It’s been awhile since I’ve offered a spoken word meditation—to touch base with a calm that is always with us, but, at times, may be difficult to experience or remember.

I create these audios from my heart, in the hope that they may touch yours, or, at the very least, give you a moment of peace within the swirling bombardment of endless activities and emotions.

How you can support my work:

• Subscribe (it’s free)

• Hit the heart button below to show support

• Share this with a friend

• And, my favorite: Offer your wisdom and voice to this publication by leaving a comment!

Sending my love,

Renee

I would like to take a moment to offer a warm welcome to all of our new subscribers. There must have been a bit of magical pixie dust in the air, because in these last few weeks we have grown. How exciting! With more people intentionally holding a compass of compassion, the greater our ripple effect will be. And for anyone flinching at the word compassion, (I admit I do sometimes, because of its overuse and perversion in popular discourse) remind yourself compassion is not a saccharine emotion, but a basis of reality that is both powerful and healing.

Here at The Creator’s Compass, we dive into the spiritual and grapple with those big questions that follow us like shadows, and at times are ignored because they are often frightening. But by looking the dragon straight in the eye, we eventually behold wonder, and our fears slowly melt into peace and joy.

So, for this week I thought I’d offer a short practice in dancing with those pesky jagged bits of emotion that get trapped in our bodies and block our view of compassion. This is a very short guidance, and once the concept is understood, it can be practiced anytime during the day when you may need to pause and free yourself from a tangled web of emotion.

*If you are reading you may want to jump to 1:40 in the audio to listen instead of read the guided-word meditation.

The Practice

Inhale

Exhale all the stubborn bits of emotions that have gotten stuck inside your body

Let those jagged scratches of hard bits leave through the portal of your breath

Inhale

Exhale and tighten your stomach, so as to help completely empty your lungs and allow the bits of broken sorrows and shames, regrets, would-haves and should-haves leave your body.

Inhale

Exhale again, empty your lungs completely and send those jagged scratches onward, let them melt into the outside air, vanishing into the great expanse

Now soften your belly and throat

soften your eyes and your jaw

and inhale slow… slow… slow…, filling your body with a new freshness

It’s okay if fear tumbles in. Your body is simply unfamiliar with this new freshness, and newness brings excitement, and excitement feels the same to the body as fear.

Allow this excitement if it should visit

and soften more

Breathe in for 4 counts, gently hold the breath, Exhale for 8 counts

Breathe in for 4 counts, gently hold the breath, Exhale for 8 counts

Breathe in for 4 counts, gently hold the breath, Exhale for 8 counts

Allow your breathing to be natural

You are whole as you are

Your feelings and experiences are valid

Your heart beats with wisdom, can you hear?

Your heart beats with wisdom, can you hear?

Soften… soften… soften…

Sending everyone armfuls of light and love,

Renee

Not in the mood to listen or read? Maybe my recent watercolor painting will intuit what allowing time to unfold means to you.

A mother often laments that her baby is growing up, relinquishing the innocence of the first years.

An artist tenses up when realization that even the most beautiful of pieces cannot last forever, and never completely captured the magic of aliveness in the first place, but simply echoed it.

An Olympic gold medalist wonders why the medal ten years later can’t hold the moment in which it was placed around their neck.

For many, the day after Christmas brings with it a ghost of yesterday’s excitement hovering in the air. It is a bittersweet reminder nothing lasts, not even to those we so lovingly gifted presents.

We can not squeeze time to stop its unfolding.

There is no point in which we can grasp a moment. Trying to is akin to grasping sunlight—when your hand closes, the light disappears. When we allow time to unfold naturally, not grasping in a futile effort to make something stay still, do not we become not more peaceful, more calm?

The art of discovering how to allow the universe to unfold as it will is just that, an art. And art can be learned. We can teach ourselves to allow time in our experience to pulse and move, its winds lapping over each other. If we fine-tune our skill of allowing, we discover a strength. Not vying for power or status or happiness or away from happiness, we touch base to the magical flow of aliveness, an experience of joy in simply being alive.

