Humming in Tune with the Universe

a night sky- mountains in the far distance with an orange sky that fades into deep blue. In the sky are dashed circles of light.

Dear friends,

People often say about Louisville weather that if you don't like it, just wait a few minutes and it will change. This is also true of our internal weather patterns, emotions moving through like clouds, storms, wind, sunshine, and rainbows. I am happy to report that my internal weather has gotten much sunnier since I last wrote. But I don't want to focus on that so much today. 

Today is the United States' Independence Day, a day to commemorate the signing of the Declaration of Independence. Often on this day my reflections take me to interdependence and interconnection more than independence. This year is no different and I've been particularly inspired by an article recently published in The Atlantic. It seems that scientists have found ripples in space and time. Not being a scientist I don't feel equipped to explain this (check out the linked article above to learn more), but I do want to share some of the beautiful ways Adam Frank describes this: 

The whole universe is humming. Actually, the whole universe is Mongolian throat singing. Every star, every planet, every continent, every building, every person is vibrating along to the slow cosmic beat.

Putting all [their research] together, the NANOGrav (North American Nanohertz Observatory for Gravitational Waves) scientists could see that these ripples were not from one discrete source but from a din, a hum, the overlapping echoes of disturbances scattered across the universe.

Every gravitational wave in that background the NANOGrav team found is humming through the very constitution of the space you inhabit right now. Every proton and neutron in every atom from the tip of your toes to the top of your head is shifting, shuttling, and vibrating in a collective purr within which the entire history of the universe is implicated. And if you put your hand down on a chair or table or anything else nearby, that object, too, is dancing that slow waltz.

...moments like these can and should change how each of us sees our world. All of a sudden, we know that we are humming in tune with the entire universe, that each of us contains the signature of everything that has ever been. It’s all within us, around us, pushing us to and fro as we hurtle through the cosmos.

The universe is an impossibly vast symphony of cause and effect. The endless comings and goings of galaxies, stars, and planets create a melding of songs that you are part of too. The NANOGrav discovery exposes the intricacy and gracefulness of that melding. It’s a reminder that the world always has been, and always will be, worthy of wonder. But of course, you already knew that. You always have.

I think about the dance between the individual expression of each of us and the fact that our individual expressions, our energies, are literally and intimately intertwined with ALL. Can I claim independence? Do I even want to? I think not. 

What about the United States' independence? I'm not sure we can claim that either. Certainly the U.S. has a unique identity within the global context, an instrument in the world's symphony, and I believe there is value in recognizing that. I love my country, even with all its complexities and ways we aren't yet living up to the aspirations we name. But in an ever-globalized world, this country's bonds to other countries; our people's ties with other peoples; this land's, waters', plants', animals', weather's connection to other lands, waters, plants, animals, and weather are becoming more and more obviously woven together in ways that both heal and harm. Sometimes we hum in tune; sometimes there is dissonance. 
  
Does that mean we shouldn't celebrate this day? I'm not saying that. There is value in humming in tune with our loved ones as we commemorate significant events. AND on other days let us also make space to tend to the dissonance, to the people and places within our country that aren't held in wonder and care, to the people and places outside our country that aren't held with curiosity and conscious connection. 

Where and how do you notice the hum of the universe?

Where do you notice dissonance? 

~~~
Our energies are ever intermingling. If you want to consciously participate in a Louisville-focused hum, I hope you'll join me in the Resonant Peaceful Cities Project from July 22 to July 30. Hart Communication is one of the community partners. This is the second year Louisville is taking part in a study testing whether synchronized meditation has a measurable effect on a city's crime rate. Last year Louisville showed a 13% reduction in crime during the meditation week. Isn't that incredible? It is free to participate in this project and we are hoping to have robust participation in the study. Click on the link above or check out the graphic in the events below and share with others! You can also join us for a Kickoff event on July 19!

Speaking of free, I am also excited to have added a number of short Reframe documents on my Buy Me a Coffee page; 5 of the 6 are free (the sixth is $2). Topics include: Reframing Deserving; Reframing Needs and Strategies; Reframing Finitude, Scarcity, and Abudance; Reframing Self-talk, and more. If these topics interest you, I'd love for you to claim them, as I hope they add notes of harmony in you and in the greater universal hum. 

I hope you are relishing this day in whatever way you spend it. 

With love, 
Cory

Meandering Solstice Musings

Against a sky with a city scape at the bottom, a dark hand creates a circle with forefinger and thumb. Through the circle the sun shines.

Dear friends,

Today is the Summer Solstice, the longest day of the year. I will be savoring the day with a dear college friend and her family as they pass through town. I'll soak in the long light of the day and the light of decades of friendship. 

In my last message I wrote that May was a rollercoaster ride. June has taken me on as many ups and downs as May, maybe more. I've lost count. 

I am part of a Facebook group with people taking on 30-day practices. Continuing a practice I started informally in May, this month I decided to touch my bare feet to the earth every day. I haven't quite done it every day, but I've gotten close. I especially like doing it as I pick raspberries off of my bushes, sometimes just 2 sweet berries. I think I got about 10 yesterday. 

The practice of physical grounding has helped keep me steady during unsteady times. Mother Earth, solid beneath my feet, offers reassurance and solace. On Saturday I sang at the funeral of a friend - the father of good friends and grandfather to one of my godsons. As I prepared to sing, I took off my sandals. While my feet weren't directly touching the earth, I still felt steadier, more connected, more supported this way. I didn't put my sandals back on until after mass. I am grateful to belong to a church where no one blinks an eye at such things.

What do you do to ground?  

