In fact, as I looked back at March and April of my illness and shelter in place, 90% of what I spent money on was food and healthcare. That was true to how I wanted to live – sure, from time to time I’ll need to replace “things”, but overall, that’s all I really need.
- I let my creativity and joy drop off my short list, too. So it was time to break out the art materials and draw mandalas, create pastels, dance, and sing! To spend time listening to the birds, and playing games with my family. Prioritizing joy and creative pursuits were vital to my happiness and thriving.
- And now, with the recent killing of George Floyd and the consequential protests to bring light (again) to racism and unconscionable killing of black people has me reflecting more deeply on my white privilege, understanding racism, and what I need to change in my consciousness.
It’s a plenty big Whoa. What a gift it has been to stop, be Present, and see with this clarity. And then to take action by educating myself, learning new skills, spending time with my family, and growing past my edge of comfort. Not perfectly, and it’s not “done” (will always be a work in progress), but I have created a shift that feels sustainable and in alignment with my True Self.
Whoa is Me!
As I step forward from my pause in Presence, I feel a sense of inspiration. I shift from full stop with Whoa! to that form of Whoa that is amazement, delight, and awe.
I feel Whoa! not just about my inner journey and personal realizations, but also my physical body. I have been watching Dr. Zach Bush recently in some interviews, who predicted the corona virus outbreak and is passionate about the microbiome of our bodies and the planet. In our body, we have trillions of cells; but we also have quadrillions of microorganisms that support our flourishing on the planet. Without those bacteria, fungi, and yes, viruses, within us, we wouldn’t be able to survive. A strong, balanced microbiome, in both the soil and in our gut and other systems of the body, keeps us and the ecosystem in healthy, thriving balance.
For me, that was a Whoa! moment. I felt so grateful for all of this life within me, working harmoniously together (when it’s in proper balance, of course) for my well-being. I knew I was healing on many levels. The consciousness of all these microscopic beings was serving the higher good of the community of what I call my body. I embraced my body with tremendous love and appreciation, for all these organisms and processes that I didn’t quite understand, but I knew created the miracle of what we call life..
We are truly a community – we can’t separate ourselves from the air we breathe, the water we imbibe, the food that emerged from nutrient-rich soil (we hope – with organic, local, and regenerative farming), the sun that gives our planet light and energy, and the entire web of life. We can’t ultimately separate ourselves from each other as human beings, for we all come from the same stuff of the Universe. That is truly Whoa!
And within me – and you, and all of us – we have the ability to create anew, with each breath and each moment. We are conscious, Divine beings, and can decide who we want to be and what we want to contribute to life. We can intentionally choose what we want to do with our time, energy, and gifts, and how to apply them to the greater good. With the power to change our thoughts, attention, intention, and actions, we can transform our experience of life, and together, even transform our world.
We don’t need a lot. We may believe we don’t live in a big enough space to support what we truly want, or that we don’t have enough money, time, or energy. But we don’t need a lot of real estate, money, energy, or even clout.
Think of the last time you walked down a street and saw a weed growing in a crack in the pavement. We’ve all seen that, and maybe you’ve wondered, how did that dandelion grow there? It doesn’t even look like a millimeter of space in that crack. Yet it grows.
It finds a way to flourish, even in those conditions. It may seem like there can’t be enough soil, there’s not enough space, and there certainly isn’t enough water in there. But the dandelion isn’t thinking those thoughts. It finds the crack, and it knows what is possible. It grows because it knows. It only needs just enough room for the seed to slip in, and it believes it can thrive. So it does.
We all can, too. Even if there’s just a little crack in your life, that’s more than enough space for your thought of creation to slip in and germinate, if you know who you really are. If you open up to the awe of your Divine self, the infinite possibilities that lie within you and before you. If you know, believe, and put your focus on what you want to grow. Whoa Is Me! That’s who you are: an amazing, awe-inspiring consciousness that came here to Be who you Are. And you can make a difference in the world.
Don’t Go Back to Normal
If you find yourself, from time to time, stuck in “Woe is Me”, don’t judge yourself. Instead, embrace yourself with compassion. Then, stop – Whoa! – and be present. Ask yourself the important questions, and give yourself time to gain clarity and your new vision. You can write a new story in your life and for the planet. Recognize that you have unimagined possibilities within you, waiting for you to just give them a crack of space and attention to flourish. Then, exclaim to yourself, Whoa is Me! Be inspired by the gift of this life and your ability to create your vision.
