This month of September has not been an easy one for me.  With the many mornings of fog that started the school year and new long routes to drive, I’ve looked forward to a sense of routine resuming.  Just about as soon as a schedule normalized the next thing was this strange feeling of too much time.  How in the world does anyone ever have too much time?  It’s what we aspire for, we think.  As if retirement will give us this magical dream of rest and ease though time doesn’t necessarily equate to ease.  Relatively speaking, I’ve had some ease but then… there were those eclipses!  Whoa!

It was sort of too much for me.  Inside I had this impenetrable feeling when really I wanted the penetrable feeling.  It seemed inwardly, that somehow, I could not break through this pent up force of energy.  I won’t go into the details but I want to talk about some of the hardships I felt and how finally, things shifted.

Sort of ebbing and flowing near the surface of my being was this sense of rejection.  It was the meaning that I made out of a situation where I wasn’t getting what I wanted.  I was trying all these different avenues to change my outer reality and aware that as I sorted out my thoughts, I wove a story.  I love stories but I know to be weary of a good story. Sometimes a good story can suck you in and you might get caught in a loop.  As last Friday’s full moon came along with its eclipse, I wanted to break free and I just wasn’t sure how.  I sulked and attempted to self sooth- with a book, time in the garden, exercise, cleaning.  Whatever I could do.

With my children for company on Friday night, I decided to see what was playing at the three dollar theater.  We ended up watching trailers.  None of the movies we wanted to see were playing but wow for the trailer to Bad Moms!  We laughed a riot and my nine year old cracked up raving enthusiastically, “I wanna see that!”  (Disclaimer:  Not appropriate for children.  Really, not!)

Good news people.  I got inspired!  Thank God!  That wonderful feeling where the world is in your hands and you can make of things what you will.  The Bad Mom in me came out, which was really more of the unbound wild freed up by laughter.  My son had asked several times in the past two days if he could make whipped cream.  I told him Half and Half wouldn’t work so well. “Why don’t we just go to the store and buy whipped cream?”  You wouldn’t believe his excitement.

“Are you serious?”

We got in the car and headed to the market.  Yes, this is me being a “bad mom,” letting go of the carefully guarded reigns so as to say fuck the boring routine and yes, to being a little careless.  That was until I stood in front of the dairy cooler, reviewing my choices- organic vs not organic; in the bad-for-the-earth can or homemade?  Oh!  It was so hard to choose. Yes, I did read the labels.  I could hardly bear to pass the organic options but the fact that organic was twice as expensive and my bank account was down pretty low helped!  We picked out ice cream too.  (Thank goodness for the sale of Three Twins!)  What’s more… I even bought the stupid “magic shell.”  Oh my goodness.  img_2249

“Ahh, mom, I just want to tell you, as long as you’re like this, I’m going to try to take advantage of you as much as possible.”  My honest son told me this while driving.  And so yea, in the store I was a bit of a softy.  Until he started hitting me up for cheese puffs. Militant Mom came out with a flat NO.  I wasn’t going to ruin our perfectly sweet Banana Split ‘dinner’with some other substitute for food!

This was me being a “bad mom”.  img_2248And do you know, when I got home, she had to skedaddle with a quickness when I found my teen daughter in tears.  I didn’t tell her I was taking our dog with us on the ride and she thought he’d gotten out and was maybe lost.  Mama resumed sweet mama role as best as can be- still a little child-like only wanting to crack into the ice cream but cracking down on myself to realize, this girl must be hungry.  I pulled some leftovers out of the fridge and heated them up.  “Eat.”

It was really interesting to be at the intersection of where I just let loose a little and letting loose meant veering off the normally very dedicated to the health of my body and the earth way.  And to then be fully in that mode of wanting to play into a sense of reckless abandon and to realize how quickly the calm and stability of your child requires you to not be reckless; where being a “bad mom” just won’t work because you’re relied upon.

This is exactly why the movie was so good.  The sort of reckless behaviors of the moms that were over the top were Disney-like.  Bad was so ridiculous.  And that’s why I laughed my ass off and it was exactly what I needed.  I posted on the completely unreliable stream of facebook news that I wanted to get a group together for Saturday night.  Lots of thumbs up but damn, no takers!  What?  Do I have that many friends with small children?  The answer is Yes.  On Saturday, I was only feeling a little better than I was on Friday night but something was loosening up and you better believe it helped when a dad friend said he was opening his house up for a slumber party on Saturday.  My children were IN!  And finally, I got word from one single friend, she would go!  Hallelujah!  Just what this sister needed.

