Posted in Ancestors, My Bonnie

All Souls Eve

Today finds me preparing for a women’s retreat in my home, appreciating the cocoon of a dark morning.

This will be the first of 7 gatherings, one for each month/each chakra, carrying us through winter and depositing us deep into spring.

With 1st chakra meditational music playing in the background, I fetch a photo from my desk to add to the altar, but in my doing, I am suddenly stilled by the face of my mother, my hand drawn to my heart, her gaze so compelling.

Didn’t this heart of mine first beat inside hers? Wasn’t it the sound of her heart that I first heard?

In the tiny photo, I can almost make out a dimple in her chin, like the one at the center of mine, which I’d always assumed came from my father, everyone saying, “You look just like him. You are just like him.”

And yes, I had his smile, his walk, his confidence and authority; but it was my mother who taught me to steep in the Mystery, to listen beneath the surface, to commune with the soul.

It was her gentleness that was my greatest teacher.

To all those who came before me, those who brought me joy or pain or both. To all those lives passed before mine.

I bow.

~All Souls Eve, 2018


Lifelong educator, writer, retreat & journey leader, yoga & yogadance instructor.

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