Moving with wind, swaying with breeze, I gazed up at skies and trees. I danced. I danced my feet into the earth. My base claimed my space. My hips held me as I freed my heart and danced in the art of my garden. Birds’ songs danced along with my song as I whistled and worked in my garden. I ...
Congruent authenticity happens in the guts and bowels of your life. Being authentic is the grunt-work of the soul, of any deeply human, spiritual path. Being half here, half there, halfhearted, faking it to look good, strategizing to make things easier for your self — that’s the common way of ...