Movie followed by hot tub.  Now, I really thought some freaky, shakin’ dat booty kind of dancing at the club was in order afterwards. weeds-1But it turned out that a tub under the light of the moon and some good girlfriend time was really the remedy for me. Thank goodness! Bad mom vibes all tempered and within reason… I’m not trying to be like Nancy Botwin.  But, I will tell you, while I liked the being naked in the hot tub in the middle of the night, I KNOW dancing would be the hit too.   The best part about the Bad Mom thing was that I was able to see my life had become a bit boring.  Truly, I’ve become old enough to appreciate boring, to recognize the peace and calm and reliability of boring, the restorative nature of boredom but I needed wild!  And not in the nature, walking pensively, kind of wild.

That said, if you’re reading this, I hope you’ll be inspired.  I am going to try harder this week and I’m going to do a repeat.  Instead of just posting a note with tendrils of hope, I’m sending out invitations.  I don’t get enough invitations and surely there are a few others out there like me. bad-moms-review-1471528077 I’m putting it out there to Mama friends and friends alike.
Because really, we all need each other from time to time to shake it up; to get a good laugh!
We need help getting past the funk and freeing ourselves up enough to return to that feeling of brilliance and light- where new possibilities exist and opportunities abound and hearts are soothed.


Thank you friends. In the world where you’re running for PTA President, I am all for the platform that says, “Let’s not judge.  Let’s do less and be more true to ourselves.”  I’d vote for you.  And if only money grew on trees, I’d be out to breakfast with you, loving the mimosas and living the dream.)  Sending big love for support in YOU!






So Many Children to Love

By the time I was 13, I had six little brothers and sisters.  I didn’t have enough time by myself and I certainly didn’t get the attention I wanted.  Attention from a parent or caring adult feels so good.  That is probably what got me hooked on cooking.  Once I began preparing dinners for my family I got a lot of attention and praise.  But I had to earn every bit of it- from menu planning to shopping to the pile of dishes leftover after dinner. I didn’t hit the books most nights until 9.  But it was okay because I liked helping my family.  Today, this feeling of service is still important to me.  So I volunteer and feel that as I go about doing Karma Yoga, I go about doing something right.

I was recently asked if I feel sad about not having any more children.  I’m not that old, I am still fertile, I could have more if I felt it was right but with my youngest half way to adulthood, I’m not confident that it would be the smart thing.  I had expected my work in caring for children would amount to more than it has.  Even after fostering younger siblings, it has truly been a little easier that I expected (knock on wood!) but I must have children in my life.  There are too many who simply need attention.


I’m reminded today of many of the sweet young people that were in my life when I worked last year and the year before as a Garden Teacher.  I have a few little books of very sweet cards and notes.  You can read  some of these darling messages here.  My heart is so touched as I think back to the memories we made together.  This school year, I went from outside work in the garden with children, to the inner work of yoga and stress reduction with young college-age adults.  It’s been a change.  I don’t have my Miss Moon hat on and while I miss it, I do love that I’ve been able to bring light to so many young adults.

A lot of times, I just want to make a good difference.  The phrase, “Be the change you want to see in the world” echoes in what I do.  I give my attention as generously as I can and since I only have two children of my own, I’ve got to be grateful for all of the families who’ve brought children in the world.  (To be sure, I remind all the children I”m with to be grateful back to their parents!)  Just little chances to love young people in need of another set of eyes and ears lifts my spirit and keeps me inspired and happy.

To all of the families who’ve entrusted me to be there for your child, thank you!  It truly fills my heart!  And there’s something in me that honestly needs it.



“The first thing we do in the garden is breathe.”  -Miss Moon

In humble gratitude, yours truly,

Miss Moon

A little Sparkle

There are so many ways to hold children.  What is the right way?  Is there one best way?  Is it the way you know best?  Is it in a way that is caring?  How caring do you need to be?  Is it in a way that sets clear boundaries?  Or a way that is generous? Is the best way by teaching? Maybe the best way is simply with love.  Everyone loves to be held in love!  But what does that really mean?

