by Connie Habash | Nov 22, 2025 | Appreciation, Connection, Gratitude
November has arrived! Autumn is unfolding all around us, and of course our thoughts turn towards the uniquely American holiday, Thanksgiving, and gratitude. Have you ever considered what the source of gratitude is within us?
At Thanksgiving, we begin to reflect on what we’re thankful for. But this sense of gratitude within us doesn’t come from just what we have.
Where Gratitude Really Comes From
Of course, having a generous plate full of food is something to be thankful for! Many people in the world don’t have that right now, and the pilgrims, who created this holiday, knew that well.
Gratitude arises within us when we allow ourselves to be truly filled in the present moment, as it is. This inner fulfillment doesn’t come from getting what we want or having plenty of “stuff”, whatever that is. It doesn’t come from others in our life, either, although certainly our loved ones are precious.
Fulfillment Beyond What We Have
When we feel fulfilled, it is because we have opened to that experience within us, right here, right now. That we already have what we truly need within. That life, in this present moment, gives us so much simply by being alive. The source of gratitude is that opening within us to feel our connection with the Universe, and therefore to feel fulfilled.
The spiritual paradox is that we can also feel more fulfilled by practicing gratitude. So if you don’t, in this moment, feel that deep fulfillment, begin to focus your attention on what you already have and what is a blessing around you. The rain that is bringing life to the earth… the beautiful red and orange maple leaves… the smell of fresh cut grass… a hug from your child, or embrace from your partner… a single flame of a candle…tasting warm soup… this next breath.
Finding Gratitude in the Smallest Things
This Thanksgiving (and any time), I hope you’ll set aside a bit of time to make some hot apple cider, put your feet up by the fire, and pull out a journal for some fruitful fall reflections. Seek your source of gratitude within you, through the practice of seeing the blessings and abundance that are already here.
Yes, even those little tiny things, like having socks or water flowing through the faucet. Feel your connection to all of life, for we are inseparable from this planet. Recognizing the smallest bit of blessings will build on itself, as you continue the practice, and open up the source of gratitude and fulfillment within you.
Feeling called to nurture deeper gratitude and inner connection? Explore Spiritual Mentoring to support your path to inner fulfillment.
by Connie Habash | Apr 13, 2022 | Aliveness, Attention, Awareness, Connection, Presence
So many of us drive, even for short distances. Is it a way of avoiding the world? What are the gifts of walking? Here is my short reverie on a walk across town.
My chiropractor’s office is a very short drive from my home – about 3-5 minutes or so. Since I wouldn’t have time for my usual routine of weights and yoga (or a morning hike), I decide, what the heck – why don’t I walk there?
I live in a suburban area that is a combination of quaint, middle-class residences, some larger, high-traffic streets, and a section of town filled with Latin-American restaurants and shops. It’s a pleasant blend of cultures, even if I’d rather live somewhere more immersed in nature. But I hesitate to walk through it. I don’t like being around cars, or on pavement and asphalt. How hypocritical, though, since I drive over it every day.
As I finish the short jaunt down my residential road and turn onto the larger street, I wonder what people would think. A middle-aged Caucasian woman, walking through a part of town in which you only see Latina mothers taking their children to school or Mexican gentlemen walking to work. Everyone else is insulated in their cars, driving by without interest in anything other than getting somewhere else.
I relish the experience. I want to look people in the eye, connect, smile, and say “buenos dias”. I want to see how it is to be on their turf and feel like the outsider. But also to see our common spirit within.
I also relish being outdoors, even if covered in a lot of pavement. No one else takes the time to stop and smell the remains of the night-blooming jasmine creeping over a fence, or to touch the soft, new, pale- green leaves of a vine – except me. They must think I’m crazy. I feel like the most sane person in Silicon Valley.
There’s a whole world that’s alive around us, and dead around us, too. No one seems to pay attention. They just drive by the candy wrappers and the crushed carton of chocolate milk that someone tossed in the gutter. No one else seems to care about the two weeds that resiliently grow between the cracks on the sidewalk. I do.