Don’t go back to “normal”. Together, we can change the story and go forward into an extraordinary life and an extraordinary world.
by Connie Habash | Mar 15, 2018 | Animals, Beauty, Hiking, journey, Joy, Life, Nature, Openness, Seasons, Trust
A couple weeks ago, I had planned to hike on a Thursday morning with a friend I hadn’t seen in months. We were looking forward to being together and venturing into one of my favorite forests at nearby Huddart Park. The forecast was for rain – not just a little drizzle. Did we want to venture beyond our comfort zone, even if it was pouring?
I was game, and so was she – what an adventure! Going outdoors brings me great joy, but there’s always an element of being uncomfortable. Will I get muddy? Will my new rain pants truly hold up? What if I slip and fall? How about the cold? Being in nature mirrors to us the fact that life is unpredictable and uncomfortable sometimes.
We met up and drove together through the windy road to the park entrance, then on to the grassy field near the trailhead. On with the jackets, hiking books, and mittens (yep, it was chilly!), and off we went into the redwood forest.
It’s hard to describe the sensations of joy I feel in the forest. It’s a physical sensation of heightened senses, elation, and ease all at once. The rain only served to intensify it, especially the feeling of ease. The soft patter of drops falling from branches and contacting redwood sorrel and other greenery below the canopy contrasted with the deep silence behind it. Peace spread through the woods, enveloping me in a gentle embrace that quieted my mind.
Oh, the smells! The rich, wet earth, blended with moist wood and decomposing bay laurel leaves intoxicates me. I instinctively inhale deeply, as if trying to taste the rich scent by drawing in more of the wonderful scents of the forest. It feels so fresh and clean, and deeply alive. I, too, feel deeply alive as we journey further down the trail.
Our hope was to spy a bunch of banana slugs – one of my favorite creatures to spy here in our local ecosystem – but much to our surprise, they were nowhere to be found, even in this very wet weather. But guess what was out in droves in their place: newts! We counted 5 California newts at various times on our adventure. They waddled across the leafy compost the way a toddler ambles across the living room floor, but on 4 legs instead of two. It was fun to catch a well-concealed newt in the act amongst the camouflage, like picking out Waldo from an eye-boggling scene.
And the earthworms! 10, 20, more… I lost count over our 2 hour jaunt. We took care to avoid stepping on them, sometimes 4-5 littered across the trail like long strings of confetti. I imagined they came out for a party from their underground cover, enjoying the newfound freedom in the rain’s shower.
At the bottom of the hill I was greeted by the creek, which was delightfully full, rushing over river stones large and small, tan oak branches, past fallen Douglas firs, and downward to join many spontaneous rivulets racing to merge in union. After crossing the stream, we chose a trail I had not ventured onto before to follow up the other slope.
It was rare that I saw birds in this forest – usually I only heard whispers of them high above us, atop the redwoods. But today we were treated with a dark-eyed junco couple directly ahead of us on the path. We stopped to watch in silence; and to await how close they would approach us. One hopped towards us, then paused to peck at the group; the second would then take a few cautious hops in our direction. Chit-chit, chit-chit they called to each other, contrasting with the soft sound of the rain. They came within 9 feet or so, then worked their way back in the other direction, eventually off into the brush.
Two hours passes in timelessness. We had put our cells on airplane mode, happily walking without distraction, without checking watches or thinking about “the world”. This was the world. This was alive, abundant, vibrant. Full of surprises and delights. Pausing for occasional downpours so that we could watch, hear, feel, and smell the gift of the rain. We didn’t need more than what nature offered us with every step, around every corner.
Kindly, my friend had packed some lunch for us, and we found a decent picnic table to sit down and eat, enjoying conversation and the drops that landed on our hoods and in our salads. Fresh food never tasted so good out on the land. I appreciated every fruit and vegetable, marveling at what nature provides.
My clothes? The rain pants were fantastic; my legs were cool but not wet. Water dripped off my rainjacket harmlessly onto the ground. My hiking boots held up fine. Just my fingerless mittens were soaked, easily rectified in the dryer back at home.