It’s funny that after escaping the work of being the big sister, after getting my children raised half way to adulthood, I still long for the companionship of children.  With the tenth-born child in my family finally having reached adulthood this first day of Spring, one might think I’m ready to retire from all things children related.  But in truth, it suits me to have a lot of brothers and sisters.  The responsibility was tough but the love was so amazing growing up.  It wasn’t easy by any means. but I feel lucky having watched so many babies get born.  Nursing was perfectly normal and as frequent as the diaper changes.  There was always a baby to hold and when I don’t have babies to hold, I miss them and their little amazing human bodies so eager and ready to learn!

There’s one event that made a strong imprint on me was when I was about 15-16 years old. I remember a day when I couldn’t hold it together a minute longer.  I was overwhelmed and when I went into my room, there was my fifth born sister.  Little as she was, she was holding the baby at the time, comforting him the best she could.  I started off talking to her and attempting to be the big sister and help her with the babe.  That was until I started crying.  Then, suddenly, I was in the embrace of that little sister’s arms.  It was tremendous to be held.  Best of all, I needed to be held and someone was there for me.  I could get wrapped up in how I “should’ve…’  but there was really nothing more to do than surrender.  I was deeply humbled to realize this little person was capable of so much.

Mostly, what happened in that moment was that I was loved and accepted.  When it comes down to it, that’s often times what we all crave- love and acceptance.  But there’s another ingredient here too, an ingredient that I received that day when my tears came streaming, an ingredient I am aware of when I teach.  And that’s presence.  If ever a parent is amazed by the good time a child has with me, it’s only because I didn’t have the typical parental distractions of dishes, diapers, and laundry!  I really grasped this was one of my gifts when I worked at Laguna Farms in the days of Earth Camp.  The team I worked with NEVER looked at cell phones.  We just watched studiously how the children worked with so much determination to catch crawdad’s. We laughed and smiled at the layers coming off.  We held their hands.  We communicated to give them guidance and we marveled at the enthusiasm.

Since I’ve made it my work to work with children through summer programs and non-traditional settings, I have to ask myself what makes me unique.  I have to wonder what words I’m going to use to describe myself, my camp, my services (and there are so many)! Turns out, I use a lot of words and I can’t settle very well on just a few.  I like stories. Mostly because they work well to convey feelings.  Caroline Casey describes herself as a weaver of context and that is something I really get.  When storytelling, I’m aware that with the wrong frame, anything can look bad. With the right frame, anything can sparkle. So… when it comes to Earth Girls and Earth Warriors, what you can expect from me is that I’m going to hold the children in my group- with love, acceptance and presence.  I’ll be weaving stories for the sake of wonder, pushing open the windows of the imagination. prompting critical thinking, and I’ll aim to help all those with me to sparkle and shine.

(And yes, Mama Bear will be watching out to keep everyone safe!)




Happy Season of Spring!

Happy Season of Spring!
In this time of Renewal, we think of our Wish Birds. Wishing with the help of a bird is like the lifting of prayers on wings. Why not try closing your eyes and forming a real bird in your mind?
What you’ve begun to imagine, is the start of a Guided Meditation.  (One of my favorite things to do is intuitively led Guided Meditations.)
I love doing work with young people and am already excited for the meditations, the yoga, the chi gung and the internal as well as external challenges children will face as they look within themselves.  The practice of healing arts is not easy for all adults so I don’t expect it to be easy for children, but I do anticipate the process to be good.  At the least of what we do will be bowing and so from this little, we welcome all the good beyond.   The best thing about chi gung is that it is a healing art as much as it is a self-defense technique.  Yoga strengthens and increases flexibility and connects you to prana/chi/life force.  Breathing and meditation are tools we know or hear about, and now, if you’ve ever wondered when you can practice, this is it.
Earth Girls and Earth Warriors
Empowerments Camps are running this summer.
6 sessions total.  Starting June 13-17 and through July.
Camps available for parents too.  Stay abreast of events on my Earth Girls Empowerment Camp fb page!  

A Message of Tolerance and Diversity Wrapped in a Rainbow of Love

For what its worth, I want to tell you the story of how my heart was deeply touched this past week, and it happened in a most unexpected way.