When I’m out of my car, I can hear the chickadees congregating in the maple tree above me as I amble by on the sidewalk. Life is everywhere here, in the wind tossing my disheveled hair, the surprising drizzle of rain as I cross the street. We rarely have rain in California this late in the season. I don’t care if my hair gets frizzy – I leave my hood down to feel it gently pelting my face and scalp.
When I’m walking, I see what others try to ignore. What I, admittedly, ignore most of the time. There’s pain here, there’s loss, there’s disconnection. As I walk through the underpass of the railroad tracks, a huge pile of junk reveals itself to me that had been hidden behind a wall, dividing the area from the street. A discarded mattress; an old cream-colored arm chair; a rusted bike that was missing a handle bar and a tire; and assorted shoes and trash, scattered about. From the side of the road, none of it is visible. But I’m walking, and it’s all there, revealing itself. Stolen? Thrown away? Things no longer wanted, what was once of value and now junk. Now, littering the town and in its ugliness telling other stories that the drivers don’t want to hear.
There are things happening here that we aren’t paying attention to. This is our world. We’re in it, but not really living in it. We’re so disconnected from it, we don’t know what’s really going on. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe it only matters what is happening in our car, as we talk into our headset on our way to work or the mall. Maybe it doesn’t matter to see an old, run-down building with peeling paint as we drive by, or to smell the yellow roses growing near the curb.
But this is our world. If we continue to disconnect ourselves from it, what will the consequences be? Will we become so insulated that we won’t notice when our waters all turn gray from chemicals, when the only trees that remain are irrigated down the midline of the avenue? Will we disconnect so much that we won’t greet strangers anymore, and the only walking we do is from the parking lot to the automatic sliding door, or on a treadmill?
I hope not. I love to walk. And I love this world. Want to meet for a jaunt around the neighborhood?
Want to connect with others in the outdoors – walking, hiking, yoga and meditating, practicing Presence, discovering our beautiful planet? Join me at one of my upcoming events!
by Connie Habash | Nov 6, 2019 | Authenticity, Connection, Freedom, Growth, Projection
Life certainly has its ups and downs, as we all know. But those ups and downs are often not perceived accurately by us. We are like movie projectors, carrying around a screen that we place between us and our lives. If we can catch ourselves projecting and take the screen down, true intimacy, connection, and healing can occur. It is the key to our personal and spiritual awakening.
We Create Simulators with Projections
Have you ever been on a simulated ride, like the Star Tours ride at Disneyland? Do they actually fly through space as hundreds of miles an hour? No, they don’t. They are on hydraulics, lifted up and down and shifted side to side to simulate motion.
If you didn’t have a screen, you’d feel yourself jerked around and moved back and forth, which might be kind of fun and maybe jarring. But the projected screen in front of you gives you the impression that you’re dropping thousands of feet, accelerating rapidly, or narrowly missing a crash. The movie you are shown as you travel through it makes it feel incredibly real and much more intense.
We’re setting up our projection screens around us all the time, much like that ride. We may experience a difference of opinion with someone else, or a sharp retort by our partner – something that makes us feel uncomfortable or upset. But when we turn on our projector and set up the screen – unconscious and almost immediate, if old issues are triggered – the situation takes on a completely different feel. Suddenly, it’s life or death, or appears far more significant or upsetting than it would to someone else who isn’t watching our movie.
Projections Make Things Bigger
A small event – like forgetting to take the trash out – can take on big proportions when we project on it. If we were told as a child that we’re lazy and no good (especially when we forgot to take out the trash!), all those old feelings can flood back in. Shame arises. We may want to curl up in a ball or hide in our room, avoiding the situation. We may even feel angry and defensive, worrying that someone may judge us for forgetting. And if someone, heaven forbid, does mention it, we can lash out angrily in that defensiveness. We could accuse them of being mean, or we might burst into tears and fall apart.
All that happened was that we forgot to take out the trash. It’s an easy thing to forget, and an easy thing to change, if we are seeing it clearly without our old story projected on it.
