The other day as I drove into our driveway, a hawk was sitting on the fence post and looked my way as I passed. I took that as a greeting by our winged sentry (ok, she might have been just looking for voles, but she does like our fence post). Then, our dogs bounded out, tails wagging, welcoming me home. On my walk, an owl nodded as I passed under a tree.
And it hit me how powerful it feels to be welcomed – and how often I don’t allow or breathe in the receiving energy of welcoming deeply enough. Later that night, I remembered a book my children loved to have read to them when they were little called On The Day You Were Born which beautifully illustrates the joy, energy and celebration from the earth and the animals welcoming each of us here.
Over the last week, my practice has been to pause several times a day, for just a moment – to feel the earth under my feet, the air around my body, the light above my head; to open my eyes a smidge wider and see a little broader, and allow the opening of my heart to feel the welcoming from the earth. I’m finding that these moments build aliveness, connection and awareness of the relationship we have with this planet and all the beings around us. What if we allowed it to sink in that we were welcomed by Mother Earth, even after all our mindlessness toward her?
If we are welcomed, we might not have to run quite so fast. If we are welcomed, we may soften our own self judgment, allow the love, and lean in to our connection more deeply. What does it feel like to embrace and allow that kindness, even that self-forgiveness? How might it impact our decision making? How might if shift…well…everything? Soften in to to being welcomed.
In this season of giving when the nights are short, breathe in that even the darkness and the quiet welcome us.
Happy December Welcoming,
~ Our 6 minute practice — a few minutes of breathing in feeling welcomed (from your toes to your head); a couple of minutes of setting an intention (perhaps to remember the power of “welcome”); a minute or so of being grateful (perhaps for just the ground under your feet).