photo, mine

The little elephant rested easily in the palm of her hand. She wasn’t sure when that happened, but it must have been a long, long time ago.

Collected by her Godmother, the little guy had been part of a herd of various (much larger) creatures, including a ceramic tortoise from Florence, a purple cow whose origins had always been a mystery, and a larger elephant with a raised trunk and trappings from the Raj. Majestic, that one. And the attitude!

His rhyme went, “I haven’t time to trumpet, I have to go and dump it.” Hmm. She wondered if the…

Photo by Kelly Sikkema on Unsplash

the end of that line has changed

For the Catholic raised, influenced, inspired, or infused, the end of the titular expression has been, HIStorically, “I have sinned.” I never bought in, but the expression was surely engraved on my heart, somehow and somewhen.

I countered this litany, for years, with “Bless YOU, Mother, for we are all your children.” It worked… for the most part. It worked for my mind, and my emotions. It worked in the form of an affirmation. It became part of my physical-mental-emotional-spiritual awareness. But our bodies remember and retain what has been etched into cellular structure.

And then, it happened. Unbidden, the…

Prompt: Loss

Photo by S O C I A L . C U T on Unsplash

For decades I’ve been asking my father to write his stories

There have been so many. As a child, I loved the moments of his return. Not only for his presence, but for the gifts of magical moments, and sometimes souvenirs, that returned with him.

Now that he has time to write, physical limitations have taken the fun out of the task. He yearns for the days of speaking into a Dictaphone and having a transcription land on his desk for review. I wonder, sometimes, if his former secretary feels the same. At least she heard the stories first!

I remember waking early, on mornings after his arrival. Creeping into the…

A position no yogini ever recommends

Photo by Krzysztof Niewolny on Unsplash

I should have known when he answered the phone “Hello daughter,” in that maestro-level surly voice he uses when the uglies have hit the fan and his manners have hit the wall. Oh dear. I’m so glad I called.

“It’s like hiking knee deep through a blizzard. There’s just so much stuff!” my father lamented. To be fair, the thermometer read a few degrees over 100 Fahrenheit, probably in the living room. He was stripped down, sorting through decades of living, refusing to work or sleep in one of the rooms that has AC…

A Tale of Love and Learning

Photo by Jeremy Zero on Unsplash

Once upon a time, in ancient Egypt, there lived a very devout and dedicated Seeker of Truth. He yearned for the embodiment of divine Love and Joy. Year after year he presented himself at the temple doors of Hathor, seeking to learn Her mysteries. Year after he was denied entrance to the realms of the Heart.

With each attempt the guardians said, “Enter first the Underworld, and balance your way forward.” And, though he respected the voices of those he encountered at the temple doors, his will was to fly high and fast and reach the pinnacles of wisdom. …

Simple Pleasures, Shared

Photo by Morgan Von Gunten on Unsplash

Life on the Gulf coast. Daily wind checks to determine morning walk-ability, workouts in the little pool interspersed with dips in the sea, and the endless photo ops of the play of light and water.

An odd birthday realization.

Photo by Vika Strawberrika on Unsplash

On the day of my birth, 65 years ago, those present were my mother, obviously, mini-me, my mother’s Teacher, and my godfather. Of those present, I remain embodied. How strange. Life, of course, and yet I recall that experience and the signature frequencies of those people as clearly as today, maybe more so as all days seem to blend together lately.

I remember being born into this body. I’m told most people don’t. I can’t relate. Never could. I’ve stopped apologizing for that. It just is.

Funny, I just read Stephanie Meyers’ book, The Host, and related so much with…

Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash

Tapping the Womb of Cosmic Creation

Every culture has its traditions around the Solstice window. For a powerful opening like this one, the window begins approximately a week prior and closes approximately a week afterwards. So, we are ‘in it’ at the moment.

I am loving these energies. As strong as they are, and as much as they are pushing out of us all, the light beneath the waves is the birthing water for what we will become. And, that is up to each of us. We are the keys to many realities.

The weather dakinis are whipping up a storm just now. The maple tree…

Prompt: Daily Strategies

Photo by Andy Køgl on Unsplash

When old ways disappear

I had been practicing meditation, mindfulness and movement for decades when I received a hardware re-set that turned everything I had studied and learned inside out. The changes I had made in body life and mind, set the stage, and, were nothing compared to the physical re-boot of what I thought I had been practicing.

I thought I was simply de-hydrated and weary, but as my left side went slack and ceased to function, and I heard my roommate frantically dialing ‘911’ I realized something else was happening. Something was wrong. What could be wrong? …

Nalini MacNab

I live, learn, write, create and share the experience of embodying HER Infinite Love.

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