If you happened to be triggered by a relatively minor thing (or even if it’s a major one), it’s worth it to consider projections. What might my old story be that I’m overlaying on this situation? What is the source of where this unnecessarily strong emotion is coming from? What is being projected on these people and circumstances?
Casting Our Movies
It is very easy to cast ourselves, and others in our lives, in our old movie. We replay our part, again and again, when we let the projector continue to run. And we find people that are similar enough to cast in the story’s roles, much to the detriment of those relationships. We can’t have authentic connection and communication when we’ve already written the script.
Recognize when you are using a projector, and take down the screen. That means seeing the story that it originated from as it is, separate from present time. You may still feel the attraction to want to tell the story again, but don’t project it on the current situation. Get to know the story. Feel it in your body, recognize the emotions and the old thought patterns. See it for what it is, and acknowledge that it isn’t happening right now, no matter how similar the current situation may be.
True Freedom
Personal growth and spiritual awakening happen when we take down the screen and turn off the projector. We can be present with whatever is, knowing we are capable of responding to it. We can see the essence of others and find common ground, rather than make assumptions. Our true essence, which is beyond thoughts or projections, can shine forth. Possibilities for healing, renewed relationships, and empowerment arise when we turn off the old movies and relate in the present moment.
Recognize and honor the story. Then release it. Beyond our projections, true freedom is at hand.
by Connie Habash | Apr 22, 2019 | Attention, Connection, Consciousness, Energy, Intention, Support
It’s my morning ritual to sit in the front yard and take in whatever nature has to offer me. I receive messages from Spirit in profound ways from simple things. Simple things like thin, invisible threads.
The other day, something in the air caught my eye. It hovered between the tall pine in the very front of the garden and my neighbor’s apple tree over the fence to the right. I walked over to take a look, and there in the air were a small handful of what looked like dead grass cuttings. Of course – they were caught in a spider’s web!
But how in the world did the spider do this? It stretched about 9 feet between the two trees. And still, those blades of grass were suspended by a few delicate strands. Invisible threads, yet so strong and supportive.
This spider’s web reminded me that we are all held and surrounded by invisible threads. There are three kinds of these imperceptible supports in our life.
The Threads of Spirit
We may feel alone and unsupported. But just because we can’t see the support doesn’t mean it’s not there.
Our planet is supported in space, by unseen yet palpable forces. We are held on this planet by gravity – we don’t perceive it other than by feeling our feet on the ground, which we take for granted. There is a similar invisible support in our lives – the support from the Divine.
Whether you think of it as God, the Universe, Great Spirit, Buddha, Jesus, Lakshmi, or a myriad of other names, the Source out of which everything arises has supported and is supporting everything in the Universe. This doesn’t mean that life always goes perfectly. But it does mean that we can call on the support we need to meet each day from those invisible threads. We are given what we need to rise up to any challenge before us. The threads of Spirit hold us up on our life path every day, in every moment, even when we don’t think they’re there. Just like gravity holds us on the planet.
The Threads of Connection
When I went into the front yard this morning, I saw the creator of those threads. A very large garden spider hung in the middle of the web. She seemed proud of her work, and by the size of her I could see she’s been successful at catching those bugs!
This is another aspect of these invisible threads. We, too, are creating invisible threads all the time. There are two kinds of threads of Connection that we create or co-create with others. The threads of Connection are energetic strands between us and others in our lives. They are generally formed out of love, but sometimes are created out of unhealthy attachments.
Some of these threads support us and are deeply fulfilling. Family, loved ones, friends, respected associates – we have threads of connection with all these important people (and beings – you can have a thread of Connection with a pet, too!) in our lives. They, like the threads of Spirit, provide us with nurturance, support, encouragement, and a feeling of belonging. We all want to feel connected, both to one another and to something Greater than us. We can have threads that connect us to the land, the elements, to sacred places and sacred people that we are inspired by.
