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shutterstock 198405680 Karin
I hate waiting. I also hate to admit it. Despite years of meditating and attempting to live in the moment, despite my best efforts to be countercultural in the face of a “hurry” society, I have become a product of our instant gratification culture. Right now, it feels like I am about to die from waiting. I’m waiting for the seeds in my back yard and on my window sill to sprout into the gorgeous array of colors, textures and fragrances I have planned for my first-ever flower garden. Forces outside my control seem to be plotting against me. I have replanted the seeds three times now, both inside and out. The neighborhood cat scratched up the bachelor button starts while leaving a gift I neither needed nor appreciated. Birds plucked up the Chianti sunflower seedlings. Rambunctious boys playing a game involving soccer balls and scooters decimated my calla lilies. I...
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shameless2
I choked the other day. Not literally on food. I choked on my words. They were on the tip of my tongue, mostly formed. But they sounded so self-promoting that I couldn’t get them out. I had given a free Healing Touch session to the receptionist at the integrative health center where I have my practice. This receptionist doesn’t work for me, but she sits at the front desk three days a week, greeting everyone who comes through the door. My intention in giving the free session wasn’t altruistic. My intention was that she understand what I offer so that if ever the topic came up in conversation with clients of the center, she could point to my business cards and with authority tell the person how fabulous my work is. That’s great marketing, building up your referral base. However, I’m not sure the receptionist was even aware of the partner-in-crime...
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