Pepsi Super Bowl 50 Halftime Show

SANTA CLARA, CA – FEBRUARY 07: Chris Martin of Coldplay performs during the Pepsi Super Bowl 50 Halftime Show at Levi’s Stadium on February 7, 2016 in Santa Clara, California. (Photo by Sean M. Haffey/Getty Images)

Now the backstory goes like this- I set February 7 as the date to celebrate the Chinese New Year with some friends.  The second New Moon of Winter lends a vital quality of energy to the season, like the Earth Mother herself taking off her cloak only to find flowers starting to bloom.  I pay no attention to football so I discovered later my party coincided with the Superbowl.  For years, the only reason I might glimpse the game is to see the Halftime show, curious about the participating artists and what matter of messages they may have.

It was Monday morning when I realized I could google the show and so I did.  First, a crowd of faces running across the field as Chris Martin sang from on one knee.  He runs onto the stage and the violins start playing.  Everywhere there is band equipment, there are flowers. That means florists procured grown flowers and then took laborious steps to tie them here, there and everywhere.  It was this attention to detail that had me crying for some reason I could not quite understand.  My heart was swept into a wave a tenderness seeing all of the audience in participation.  A rainbow lit up bright from the crowd, 360 degrees throughout the stadium.

The violins were rainbow, the drums were rainbow.  The man in the audience with a rainbow hanky sensually carresses our lead singer and each close up moment with the audience raises the energy.  The Marching band takes to the field and soon performers are dancing flowers to form mandala designs.  Garnet_Season15

The Superbowl 50 Halftime Show invites you to open your mind. Whatever prejudice may linger in a person from God knows where, we’re called to feel the funk and give consideration to the creativity of people, unity in action and especially the incredible power of black women.  I’ll tell you, I thought they could’ve just stood there and by themselves, bodies speaking so loudly without words, so powerfully, just as provacative human beings.  For anyone whose child has discovered Steven Universe, you’ll understand me when  say that seeing Beyonce “in formation,” immediately made me think of Garnet who rocks a similar figure with her big ol’ hips, her undeniable power, thighs that mean business.  I see every female there and I am just hoping that each black female performing artist recieved a sizable paycheck because as far as I can tell, looking around this American culture, there are too many odds set against black women and money headed into the hands of the 30 dancers and the musicians marching is about the best way we could hope Pepsi to spend some of its budget.

The three leading artists of the Superbowl 50 mash it up, Beyonce and Bruno Mars meeting in a competitive play where luckily for Bruno, Beyonce didn’t step on him!  Coldplay comes back in and piano keys take us into a chorus of, “We’re going to get it, get it together somehow.”  If you haven’t watched the video, tell me at this point in the show, can you imagine being there?  I can and I’ll tell you what, I couldn’t stop the tears from streaming down my face.  I was feeling with gratitude a love and pride for having been raised in the Bay Area. I felt awe for the Creative Directors, the choreographers, the special effects but most especially so proud that just down the way, in the south bay, my neighbors danced and sang together with a message of love.  Was there not diversity?  The stage was filled with people of mixed races and the camera pans out sending a rainbow message out to the world…

“Believe in LOVE.”

Musicians, especially vocalists know of the secret sound, you know the one made of up silence after the song has stopped.  When the music ends and the audience is cheering, the secret sound plays on.  The vibration is being carried out and ringing across the land.  I suspect that when I watched this video and began to cry, I was then attuned to the sound waves penetrating the Universe.  For all of time, that song, that energy, that message will be playing, will be spanning out across the Universe and I for one, am proud this day to be a Californian-American.  Thank God for all people.  I’m amazed that I can rejoice within a sense of “belonging” to the community that put on this best ever halftime show; love from a community full of gay pride on the outside and determined female black power held within the core of the show.  When it was decided that the bowl would take place in the San Francisco Bay Area, the artists who conceived of sending a message of love and inclusivity were artists bringing the most meaningful message they could to all the audience in the world around.  To them, I extend my deep thanks and tribute for a work of art well done!  If ever there was a reason for fireworks, this was it.

In honor of the City of Santa Clara hosting a memorable and meaningful Halftime Show, consider the last words of Saint Clare of Assisi, “Blessed be You, O God, for having created me.”



Multi-Dimensional Woman Dancing; alone, seen and unseen

The content for this story started brewing last night as these dances took place.  It was a funny sort of thing, how it all happened, so I hope you’ll stay with me and be entertained by this story.

I was invited by a dear girlfriend from college to participate in a study of dancing through it all.  In her poetic voice she reminds her friends and readers, we’re always in the dance.   Her dances have been honest and not especially exciting as she bows in front of her altar accepting that tired mama is her dance.  No super hero showing off.  Just real, this is what’s in me now.  How she gets her camera set up for these honest moments and then posts them I don’t know.  I’m a different sort.