Other threads, however, can pull us down. It is up to each of us to assess what threads of connection are founded in love and mutual support, and what threads have we created or allowed to be hooked into ourselves that aren’t healthy. Being overly dependent on others, holding on to anger or resentment, or allowing others to drain our time and energy are dysfunctional cords that might need to be cut, healed, or modified to be more mutually beneficial.
If an invisible thread between you and other doesn’t feel right, take some time to sort out what the problem is. Do you want to keep this connection to this person? If so, how do you want to rectify the relationship? How might you change your interactions and responses? If not, is there anything you need to do or say to really let them go? Make sure that these invisible threads of Connection are relationships that you truly value in your life.
The Threads of Intent
This last invisible thread is one that you may not know about, yet it is an essential component of spiritual living. Without it, the spider wouldn’t have made her web nor would she have caught enough morsels to grow into her formidable size!
We create threads of Intent all the time, whether we are conscious of them or not. Intention fuels our goals and keeps us on course for reaching them. When we set an intention, we are casting out a thread towards our intended destination.
This has a couple of effects. First of all, it pulls us towards our goal, and draws the goal towards us as well. We cast the thread, it hooks to our vision of what we want, and then like a tractor beam, we are drawn towards it. The stronger our Intent, the more intense and powerful the beam. When we are gung-ho about running a marathon or finishing a knitting project, our intent focuses our attention and energy in that direction. We are out running miles each day, or knitting like there’s no tomorrow. We will see opportunities to fit in a run on a short trip, and make time for more knitting in the evenings after work.
The second effect of creating a thread of Intent is that it “catches” what resonates with our vision. Just like the spider who spun her web to catch flies, when we have an Intention, it’s like a web out in the Universe, waiting for something to fly by that fits the bill. If you are seeking a new mate and focus your Intent on the kind of relationship you want, the threads of Intent will let you know when someone is near that plucks your heart strings. Like the spider, when that person comes near, you’ll feel a tug on that thread of Intent and know that this is a person worth connecting to. The spider got big from catching all those bugs – and you, too, can be deeply fulfilled when you are conscious about sending out your Threads of Intent.
Weave Your Web Well
Everyday, we are creating threads and feeling the effects of our connections to Spirit, others, and our life visions. Begin to pay attention to your threads, which are energetic connections. Cultivate your threads of Spirit and allow yourself to receive that Divine support. Nurture your threads to those you love and who encourage and love you. Choose your threads of intention with mindfulness and service to a higher good.
Weave your webs of light well. The fabric of those threads is the light of Consciousness itself.
When you’re attentive and conscious about your energetic threads, you will spin a glorious tapestry of truth, harmony, beauty, and empowerment which will ripple out to uplift others, too.
What threads are you noticing in your life, and what web are you weaving?
by Connie Habash | Mar 14, 2017 | Acceptance, Action, Connection, Determination, Faith, Neutrality, Oneness, Persistence, Seeking
My family and I were determined to get outdoors to enjoy the lovely weather the last few days, and headed to Huddart Park for a hike on Sunday. We adore this nearby natural gem, filled with redwoods, bay laurels, and tan oaks, and a beautiful (and quite full after the rains!) creek running through it.
We marveled at the wildflowers already in bloom – some dainty, five-petaled white blossoms, and the sweet lavender flowers of redwood sorrel, which I had never seen in bloom before. They were profuse and a delight to the eyes.
Near the last half-mile of our modest adventure my daughter and I stopped at a stream, as we often do, to explore and to enjoy rock face painting. This is something she learned from Katie Hicks at our last retreat at Ananda Valley Farm. Taking a rock about the size of your palm in one hand, you select a colorful rock that can easily be held by the other, and rub it on the rock. After a minute or so, viola – paint is created! We enjoyed decorating each other’s faces in reddish-brown and greyish-yellow designs.
My husband decided to move along the trail ahead of us while we were immersed in our playfulness. He stepped off-trail at another familiar spot along the creek, headed a bit upstream, and sat down on a beautiful, warm, sunny spot on the slope about 10 feet above the creek. It was peaceful, meditative, and relaxing.
