Hidden Blessings

My dear Friends and Family,

Perhaps you will join me in recognizing that with every debacle, disagreement, misunderstanding, misfortune, or loss of any kind, there are hidden blessings.

Sometimes, we have to dig (maybe even with a crane) to find them, but nonetheless, they are there. Other times they are much more obvious, per my example below.

Over the course of this past interesting year of perceived containment, I have had the very good fortune to re-connect with my beloved professor/teacher, Ana Perez-Chisti, as a student in both her World Religion Class as well as her Fourth Wave Divine Feminine class, which has been an accompaniment to her latest book, published May 15, 2021: Sweet Reign—Fourth Wave Feminine Principles. I am anxiously awaiting my copy.

That Dr. Perez-Chisti is holding these classes on Zoom, an inevitable necessity triggered by the lockdown, has been indeed a blessing for me, since her Institute is in the Bay area of California and I reside in the mountains of Colorado—not an easy commute.

In the World Religion class, we are currently studying Judaism and last night’s class was devoted to the book of Exodus in The Bible. Masterfully, Ana pointed out the symbolism of the chapter, which had never occurred to me: “that there is within us always an opportunity to leave our own slavery and containment. Divine energy is kept down by the enslavement of anything that is not conducive to life’s progression—which would include being under the control of a dominant paradigm.”

Her words reminded me that the current governmental climate under which we are living (from my personal lens), seems to be quite heavily swayed toward perpetuating a quagmire of controls and regulations over the masses (among whom I seem to be currently operating—you too?).

Nonetheless, I fully believe, fortified by dear teacher Ana’s ever constant encouragement and wise insights, that if we use those cranes of ours to dig down deeply while systematically investigating our individual truths, we will be fortified with the necessary momentum to transcend any perceived control over our restricted freedoms.

And, while in the process, as we keep attracting others in to our circle of trust—operating with similar intent, we will be repeatedly fortified by the collective swell of an upsurge in a cooperative, shared, communal momentum that will transcend any stronghold under which our bodies, minds, and spirits, appear to be “locked down.”

And here is the really good news: while we continue gathering that momentum, we are fully participating in the evolutionary process that will catapult the human race into an entirely different stratosphere of consciousness than the one under which we are currently operating—where those bodies, minds, and spirits of ours will continue to live and thrive in the ultimate freedom that is our birthright.

As Stephen Weigand, my beloved son and yoga master said in his beautiful class today, “If we can keep a strong resolve to continue uncovering the truth while cultivating our warrior spirits through our practices—even when Life seems to throw us a curve ball, we are bound to uncover our very best destiny.” Don’t you just love that? I know he is my son, but I have to say, he is an amazing teacher. See for yourself.
I would categorize recent experiences in the adventures of printing my latest book, Self Belonging, to be among one of those curve balls.

As many of you know, our launch date for the book was April 13, 2021, and as of this writing, almost six weeks later, it is finally showing up on on Amazon as available. Barnes and Noble, Bookshop.org, and Books-A- Million, among other booksellers, will likely follow suit soon.

I am told that there was a snag in the “printing press operation” that sends the book out to these various booksellers, which has taken some time to work out.

Here is the blessing in the “printing press quagmire”: in the interim period between now and the official launch date of the material in April, I have been doing more research on places where I would like the book to land.

Some of those are colleges and universities for eager students to learn about the blessings in self-belonging, and will require a hard-bound copy, which we did not create with our first printing. Therefore, I will be producing a hard-bound version of the book in the next publishing endeavor, which I am over-the-moon excited about, and am initiating immediately.

For those of you, who are patiently standing by for the arrival of your paper-back copy to arrive, please know of my sincere gratitude for your tolerance regarding the delay, and feel free to keep us apprised of any issues you continue to have. Also, if you would be so kind as to email me a brief note with your ground mailing address and anything else you’d like to share about yourself and your story, it will be my absolute pleasure to send you a complimentary hard bound copy of Self Belonging once it’s published, which I plan to support happening over the summer months. My gift of the book will be my gesture of gratitude for your support in hanging in there with me.

In the meantime, let’s hold hands and stick together as we approach this glorious summertime and intend that it will be a peaceful, healing, healthy, and prosperous time for us all, together with the rest of humanity.

Believing in you!

With so much love and gratitude,


Gratitude and Thanksgiving—2020—Honoring Vicki

A couple of weeks ago I had a bad hair day. If you are a living, breathing female you get it. Usually, even when we’re tempted to obsess we can take a beat and get over it. I suggest you follow that coping strategy instead of what I did. Trust me on this. Otherwise, you too could end up looking like Amy Klobuchar or Elizabeth Warren—who for despite any political savvy are not our favorite fashion gurus. There was definitely a glitch in the dialogue with my beautician, who whacked off a bushel of hairx in a matter of seconds. In her defense, she did give me fair warning. “Are you ready?” she inquired. Turns out my affirmative spelled disaster. 