Can we practice allowing the unfolding of the breath? Can we allow the unfolding of our thoughts? Are we capable of allowing the unfolding of our emotions, one at a time, as they bleed into one another?

How do realized yogis and yoginis of past and present discover this great Allowing? How do these people, no different from you or me, face reality as it is to come out on the other side, complete in peace and whole in wisdom?

After teaching for over two decades and drawing on my experience, I’ve observed that, when we taste the light of our worth, we nurture courage to Allow. We can begin that nurturing by starting with a physical calm. This is why practices such as Tai Chi and Yoga are so wonderful, as they usher us into a physical calm, and in the end, we learn Allowing.

Sending Light and Love,

Renee

You are stronger than you may think.

You have everything you need to live in your strength.

Everything you need rests in awareness.

Continue to watch, soften, and allow yourself to see.

Today’s spoken word meditation, as well as all previous meditations can be found in the header of The Creator’s Compass homepage for you to visit anytime you wish.

Sending light and love,

Renee

Leave a comment

When I catch myself caught in a whirlwind of emotion and thought, thought and emotion, I do not always apply the medicine. I admit, I can be lazy. Yet, how foolish to allow myself to be led by the wild, albeit creative, aspect of mind when sometimes all it takes is a few quick minutes of stopping, stilling the body, and anchoring the mind, either with breath or mantra, to quickly rediscover my peace.

For our recording this Sunday, I am applying a quote written by someone who many consider to be the father of modern yoga, Tirumalai Krishnamacharya. Tirumalai Krishnamacharya was born in 1888 and passed away in 1889, at the age of 101. He was a Vedic scholar and life-long practitioner of yoga, as was also known as a healer.

A great yogi, Krishnamacharya was a guru, with his most well known students influencing much of the yoga that we are familiar with in the West. You may know of Krishnamacharya’s students, which include his son Desikachar, Pattabhi Jois the founder of Asthanga yoga, BKS Iyengar, and Indra Devi.

As we practice with the short audio below, let us remind ourselves peace is always with us, though so often we do not feel its warmth. Because we do not create this peace, it is liberating to realize our work is to reveal what already exists within our awareness.

I invite you to join me for a brief practice found below.

“Inhale, and God approaches you.  Hold the inhalation, and God remains with you.  Exhale, and you approach God.  Hold the exhalation, and surrender to God.” 

I have created headers on my Substack home site in which you can easily revisit any article or practice. Revisit today’s practice as many times as needed. All these recordings are here for you, created to be a loving space to benefit your rediscovery of unshakable inner peace and joy.

I’d love for anyone who is comfortable to connect with me by leaving a comment or hitting the little heart below. I love getting to know my readers and listeners! It also helps me gauge what you may want in future publications.

Sending light and love,

Renee

I hope you are well within the swirls, dips, confusions, difficulties, and joys of these days we share. This meditation was created upon request. I hope it helps ease any anxiety you may have with sleep time. You can use it as an usher into sleep, or listen as a 15 minute break in the middle of the day to restore your energies.

(If you have a request for either a meditation or an essay, please share by commenting below or by hitting the reply button.)

Sending light and love,

Renee

*Music by NaturesEye

Find me on Instagram now! I’ve stepped into social media to help spread the light of The Creator’s Compass. I’m just a speck of sand in the ocean of social media, so come find me! Instagram for The Creator's Compass

If you are not yet a subscriber, I invite you to subscribe. All offerings are free and delivered to your inbox (or Substack app) each Sunday morning.

Subscribe now

Every share helps us grow to reach more people.

Share

If this publication spoke to you, you may want to hit the little heart at the bottom, and/or comment. Writers love to hear from readers!

