It’s been pretty quiet around this blog lately, and it will continue to be quiet for another couple of weeks. There is much, however, going on beneath the surface.

My soul sister Nora Cedarwind has surprised us all with her resiliency and courage in the face of a terminal illness. She has hundreds of people sending love and healing vibes her way, and with my inner eye I see a golden net of love and caring that is holding her up. When she left the hospital on Spring Equinox, she was given 10 days to live. Now it is nearly Summer Solstice, one full quarter turn of the Wheel. She is holding her own. We have learned to embrace uncertainty. And each day, always, is a gift.

Over the last few months, I’ve put the bulk of my business on hold so I can spend as much time with her as I can. Now I find myself picking up the threads of my business life once again.

We have no way of knowing when we might reach a crisis stage again with Nora. The doctors have not been correct in their predictions. The cards are mute. We embrace uncertainty. 

Part of the gift of these last few months with her is that I have slowed way, way down. Nothing has been as important as taking my siren sister to the water’s edge, or sitting in the sun, or listening to her as she processes her journey, or turning over the cards for her. I’ve been living on slow time, in a way I haven’t done for many years. It feels good. I don’t want to give this sense of spaciousness up!

So my task now is to master a way of keeping that spacious sense of rest in my life, while attending to deadlines and being productive. I’ll let you know when I have it figured out! (I’m sure my Business Deva will have a few wise words to say about it.)

Slowly, behind the scenes, I’ve been working on a revisioning of my online presence — my “brand,” some would say — and a complete overhaul of this site, Gaian Soul. I hope to launch the new site in a week or two. (See? No firm deadline to make me crazy!)

I have felt “betwixt and between” for a long time — the Gaian Tarot is no longer the guiding light of my life (neither creating it, teaching it, or promoting it). Yet it is still an intrinsic part of who I am, and what I have to offer the world.

But it’s not all that I am, and not all that I have to offer. The new site will reflect a more authentic me, the me that I am in 2013. I hope you will like it!

I will be taking the current Gaian Soul site down sometime this coming week. It will reappear in its new incarnation just as soon as I polish and shine it all up!

Meanwhile, you can hang out with me on Facebook, where I’m very active. (I am also loving Instagram these days!)

For those of you who subscribe to this blog by email or RSS . . .

Some of you subscribe to this blog in a RSS feed reader or by email (as well as to my newsletter, which is different) — thank you!  If you subscribe to this blog via email, I will be sending you a new link to use soon.

If you’ve been using Google Reader as your RSS reader, you should know that its days are numbered. Google Reader will be gone in just three weeks. So you will need to choose a new reader. I’ve already switched over to Bloglovin’, and find it much easier and more delightful to use than Google Reader ever was. (One caveat: the Tech Goddess Shari Smith tells me that you should not read private blog posts on Bloglovin’, as it makes them public. So if you belong to the Gaian Tarot Circle, for example, and have been reading the posts in your feed reader, you will not want to use Bloglovin’.)

It’s very easy to import your Google Reader feed into Bloglovin’.  First, set up an account with Bloglovin’.  Then click here:

http://www.bloglovin.com/import/reader

And click on the big blue button that says “Import from Google Reader.”

It’s that easy.

I’ll see you on the new site, all shiny and new, in a couple of weeks!

I’m home from a week in Maine visiting my son, daughter-in-law and granddaughter Gracie, age 5. It’s been a whole year since I last saw her in person. We Skype regulary, and we keep an art journal that we mail back and forth to each other, but nothing can take the place of being together in person. I have worried at times that she might grow up without really knowing me. I want her to know me. I’m quite different from her other grandmother, who lives a few hours away, and sees her much more often than I do. Children can never have too much love, and all her grandparents love her dearly. I just hope that she will love some of the things that I love — nature, art, the realm of the spirit.

I shouldn’t have worried. She was so excited about my visit, her preschool teacher said, that she spent the whole day before my arrival talking about it. Then, the next day, we were on our own, when Mommy and Daddy went off to work. I was pretty exhausted after 11 hours with her, but oh so happy. We had so much fun!

Maine was having a heat wave while I was there, with temps in the 80s and up to 94F one day. We went swimming in local lakes, and I taught her how to slap her mermaid tail on the water, which she thought was great fun.

We went for nature walks and gathered leaves, sticks, seedpods, and stones. I showed her how to identify oak leaves and maple leaves, and how to twirl “helicopter” maple seedpods.

We read books, watched a couple of videos, and played games on the iPad. We made mudpies (aka “environmental art”), and she made up a song about how much she loves summer.

We made a lot of art while I was there, especially in “Grandma & Gracie’s Art Journal,” which is a sketchbook that we mail back and forth to each other. It’s a lot of fun to draw together. She wanted to draw the seasons, one per page. She drew some things and I drew others. She colored in some of the things I drew. I taught her how to layer colors to make new colors. She loved discovering all the different colors she could make by layering crayon colors on top of each other.

I taught her how to cloudgaze, and how to rub the leaves on herbs to release the scent.

We went on a photowalk, and I let her use my iPhone to take her own photos. She has a good eye! She especially liked taking pictures of trucks.

On Sunday, Gracie dressed up in a sparkly gold lion costume, and we all went to see her perform in her dance recital. (Picture 20 five-year-olds dancing to “I just can’t wait to be King!” from The Lion King. So cute.)

She taught me about staying in the moment, and how to fully inhabit and love your body.

On my last day there, I took Steve and Gracie out to lunch (her mom was at work). We played silly mimicking games while waiting for our food. When we were paying our check, the waitress came over and handed us a note that some folks in a nearby booth had asked her to deliver before they left. It read: “It makes my heart happy to see such an amazing gram! We miss my mom everyday. Thank you for the smile. Blessings to you all.”  I didn’t think I was doing anything so terribly unusual, but it was sure nice of them to write that note.

Grace and I really strengthened our relationship this visit, and that’s what I wanted. A 5-year-old is already her own person, with opinions and solid likes and dislikes. On the last morning I was there, she said “I’m not ready for you to leave, Grandma!” Nothing could have warmed my heart more than hearing that.

An autumn visit can’t come soon enough for me.

(Some of the photos in this post were taken by Gracie.)

Grief seems to be surrounding me like waves on a turbulent sea. Everywhere I turn, I hear another story of loss. Someone’s mother has died, another’s brother was just diagnosed with cancer. One friend has been grappling with infertility for years, and is trying not to give in to despair. Another is struggling with debt. Another is mourning the loss of her mate. Yet another is dealing with a recurrence of cancer that had gone into remission. My beloved friend Nora is weak but tenacious, savoring each day that she has left.

Now, more than ever, I turn to the things that bring me joy and peace. I light a candle each morning and murmur prayers for all those I remember and those I forget. I jot down gratitude lists. I write in my journal. I quiet myself. I press my cheek to Grandmother Cedar outside my back door. I follow the scent of salt water. I sketch and paint. I play with my website redesign. I meet a friend for coffee and writing at a favorite cafe. I go to yoga class. I walk. I try new foods. I shuffle the cards and throw the charms. I notice things. I inhale the fragrance of a luscious Northwest spring. I listen for stories. I wander beaches, collecting beach glass. Each piece is a gift from the Wild Mother Sea, all those sharp edges softened by the rough and rolling waves.

I walk in beauty, before me, behind me, above me, below me. Beauty all around me.

May you too walk in beauty, even in the midst of turbulent waves of grief.