hi Brooke,. thank you for this newsletter, I'm moved by your words and framing about what liberation can be. One practice that I've been doing lately is saying "I'm listening" over and over as a prayer. It feels like the conduit for heartbreak to arrive in my body, a message to the ancestors past, present and future that I am opening myself up to be guided, moved and instructed. And even on a more basic level, it is a reminder to myself that my listening shapes what I can imagine being possible. It's a simple but potent practice that is anchoring me to both hope and heartbreak right now.
Thank you Sophie, this is a lovely share. Even though the words are different, your prayer reminds me of one I've been using from Pema Chodron's "The Places That Scare You". For the reader encountering pain she says, "stay." Simply, and with a bit of warmth, "stay." Sometimes I have to say it a few times, as parts of me want to squirm away from what hurts. Your prayer has a similar quality of letting *in*
hi Brooke,. thank you for this newsletter, I'm moved by your words and framing about what liberation can be. One practice that I've been doing lately is saying "I'm listening" over and over as a prayer. It feels like the conduit for heartbreak to arrive in my body, a message to the ancestors past, present and future that I am opening myself up to be guided, moved and instructed. And even on a more basic level, it is a reminder to myself that my listening shapes what I can imagine being possible. It's a simple but potent practice that is anchoring me to both hope and heartbreak right now.
Thank you Sophie, this is a lovely share. Even though the words are different, your prayer reminds me of one I've been using from Pema Chodron's "The Places That Scare You". For the reader encountering pain she says, "stay." Simply, and with a bit of warmth, "stay." Sometimes I have to say it a few times, as parts of me want to squirm away from what hurts. Your prayer has a similar quality of letting *in*