2022 the year we learn to listen to love Week 43–in which we receive an invitation Friends, soul writers, mystics, witches, and lovers of prayer, An evocative invitation arrives this time each year. But most of us stay too busy to notice. For eleven months, we move through the year hoping to find some kind…Read More
2022 the year we learn to listen to love Week 17–in which we realize that prayer–real prayer–is alive Friends, soul writers, mystics, witches, and lovers of prayer, I’m a prayer artist. Prayer is the heart of my life, the drumbeat of my heart. I never get tired of praying or learning about prayer or experimenting…Read More
2022 the year we learn to listen to love Week 10–in which we begin to hear whispers of the long story of our souls Video comming soon! There is always a wild mystical adventure behind my prayer intensives. I trust you know by now that I don’t try to think up topics to teach. Which…Read More
2022 the year we learn to listen to love Week 5–in which we realize that love requires reckoning Friends, soul writers, mystics, and lovers of prayer, When my son came home from college the summer after his freshman year, we were talking in the living room one evening about something in the news that upset…Read More
2022 the year we learn to listen to love Week 4–in which we discover the radical paradox in Free Your Voice hiding in plain sight Friends, soul writers, mystics, and lovers of prayer, The first prayer intensive for 2022—the year we learn to listen to love—is about to open. You might well assume that because I’m…Read More
2022 the year we learn to listen to love Week 3–in which we learn to speak our holy yes and our holy no with love Friends, soul writers, mystics, and lovers of prayer, What’s the holiest word you’ve ever spoken? The first thought that may pop into your mind is “Yes.” Yes is held up…Read More
2022 the year we learn to listen to love Week 2–in which an ancient queen frees a modern woman’s voice Friends, soul writers, mystics, and lovers of prayer, In last Sunday’s Week 1 Notes from the Field for 2022, we began a 52-week-long walk to learn to listen to love. (If you want to hear…Read More
I am a Prayer Artist. Not because I decided I was. How could I? I’d never heard of such a thing. And neither had anyone else. I know this because when I googled prayer artist, nothing—I mean nothing—came up. But I clearly heard those two words whispered in my left ear in the wee hours…Read More
This has been and continues to be a most extraordinary year. And I don’t think we have even begun to understand what is afoot. We came into 2020 with a knowing that everything was about to change—every astrologer has been saying that. They’ve been beating the drum of change since 2015. Each year has had its…Read More
The heart of radical prayer is forgiving everyone. Everyone. We begin by gazing. We gaze with love at those we find hard to love.Read More
My body is more than a temple for the divine, my body is divine.
This is beyond an idea. This is a living sensation. A deep body knowing. You can’t learn that your body is holy, you feel it. And you feel it in your body. So how do you get there?
There is a vital connection between creativity and mysticism. To make art is to make love with the sacred.Read More
When Susan Matyas sent an email inviting me to speak at her “The Ageless Woman” summit, I started laughing.
Not at her. Or at her summit. But at this crazy synchronicity.Read More
After 4 deep personal experiences with Ho‘oponopono, we are turning our love and prayers toward our shared mother, our One Mother, Mother Earth.Read More
What is prayer? Have you ever asked yourself this question?
I never did.
Prayer was simply what we did as a child.
No one sat me down and talked about what prayer is or who we’re praying to or why. It was just assumed. It was in the air.
And I didn’t question it.Read More
When I first heard the words, “prayer artist” in the night, I didn’t have a clue what it meant or where it would take me. And it scared me.Read More
When I clearly heard “prayer artist” in the night 11 months ago, I had a choice. Even in the dark in the middle of the night, I knew I had a choice. But here’s the problem:
My body voted one way. My heart another.