As we drove away and back into “civilization”, I was filled with gratitude. Nature fills me in ways that nothing else can. I feel Spirit alive in every rock, tree, and raindrop. I recognize that my needs are truly simple. What more do we truly need than this precious beauty, this flowing water, this bushy-tailed squirrel that eyes me as she eats seeds from a cone? The more present we are in nature, the more the mind becomes serene and we experience the Oneness with life that truly fulfills us.
Returning home, the aliveness of the forest was alive in me. I stood in the driveway and turned my face up to the clouds, feeling the drops on my cheeks and forehead. I am a leaf catching the rain, and nothing feels more grand. I was OK being a little wet, a little cold, and stepping into the unknown. Going past my comfort zone opened me to new joys that I hadn’t experienced before.
Feeling the call to immerse in the beauty of nature? Join me at my upcoming Women’s Spring One-Day Retreat or this fall for Mindful Hiking (coming this October)!
by Connie Habash | Jun 12, 2017 | Aliveness, Animals, Appreciation, Beauty, Being, Comparison, Nature, Presence
Every morning, shortly after I wake, I do my “sit-spot” practice outside in our front yard. This is a practice of simply sitting and being present with everything in nature. It’s a beautiful way to begin my day with the freshness of the morning air, the sun beginning to peek through the leaves, the squirrels racing up and down the oak trees, and most of all, the birdsong.
I relish hearing the variety of birds in our neighborhood. On those beautiful, bright, sunny mornings it is pure delight to sit by our grassy patch and hear a bird calling from the tall redwood tree 5 houses down to the right, and to hear the high-pitched clicking sound of a hummingbird as it zooms in for a drink from our Mexican sage.
This morning, however, was quite different than the others for the last couple of months. It was dense with cloud-cover, and rain was expected. For California in June, this is rare. With ordinary eyes, one might wake up, see the dismal looking skies, and decide to just pull the covers over the head and go back to sleep. A dreary, cloudy day.
Not so for the birds. Like every other morning I’ve spent in sit-spot on my lawn, the birds were singing their song. They were out there – the chickadees, the spotted towhees, the wrens, the juncos, and the hummingbirds – chirping away. Every day they sing their song, sharing it with the world, declaring their right to be here and the beauty of having another sun rise (even if obscured by the clouds).
Funny how we humans don’t always appreciate our days like the birds do. We look at the external appearance, like the weather, and decide if this day is worth it or not. We allow external conditions – the weather, our bank account, or our relationship status – to determine the value we give to our life, here in this moment.
Your value, and the beauty of life, isn’t based on these temporary, external things. You inherently have value, just for Being. Your life is a miracle, each and every moment, just because It Is. Truly – the fact that any of us are alive, that we are part of this cycle of life on this rare and extraordinary planet that supports and sustains a vast array of beings, from microscopic to majestic, is miraculous. Think about it. You are part of that living miracle, and this moment in time is just as precious as any other – when you are truly Present with it.
The birds aren’t thinking about how big their nest is, or whether they will get enough seeds today, or if they are a good enough bird to sing. They aren’t questioning their value. They aren’t thinking about whether they are better or worse than other birds. They simply step out on that branch or telephone line, and sing their song. The birds are simply BEING who they are and allowing it to express into the world. No comparisons, judgments, or worries.
Singing your song is simply being and expressing your true nature. Let it out; open your voice and let the sound of your soul move through you. It doesn’t need to be loud or outrageous or amazing. It just needs to be you. The sound of the hawk and the sound of the junco are both needed to complete the symphony of nature. You don’t need a reason to justify it – you came here to authentically be who you are, and to be a part of All That Is. It wouldn’t be the same without you! So sing your song, today and every day, in every moment.
by Connie Habash | Sep 5, 2014 | Appreciation, Beauty, Being, Connection, Delight, Heart, Nature
This summer, my daughter and I shared an extraordinary week-long camping experience. There’s not a lot of words yet for what I feel. I can only offer feelings from my heart. The heart speaks in non-verbal ways – how to communicate that in a blog?