During my pre-teen days, my mother insisted on dabbing me with Tony-perms, a-curly-version-pre-curser to the Elizabeth Warren/Amy Klobuchar look. Of course, anyone under the age of 65 will not recognize the reference, but if you want a great laugh, click on to this one-minute clip of a 60’s vintage “Tony” do:

You’ll either relate to my anguish or recall the shock and awe when your mother did this to you.  

In high school I rebelled and have sported Rapunzel locks ever since—right up until my pivotal appointment. I’ve already researched how long it will take to grow back those five or six inches: one year. Maybe you dislike the expression, “It is what it is,” as much as I do, particularly when your mirror has no mercy. But after taking some deep breaths, I remembered a couple of lines from Self Belonging, my second book, due out in February: “What’s being asked of you in this situation? What would happen if you didn’t resist it? As you continue to step back in the moment from whatever is disturbing your peace of mind—without a need to fix or change it—you build emotional resilience.” 

Well…here’s to my “emotional resilience!” I gotta admit, I am a work in progress. Nonetheless, once I pondered the situation and dove in a bit during this Thanksgiving week, I was taken back to eleven years ago when I spent my last Thanksgiving holiday with my dear sister-in-law, Vicki, who died a few months later. She was beautiful, vivacious, loving, and kind—a very brave and damned near perfect woman. Watching her slowly slip away from metastasized cancer, was one of the most sobering experiences of my life. A few years earlier, a tumor was discovered behind her eye. Though successfully radiated and contained (at the time), it still caused her to lose her sight in the treated eye. As it happens, I have an infection this week, blurring the vision in one of my eyes—another vivid reminder of Vicki’s incredible valor.

Reluctantly, I left Vicki for a few weeks during the course of her grave illness, to come home and regroup. She called me just after she’d watched her gorgeous, sable-colored hair (all of it) drop to the floor, shaved off in preparation for chemo, which would cause it to fall out in clumps. She chose the quicker version of that disaster, while sucking up her anguish at a hairless head, staring back at her in the mirror. Vicki Lynn Hull was a saint. All she said to me about the experience was, “I didn’t like it.” Toward the end of her life, with chemo suspended, her hair did start growing back, forming tiny little ringlets, which delighted her. She’d learned to take such pleasure in simple things—like feeling, seeing, and sensing those little stubbles. 

Dear Hearts, these are pretty challenging times. No doubt about it. We have all been inconvenienced in one way or another by this invisible, lurking “thing.”  For some, the challenges have been extreme: there are people out of work, others are sick, and depression is on the rise. Many of us have decided or been forced to change our holiday plans. It is never more evident than now that those of us privileged to live in the U.S. are dispersed over wide swaths of the country—great distances that now separate us from our loved ones. We’d been so used to hopping on a plane to get here or there, that up until earlier this year it never occurred to us that most travel would no longer be an option, even if we did have the time and money. It’s all so strange. Can we actually find things to be grateful for in the midst of it? Here’s my own best shot:

  1. I still have hair—which is actually a little bit longer than Elizabeth’s and Amy’s. 
  2. I can smell and taste (an acquaintance recovering from Covid still cannot).
  3. I can see—with both eyes (even if one is blurry).
  4. I can hear with both ears, so I can talk to my loved ones and even enjoy “face time” with them—even as we won’t be sharing our traditional Thanksgiving meal.
  5. I can breathe easily.
  6. I can get outside and walk, daily.
  7. Though the days are starting to get shorter and shorter, the solstice will happen in less than a month, and spring will come—eventually.
  8. I have paper towels and toilet paper (even if it isn’t Charmin).
  9. The electricity is on. (It was off a couple of weeks ago). 
  10. The plumbing is working.

I know, this stuff seems pretty basic, but what I find in creating a list like this as often as possible is that it’s honestly a lot easier to get to gratitude when you realize how much the basics really matter. And I don’t know about you, but if I can discipline myself to do this the minute I feel myself “going south,” I get a noticeable upsurge in my energy. This year, I delight in going a bit beyond the basics in noting my full-on enjoyment while seeing a smile (minus a mask). And when there is a mask awkwardly affixed to someone’s face, I really like exchanging gazes with them (often strangers), smiling myself (with my own mask on) and watching their eyes light up and crinkle with a smile back (even if it is underneath that awkward face covering).

Happy Thanksgiving, dearest Friends and Family. I love and appreciate you all!


Thanksgiving, 2020