Leave a comment

Get the app for a seamless listening experience. It’s free and you don’t have to rely on email to enjoy The Creator’s Compass!

Read The Creator's Compass in the Substack app

Available for iOS and Android

Get the app

Hello compass-holders!

I am sending each of you my love and prayers that you are well. Today’s practice was created to help us ground into our creativity by connecting to wonder—that experience of awe mingling with open curiosity, and maybe even surprise. I use the image of creativity as breath flowing through a flute. The idea is, if we are able to stabilize into an open-emptiness like the center of a bamboo flute, then we become the vessel through which the breath of creativity can manifest music.

I appreciate your beautiful intention for creating with a compass of compassion, both for your own fulfillment, and to be a light to others. Your creative ripples go far beyond what you can perceive. Be proud and confident that you and your creations matter.

Sending love and light,

Renee

If you are not yet a subscriber, I invite you to subscribe. All offerings are free and delivered to your inbox (or Substack app) each Sunday morning.

Subscribe now

Every share helps us grow to reach more people.

Share

If this meditation spoke to you, you may want to hit the little heart at the bottom, and/or comment. Writers love to hear from readers!

Leave a comment

Read The Creator's Compass in the Substack app

Available for iOS and Android

Get the app

The Creator’s Compass is supported by readers/listeners. If you would like to support this publication, subscribe for free. I would be honored to have you join our tribe of compass-holders!

Subscribe now

I hope this Care-note finds you well within the swirls, bumps, challenges, and beauties of this life we share. The audio for today is a short spoken-word meditation to help us fall into a tender rest. Below is a little update from the place I call home—my tiny nook I borrow from earth to create, connect, and rest.

Creating these offerings is a strange thing, in that I birth them to send off into a void of cyberspace. After years of teaching in-person, this absence of reading what you may need is odd territory indeed. However, I’m immensely enjoying the new terrain.

This past week I struggled with malaise. This type of unease visits us occasionally, and often wears a crown of sadness. But malaise also offers a gift of sorts. She does so by slowing us down, giving us an opportunity to create and discover things otherwise hidden from non-stop doing this or doing that, running from one task to another in frantic swirls. She is the relief of an exhale from a prolonged inhale.

As I age, I become more skilled at knowing how to dance with malaise—to sit with the fear of her, so I can accept the pause she offers. For me, art is the way I subdue the fear of malaise and transform her into something healthy and life-affirming. This is a dance of active self-compassion. It teaches me how to allow what is, and to discover how to pivot with what is. And if I dance skillfully, there is an unveiling of a blessing. Sometimes I dance well, other times I trip and fall a hundred times. But, because I’ve tasted the unveiling of blessings that occur through difficulties, I have developed confidence to be steadfast in my efforts to always dance.

I invite you to consider what could be expressions of self-compassion able to hold you when you need tenderness, when sadness or fear visits.

*The watercolor above was born this week from my slow waltz with malaise.

If you would like to share:

What form(s) can self-compassion take for you?

Are you comfortable giving to yourself, so you can practice self-compassion?

If you are comfortable, I’d love for you to introduce yourself by hitting the comment button. We are a virtual community, but we can still create meaningful connections.

Thank you for helping hold this compass of compassion. Your presence here matters more than you may know. What a wondrous community we are growing! Each of you holds a unique expression of the compass, allowing you to touch people’s lives in ways no one else can. Let us continue to hold our compasses high and be a light for ourselves and for each other. And please share this publication with anyone who you believe may benefit from our community of compass-holders.

With much love,

Renee

PS: If there is any topic you would like me to dive into, or a guided-word meditation you are craving, you can leave a comment or send me an email by replying to this publication.

Leave a comment

Share

Meanwhile, our publication was granted permission to be part of the Beta testers for video. As some of you know, I sent the first test video last Wednesday and I’ve heard there were glitches while viewing it. I’ll inform Substack and their awesome team can continue to work it out—and I hope soon because I have some really exciting videos planned!