I can share images, experiences that touched me. The sound of a single bird would wake me at 5:30, gradually followed by other birds. The opening to my tent faced east, and on clear days, I’d see the rays of light beaming through the redwood trees across the large field we had our village gatherings in. On foggy mornings, we’d hear the drip-drip-drip of moisture from the redwood branches fall on our tent. My daughter and I would rise at 6, dress and join the handful of early-birds to sing the wake-up songs for the camp.
One day, I took off my shoes and socks, and scaled a hillside barefoot with my clan members, stealthily surrounding another clan to surprise them. I felt alive, like a child, full of the joy of adventure and play.
And tears streamed down my face as the teens returned to the village, victorious after their 2 night backpacking excursion into the wilderness, all of us singing and drumming at the tops of our voices to celebrate their rite of passage. How much I longed for every child to experience this transformation.
This trip was the first time in over 20 years that I have spent more than a night in a tent, sleeping on the ground. More importantly, it was a week-long program designed to deepen my connection to nature and a sense of community, and indeed, it filled those places in me – the longing to connect to others, and the longing to connect to our natural world.
It reflected to me again my calling, my sense of the compelling need in our society for authentic, real connection to our own selves, each other, our planet, and Spirit. I feel ever more moved to create spiritual communities that are nourishing each of us on these levels.
As I did, step out into nature and connect to it from your heart. Let it nourish you, and soothe the soft longing for deep connection. From that place, you need no words to speak from the heart.
by Connie Habash | Mar 27, 2014 | Awareness, Beauty, Being, Connection, Delight, Grounded, Mindfulness, Nature, Serendipity, Uncategorized
I love to sit in my backyard – just taking in whatever I see, hear, and feel. This practice is called the “sit-spot” – a technique used by naturalists to immerse themselves in the experience of a chosen location in nature, to get to know the flora and fauna in a much more intimate way.
My eyes captured the movement of a bird, hopping on the ground. It was clearly an insect eater – small, with a long, pointed beak. I wanted it to come closer, but it slipped through the lattice work of the fence to my neighbor’s yard. I decided that if I wanted to know this bird better, why not be like a bird?
I sat on the grass and looked down to see what a bird could eat there. Much to my surprise, several creatures gradually emerged. Two tiny black beetles with a shiny, copper iridescence on their backs; a number of gnats hovering around; some other miniscule winged insect; a tiny white winged insect; and, of course, the familiar rolly-pollies.
While fingering through the blades to discover more insects, I spied some weeds growing in my lawn, and decided to start pulling them up. Slowly I worked, my fingers digging down into grass and dead oak leaves, gently grasping and tugging. I knew I wasn’t always getting the root, but I didn’t care. I wanted to finish this trail that led me about a foot and a half away, carefully removing each renegade I found.
After finishing this area, I ambled over to the flower bed I had worked on a few days ago. A similar ground cover to baby’s tears had invaded this area, where my campanula was growing. They have very similar leaves – the baby’s tears were slightly thinner, and the spiked edges were a bit brownish. I was able to distinguish them from the Campanula also by the fact that they interconnected like a web: as I pulled up one area, it had shoots that spread over and connected to another.
As I uprooted the invasive plant, more creatures were revealed; a creamy-brown, multi-footed creature, and an earthworm, who was quite displeased, wiggling about in frustration as I had disturbed its resting place.
It took some time, but I cleared another small area of the bed, and felt pleased at the little achievement. I can see why people love to garden. It is simple, quiet, and grounding. I feel rooted and alive.
The textures, smells, sounds, the humble creatures that visit our backyard, and the new foliage unfolding every day awaken my senses and deepen my connection to this little patch of nature. When I’m willing to be like a bird, a whole new world opens up to me.
What do you experience when you allow yourself to be like a bird?
by Connie Habash | Feb 27, 2014 | Acknowledgement, Appreciation, Beauty, Blessings, Delight, Joy, Resilience, Resourcefulness, Seasons, Spring, Wind
One of the first flowers to reveal itself in the spring, the Dandelion is a common sight in sidewalk cracks and my own front yard. I saw the first one stealthily growing next to my African daisy by the front fence.
I pledged to stop pulling up these plants, what we usually consider to be “weeds”, as a way to support the local bee population. They are one of the first flowers to nourish honeybees when they emerge from hibernation. And since the honeybee is in serious danger in North America, I figured it was the least I could do.