As my daughter and I finished up our faces, we headed up the trail to catch up with Michael. We looked upstream and didn’t see him, so we figured he must have headed back to the car. After 30 minutes of waiting for him in the parking lot, he arrived, looking a bit flustered. Upon descending the slope where he had sat in quiet reflection, he slipped and fell on his hip. His knee was scraped, and he was OK, but quite unhappy. Not because of his injuries, but because in the process his wedding band slipped off his finger, and it was nowhere in sight.
We rushed back to the site and the three of us scoured the area, looking in the most likely spots according to his trajectory as the hillside had unceremoniously tossed him downhill. We carefully moved aside compost, redwood pine cones, and twigs, but to no avail; we couldn’t find the ring. Did it fly in the air and land somewhere far? Somewhere we wouldn’t expect? Did it bounce and roll down into the stream, which was a couple feet deep at this spot? I couldn’t see anything in the silt at the bottom
Strangely, I didn’t feel very upset. There was a sense of detachment and neutrality about the whole thing. It’s just a ring. It’s OK if it’s gone, but I believe we can find it. My daughter was the most upset, feeling very sad for her dad. He wondered if perhaps it had slipped off his hand into a pants pocket back at home, or at the gym the previous day and he just hadn’t noticed. Nope, not anywhere. But I had faith – I knew the ring would show up, I just didn’t know where or how.
We decided to rent a good metal detector and give it a go the next day. It was another spectacularly beautiful, warm March morning as we headed back to the scene, metal detector in tow. I moved it back and forth close to the ground on the slippery mud where he had come tumbling down. Michael, however, suggested we check out an area to our left where there was more compost. This would have been a few feet off to his right as he slid and I thought it unlikely, as the ring was on his left hand and would have had to fly across to the other side. But I figured he might be onto something, and handed him the detector.
After a few seconds, we heard the beep-beep of a response, indicating something metal was in the vicinity. I kneeled at the spot as he moved the sensor slower and slower, narrowing down the exact location. With my garden gloves on, I began to gingerly dig through the twigs and redwood needles. Would we find the ring? Or perhaps some unexpected treasure? Or just an old rusty nail?
I cleared about 2 inches of debris and saw a shiny object – there it was, the ring! I was amazed, almost dumbfounded. Within less than 3 minutes of looking, we had found it. I had been prepared for searching for a half-hour or it being lost forever, and here it was, easy to find. We both heaved a sigh of relief and shouted in joy.
Before we had left our house that morning, I remember commenting to my husband, “when we find the ring…” It was a declaration of faith and certainty that it would reappear. That ring of faith indeed was there, ready for us to find. We only had to determine that we would show up and follow our inner knowing as to where it was.
One time, long ago, you had a ring of faith and thought it was lost. But it’s still there, where you left it. Your deep, inner connection to the Divine has never been “lost” – you just lost track of it perhaps when you were very, very young. Be determined. Know the ring, the connection, is there, and make your declaration that you are finding it. Listen to your intuition, your inner knowing beyond reason, and let it guide you to whatever you need to return to that state of deep connectedness and wholeness. Don’t be afraid to dig. Don’t buy into the doubt and give up. It’s waiting for you – have faith, and follow the trail back to your True Self.
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?
Life certainly has its ups and downs, as we all know. But those ups and downs are often not perceived accurately by us. We are like movie projectors, carrying around a screen that we place between us and our lives. If we can catch ourselves projecting and take the screen down, true intimacy, connection, and healing can occur. It is the key to our personal and spiritual awakening.
It’s my morning ritual to sit in the front yard and take in whatever nature has to offer me. I receive messages from Spirit in profound ways from simple things. Simple things like thin, invisible threads.
My family and I were determined to get outdoors to enjoy the lovely weather the last few days, and headed to Huddart Park for a hike on Sunday. We adore this nearby natural gem, filled with redwoods, bay laurels, and tan oaks, and a beautiful (and quite full after the rains!) creek running through it.
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.