After I got tagged by surprise I didn’t engage immediately in the game.  I felt pensive and had to decide if I actually wanted to play.  A few days went by and as I sat listening to a song in my car before going inside, I realized, I could set up the camera here and now!  So I did.  Nothing special, nothing fancy.  Honest but a little playful.  I wasn’t doing this alone, I was doing this in front of the camera.  With the assumption I would be seen, I played almost interactively with my audience.  At least as interactively as I could in a non-live recording.  Because of the camera, I assume I have an audience, even if that audience is only one.  IMG_20160112_1121156_rewind[1]

Once my recording was done, I had to 1- laugh at the fun I was having and 2- watch it to see if it was even mildly interesting.  Then, I had another go at it.  For whatever the reason, I can’t just do one dance, one recording and one upload and call it done.  I go back to the drawing board.  I see myself in this process and now here’s the added bonus- I’m learning about myself. Ahh, to gain self-awareness, what a glorious gift!

As I record and watch and record again, I am assessing my work, I’m scrutinizing what I see.  I’m looking for imperfections, sloppiness, wondering what I might do to improve my performance.  I’m not a trained dancer so I don’t have the highest standards and the harshest criticisms but I do have my own critique and I think that’s fair.  I don’t mind getting it or giving it.  What I do want is something that doesn’t take too long.  I don’t want my audience getting bored.  I don’t want to waste their time because it is a precious commodity and all too often we get our time sucked, especially when we go traveling into the “virtual world”.

Whatever I put out should have some substance, at the least, humor. My Chill Dance in the Car series was funny to me. I was happy to be breaking the ice and I was happy.  I figure if it made me smile and giggle, there’s a least one other person on the planet who might smile with me.  After watching my recordings, the funniest thing was how hard I found it to choose what to produce.  That’s why I created the series.  I liked all of my recordings for different reasons.  As it was, I didn’t publish every recording.  I wanted to be considerate of time.

A day or two later I made up a couple of dances.  Once I had the space and camera set up, I figured why not save myself some effort.  I mean, I can dance every day.  In one way or another, I often shake it because my heart is the kind of heart that needs to do a dance in whatever big or little way I can.  So I put them out on the fb screen, tag a couple of friends, get a few likes and then that’s when the comparing begins. {yikes} I have 3 likes, she has 141 views!  How is this happening?  I want more views.

It took me awhile but I figured it out- she has her facebook set on public. The more I looked the more I realized how many people share their posts with the public.  Whoa.  Big realization for me!  Even with my friends, I find myself very reluctant to share and what and how… well, I become so discriminating it could drive a horse to run away wild leaving your ass down by the river.

But I’ll tell you what, if I was abandoned down by the river, I don’t think I’d tell you the day it happened.  I wouldn’t want anyone to know I lost my horse!  You wouldn’t see a sad selfie of me with the river in the background; I wouldn’t have a hashtag for my #runawayhorse.  I would however have some stories to tell in real life.  In particular, after the horse reappeared, I’d be on my way to teach and I’d weave my present moment learning into my teaching, for inspiration and to inspire.

As there is no horse, no river and only mental comparisons, with a little detective work I figured out, if I want a larger audience I can have it.  I just need to go public.  What a big deal that is.  Anxiety, let me tell you! Because I do value privacy!  And I grew up in that generation just old enough to be like my elders when it comes to this matter.

Maybe it’s better that my kind of sexy dance didn’t get many views. Too bad for those who missed it.  Did I need an audience to see me in my red slip?  To see me bopping to the Marvin Gaye/Yasiin Bey (Mos Def)  mash up?   I guess the verdict isn’t clear because I could always decide to change my settings or when and where to make that recording view-able.

When the weekend came there were plenty of things going on around me so much so that thinking to set up a camera for a dance just fell to the w
ayside.  Simply, I didn’t need to record a dance.  Does that mean I did not dance?  No, it does not.  I did dance and I did in fact try to capture a mini dance party moment.  But my friend with the camera didn’t record!