On further reflection, I realized that there is more to the Dandelion than meets the eye. What a powerful little plant, and how much I can learn from it.
Dandelions pop up seemingly out of nowhere. They grow in the most difficult places, where there’s little water and poor soil (as well as my semi-manicured garden). They are extremely hardy. That’s some resilience, and something I could use more of.
It occurred to me that Dandelions give completely of themselves. Their leaves are food for animals (and apparently are edible for humans, too, although I’m not sure if the garden variety is fit for our consumption), deeply appreciated when abundant foliage still isn’t readily available in early spring. The health benefits and medicinal use of various parts of the Dandelion have been revered for centuries.
They unfold a beautiful yellow flower that offers nectar and pollen to bees. Dandelions are very important providers of food for bees, and it is said that settlers from Europe actually brought Dandelions over for this purpose. The Europeans knew that bees not only provided us honey, but were essential to growing crops. And how the Dandelion has propagated as a result of that!
Not only does this common yellow-flowered plant give of itself as food and medicine for other animals, but ask any child and they also give much beauty and joy. I always found these yellow flowers delightful. Like sourgrass, their sunny and bright blooms were harbingers of springtime. You didn’t have to plant them – they’d just show up and add color to the empty lots across the street, the patch of dirt behind a store, the corner of the yard by the shed.
But the greatest delight of children is near the end of their life-cycle. Who didn’t find joy at least once as a child, almost anywhere in the world, by blowing on a puff-ball of Dandelion seed and making a wish? I remember seeking out as many of them as I could with my friends, and seeing who could blow all the seeds off with just one exhale. Do you?
Then, we’d watch as the seeds floated and drifted away, sometimes carried high by a breeze. Where would they land? Where would those seeds become new Dandelion plants next spring?
What a brilliant way of propagating itself… the tiniest little seeds attached to a natural kite, just waiting for the next gentle wind to carry itself away.
The Dandelion gives all of itself as food, medicine, beauty, and enjoyment, and then it is spent. It dies, knowing it has touched many, and its offspring will carry on its part of the ecosystem.
Do you have some Dandelions in you? Some parts of yourself that you consider as weeds, useless, a nuisance, that you just want to get rid of? And yet, those parts of you may harbor some of the most powerful, healing qualities. The sadness in you may be a well of compassion for others. In one instance, you may see yourself as resistant and slow; in another, you’re recognized as patient and discerning. You might not believe you have much to offer others, and yet you find people seek you out for wisdom, comfort, or a safe haven to just be themselves.
You have within you many gifts that make a difference to others, even if you don’t always see it that way.
How can you be of more service to the world, like the Dandelion? How can you nourish others, or bring them delight?
by Connie Habash | Sep 3, 2013 | Appreciation, Beauty, Contentment, Happiness
photo courtesy of travelpoet.com
I’m not feeling all that well today – my stomach is upset, my neck hurts, and I feel kind of sluggish. But I realized that I can still feel happy.
Most of us tend to feel that if we don’t have things that we want, or situations don’t turn out the way we’d like, or if we’re not feeling how we want to feel, that we shouldn’t be happy. We believe that we can only be happy if we get what we want.
But is that really true?
There are many things I can be happy about today. The walk that my daughter, husband, and I took a through the neighborhood this morning was special, petting other people’s dogs and smelling roses along the way. I love the crows cawing in the front yard, and the gentle breeze. The house is more clean than dirty. Although I have a few loads of laundry yet to do, I’ve already done all the sheets.
You see, when I focus my attention on what I appreciate and what I DO have, rather than what I don’t have, I feel happy. It’s more of a feeling of contentment – yes, this moment is a good moment.
It doesn’t have to be a perfect moment for me to be happy. Or for you.
What do you appreciate right now in your life? What do you already have that is good?
Or, you can just be happy for no reason. No questions asked!
[Thank you to Kristie McLean for the amazing photograph! Check out more of her photography]
by Connie Habash | Apr 24, 2013 | Beauty, Expression, Growth, Movement, Patience, Peace, Quiet, Rebirth, Seasons, Spring, stillness
Nature reflects to us the process of personal and spiritual transformation all around us. In my classes, with my clients, and in spiritual community I honor and invite all to explore the profound affect these natural changes have on each of us.