For this Sunday, I’ve created a short meditation to ease anxiety, which is above. And to help the meditation take deeper root, I wrote a short Care-note below.

To dance with anxiety.

I was asked this week what I did for anxiety. I get this question often, and I fear the answer is overwhelming for many because it points to the dreadful truth that we have to be pro-active in our dance with anxiety. No sweet sayings we scroll past on social media, or pretty guided meditations, are going to fix our relationship with this gripping experience of unease. We must confront the dragon, not in a battle, but in a dance of non-resistance.

When I consider the concept of non-resistance, I imagine martial art techniques that employ redirecting energy to gain control of a situation. For example; someone throws a punch and instead of countering it with a punch back, we step to the side and allow the aggressor to stumble into empty space by the momentum of their punch.

Redirecting a punch is an intuitive way to understand non-resistance, yet it’s challenging to apply this concept to not resisting anxiety. In my experience, it’s easier to train our bodies how to step aside from a punch than train our minds how to accept the awful experience of anxiety. The challenge rests in the more subtle aspects of ourselves; the unhealthy mental and emotional habit patterns. We’ve developed these habits throughout our lifetime, and they are the root cause of many anxiety challenges.

When we attempt to not resist anxiety, the habit patterns rally together and scream at us to resist anxiety.

“Resist,” they say, “anxiety is bad!”

They think they are protecting us. Furthermore, their very existence depends on us grasping onto them with an iron fist. But this iron fist of resisting anxiety empowers our unhealthy habit patterns and, in turn, strengthens anxiety. Non-resistance relaxes the fist and allows the dissolving of unhealthy habit patterns. That means their death. Without our unhealthy habit patterns alive, much of our anxiety dissolves, too.

Allow anxiety to arise, the fist softens. Allow anxiety to dissolve, there is no more iron fist.

Allowing anxiety to arise, and then dissolve naturally, is how we can dance with this unwanted house guest. When we learn to dance in this way, we take the lead, and when we lead, we face the dragon. Facing the dragon is part of being a bad-ass and carrying the sword of a warrior. I will never lie to you and say this dance isn’t hard. I know it is because anxiety is my shadow-twin. But I promise, non-resistance gets easier and more natural.

Guided meditations, like the one for today, can help us integrate methods that calm our anxiety. They help us learn to take the lead in the dance and realize we are so much more than panic and unease that often capture our minds and bodies.

And because we are so much more, we can subdue the anxiety patterns.

I will be thinking of all of you this week as I edit next week’s publication. Thank you for being here. I appreciate each one of you and I send you all of my love.

-Renee

The Creator’s Compass is reader supported, thus the absence of ads. If you would like to further support this work and keep it going, like and share!

Leave a comment

This is our first Care-Note with The Creator’s Compass. These notes are bridges of connection between the more in-depth publications. I welcome you to rest into the short meditation on silence found above.

We got a Spring snow last night, and the ground is now bathed in that soothing blinding white, bringing with it a silence that my soul craves every single day. A silence made up of the absence of things: The absence of cars and planes and ceaseless voices, which somehow wind through the trees of the forest behind my house. In the timeless center of silence, we behold the wisdom of the trees, of the snow, of the stars, of ourselves.

Wherever you are, try to go outside where it’s easier to be in connection with what’s real and find a bit of silence resting in the bark of a fallen tree, or the steady pulse of a stone someone kicked aside, or the wisp of a moment between one sound and another. And may all our moments of beholding meet together beyond time and space. I’ll see you there.

If this publication spoke to you, consider sharing it with others to help The Creator’s Compass expand in ripples of loving-kindness.

Share

Leave a comment

Not a subscriber yet? Subscribe for free to never miss a publication and support my work.

Subscribe now

Consider getting the brand new Substack app for a seamless experience.

Read The Creator's Compass in the Substack app

Available for iOS and Android

Get the app