~~~

I continue to reflect on labor and birthing. I am still in the process of birthing something(s). It feels like I am stalled. I may only be able to explain this well afterwards. I have little understanding now. 

I am also being (re)birthed. A new realization has come in the process. The precursor to rebirth is death. Obvious, I know, but somehow I'd forgotten. Friends who have recently left the physical realm are reborn into the life of pure Spirit, pure Love, pure Light. I wonder what that's like. 

As I am being reborn while still embodied, I think I am experiencing death in increments. The details feel too tender to share except to say that I have made many plans and the Universe has had very different ones for me. (You know what they say: if you want to make God laugh, tell God your plans.) 

I have an open invitation to practice surrender. Sometimes I accept the invitation with grace, sometimes with tears, or groans of frustration (this is actually when I am resisting the invitation), or laughter. I trust that I will emerge from this process more wholly me, but whew, the decomposition before the recomposition is not the most fun. I am aware that in this time, I could use some support. If you have willingness and capacity to do so, I hope you'll consider my request below this note. 

And, friends, as I tell you how I am, I wonder, too, how you are. How are you experiencing life, death, birth/rebirth, or whatever is showing up for you these days? 

I'd love to know. 

With love, 
Cory


Requesting Support

Here's the short version of the story: Some of the work I had planned or thought I'd be doing this summer has fallen away. While my tolerance for instability is pretty high, I've pretty much reached my limit. I am in a place where I both want to contribute meaningfully to the world and I am also very tired. And so...

If you'd like to offer support, I just joined Buy Me a Coffee, a platform that makes it easy to support creators like me by contributing a few dollars, basically the price of a coffee, or my preferred coffeeshop beverage, a tea.

As I am getting started on this platform,
- if something I’ve written, shared, or created has spoken to you;
- if you want to invest in my ability to create in a way that is sustained and sustainable;
- and, most immediately, if you believe that supported rest (like PTO for salaried folks) is important;
I hope you’ll consider contributing $5 or more now or becoming a supporting member with a monthly or yearly contribution. 

Alternately, if you've been thinking about a Heart Portrait, Reading for Remembering, or with me, now would be an excellent time to schedule or to buy a gift certificate to use later.  

If you are not in a position to make a monitary contribution, I also gratefully welcome loving words of support.

Thank you in advance! 

Savoring... June Goodness

a bright red rose in full bloom

Dear friends,

And just like that, it's June! 

I have to say I'm grateful for a new month. May was a rollercoaster ride, with some bright spots and a lot of challenges. The laboring was long and I'm definitely still in it.

But it helps to go out to my wild and messy backyard to see a rose in bloom on the bush I thought had died (pictured above). Isn't she gorgeous? 

It helps to see my azaleas that I also thought had died holding on.

It helps to go out and pick a few raspberries and look with anticipation at the many yet to come.

It helps to go outside and have surprise encounters with creatures like yesterday when I met a shrew (I didn't even know it was a shrew until I did some research). According to some websites, I should consider the shrew a pest, but I couldn't help but be enchanted and fascinated by it.  

I realized a few days ago that I had loosened my hold on my word for 2023: SAVOR 

I want to reclaim this word. 

I started to do so at MYPATH over the weekend, savoring connection with Mother Earth, with other people, with myself. 

Savoring requires slowness and attention. I want to bring slowness and attention to everything I do. It is a practice, sometimes difficult in our fast-paced world. 

This month I have many events coming up spanning a wide spectrum of my work: offering Readings for Remembering, teaching Compassionate Communication, facilitating Seeking the Shalom of the City, vending at two markets. I am also returning to and expanding my Reiki offerings.

I hope that before, during, and after each of these, I will move at the speed of a human, cultivating slowness, attention, connection. Savoring...

This month I hope to sink into all parts of my life: seeing a dear high school friend, going to the zoo, watching a women's soccer game, going to a housewarming party, dancing, retreating with members of my church community, walking/hiking/running with friends, and hopefully communing more with flowers, creatures, ALL.  Savoring...

What are you savoring as we move into the long days of summer?

I'd love to know. 

With wonder, 
Cory