Spring, the season we’re currently in, and summer are both times of longer daylight – hence, the energies around and within us are externally focused. It’s all about taking what is within you and finding ways of expressing it in the world.
Spring is new beginnings, where we burst forth from the gestation of the colder time of the year and feel ready for new adventures. We explore who we are becoming and we reinvent ourselves anew. It’s a good time to step into something you’ve toyed with for a while. It’s also a good time to listen to new perspectives and see the world in a fresh way.
Summer is taking those explorations to a new height. It’s the time of ripening. While spring encouraged us to step out into new territory, summer is prime-time for play and celebration of our success and our finer qualities. Allow yourself to authentically and radiantly shine, just like the sun. Recognize your gifts and share them freely, just as nature’s bounty blesses us with the fruits of the season.
At the end of summer we begin to feel the down-shift into a more introspective time. We enter the growing nighttime, and so, too, we enter the unconscious. Fall takes us away from the externally-focused energies of exuberant summertime and asks us to pause and consider what we feel, who we are, and to reminisce. We revisit the past during autumn to integrate, grieve, reflect, and heal.
Which takes us at last to winter, the coldest and most inward time. This is the great stillness; nature is quiet, hibernating. We, too, have been called by the inner silence to find peace with what is. We embrace our inner wisdom that we have gained from the four seasons of life, and let it gestate into something which we will share with the world. Winter is a time of the Spirit, peace, and patience.
Each season offers us new opportunities to understand ourselves and the world we live in. I facilitate that greater journey for every person I work with, as they are touched by what the season offers. What is this season offering you today?
by Connie Habash | Mar 4, 2013 | Beauty, Grounded, Meditation, Oneness, Potential, Quiet, stillness, Uncategorized
Outside my home office window, two majestic trees stand in my front yard. One, a large old California live oak, stands broad and substantial, spreading its thick branches out around it. The other, a pine tree, is more erect and stately, shooting straight up with several branches near the top, reaching in all directions with green needles.
Although they appear different, they both have that “tree energy”. Their roots go deep into the ground to connect with the earth. This gives them stability, strength, and nourishment. They stand in silence, unmoved, save for a breeze or the commotion of two squirrels frolicking in their branches. They are undeterred by weather or the cars that pass by on the road. And their branches endlessly reach for the heavens above, opening to the light of the sun.
I want to meditate like those trees. I want to root down to something so deep and stable within that I am unmoved, my focus steady and unwavering. When I’m rooted that firmly, and my mind becomes as quiet and still as a tree no matter what may be happening around me, I know it will be easier to receive Divine Light.
Sit with your back to the trunk of a tree. Be one with it. Let it show you what a tree knows.
Every morning, shortly after I wake, I do my “sit-spot” practice outside in our front yard. This is a practice of simply sitting and being present with everything in nature. It’s a beautiful way to begin my day with the freshness of the morning air, the sun beginning to peek through the leaves, the squirrels racing up and down the oak trees, and most of all, the birdsong.
This summer, my daughter and I shared an extraordinary week-long camping experience. There’s not a lot of words yet for what I feel. I can only offer feelings from my heart. The heart speaks in non-verbal ways – how to communicate that in a blog?
I love to sit in my backyard – just taking in whatever I see, hear, and feel. This practice is called the “sit-spot” – a technique used by naturalists to immerse themselves in the experience of a chosen location in nature, to get to know the flora and fauna in a much more intimate way.
One of the first flowers to reveal itself in the spring, the Dandelion is a common sight in sidewalk cracks and my own front yard. I saw the first one stealthily growing next to my African daisy by the front fence.
How can you be of more service to the world, like the Dandelion? How can you nourish others, or bring them delight?
Nature reflects to us the process of personal and spiritual transformation all around us. In my classes, with my clients, and in spiritual community I honor and invite all to explore the profound affect these natural changes have on each of us.
Outside my home office window, two majestic trees stand in my front yard. One, a large old California live oak, stands broad and substantial, spreading its thick branches out around it. The other, a pine tree, is more erect and stately, shooting straight up with several branches near the top, reaching in all directions with green needles.