So, it goes that as the end of Monday came around and I thought about my dance or lack there of.  I thought about how I hadn’t shown the world any inspiration.  I also thought about how I might #inspirejoy.  It was late at night and I was on my way home from my Feldenkrais study group.  I had an idea for a park where there was some good lighting, maybe the potential for some cool looking silhouette.  Then, going down the street I realized this wall of art.  Light cast its beauty in changing colors on this blank slate of a wall.  I liked it. I pulled my car over, I picked up my camera and I started wondering about where to set up my camera.  What camera angle would be available to me?  When I was settled on the location, then I just needed to grab the strange props available to me in my car.  A paper cup, a beanie. Balance the camera, reverse the screen, and make some small adjustments.  And what for music?  I rummaged through a few of the mixed cd’s I have and the first song I settled on is the first song I played for the camera.  This is usually the best way.

Like I said, I record, review, re-record, try again.  All in all, the first take was my favorite and the second take is not bad so following the advice of my artist-juggler-poet friend, I am sharing both.

What does your dance look like?  If you choose to play, I encourage you to enjoy the process.  Let it be a chance to better know yourself and find out a little bit more about the stuff you’re made of.

The game goes like this:

A new year, a new dance.
What does your dance look like today?

I nominate YOU to post ‪#‎adanceaday‬ in 2016!
Anything goes.

Just nominate ten of your friends to do so in your post. And, use these three hashtags, too.  #prescriptionforourplanet #inspirejoy #adanceaday



Showing Up

What is showing up really about?  Does it involve being on time?  Having the time?  Making the time?  Dwelling between time and space?  Does it involve your appearance?  A costume?  A persona?  Presentation?  Is it now or later?  Was that what happened yesterday?

Admittedly, there are sometimes when we show up more than other times.  In my assessment, I’d say if we’re distracted with pain, survival, problems, drama, story, or trauma, it’s hell of hard to show up.  And in all fairness, I will adjust my expectation of those going through their hard times.  This is real.  I don’t need to be attached or hell bent on having something one way when compassion may be the thing that’s called for. I’m not sure if there’s such thing as having too much compassion but I do have an area in my life that I’m looking at, where I have to be careful not to be too flexible, lest I give into my co-dependent ways (at least I think that’s what I think they might be).

One of things that I really like is showing up in the same proportion as someone else.  Have you noticed that happen?  Maybe it’s at an event, maybe it’s just as simple as going through the bank or the market.  I think this ability to show up with mutual interest in a person has everything to do with a substantial start to a good relationship.  If one person isn’t so sure and that is apparent, there is a lot of room for doubt.  Then what? What’s possible?  Showing up makes a difference.  At least that’s how I sense it.

I recently showed up with a lot of enthusiasm somewhere to where there were saw raw edges in another person.  He spoke his truth honestly, said he was feeling grouchy and I carried on in my animation.  I don’t know how it was on his end to feel me but it really wasn’t my business to ask so I carried on.

Then there are those places where I don’t really want to show up, where I get lazy.  That actually includes the kitchen on some occasions, even if I do love to cook.  When I don’t want to show up I know because I sort of fall asleep to that part of the world.  We can avoid things and deny them and let them fall to the wayside.  Maybe not the most productive of all choices but it’s usually only a partial choice and partial subconscious, not quite yet awake to the fact of life.

So, we’ve got showing up, in proportion to another for a successful relationship, showing up a lot, showing up grouchy, showing up tired, in denial of showing up, and what else? How about when you’re just not able?  I’ll tell you, if my trust has been broken that is one thing that’ll make it hell of hard on me to show up.  I really won’t want to.  Why?  I guess it has to do with having no motivation to put myself in the same playing field as one who has crossed me.

But overall, showing up to me has to do with being attentive, having the attention span to be in the moment and to not make something out to be bigger or different than it is.  I like to be present and in order to be present, there are certain prerequisites that I feel I must have in place. This is certainly not a rule but in order to be present, I’m usually inspired, in my heart, breathing consciously or having taken the time to just breathe.  And I’m rested.  That’s why having a practice is an amazing gift we can give ourselves.  If we sit down to meditate or get up to take that walk or we lay on the floor for a few stretches, we enter into that special lull of space where we are able to both give and receive the pleasure of being present.  This is what showing up is about.

Showing up for ourselves might be foreign.  Cultural and familial influences abound!  But think about it, how do you show up for yourself? In what way can you call on yourself to be there for yourself?  Is it a practice or can you call it a practice?  Whether is has to do with your art, your music, your dance, or anything else, bringing your body and mind into oneness to be with yourself or another matters.  Showing up makes a difference and it’s worthwhile.