Dear Friends ~ Warmth sweeps across the globe in its own time, as does the cold. Wet or dry spells make their ecological homes, then ebb away. As I greet you, dear readers, February is inviting winter in all its glory, despite its chilly inconveniences. It's a time to draw in close to the fire, to snuggle up with a good book, or brave the elements, swooping down the slopes, gliding across the ice, building a perfect snow man or woman with young loved ones, or admiring the beauty of transformed terrain.
In lockstep, another thermometer robs us of any semblance of warmth: wars, school shootings, fear, political wrangling, dangerous gangs, rudeness, and emotional coldness seep slowly into old-fashioned neighborly warmth. Let us pray that sacred warmth will infuse our hearts and hearts across the world.
Whether your neighborhood is facing the winter elements or exploring an avalanche of enduring joys, or being challenged in any way, know that we are with you. We invite you into loving kindness and healing silence, and encourage you to spread warmth daily. We pray that warmth will infuse our hearts, our neighborhoods and nations, near and far. ~ Mary Ann
Carl Hammerschlag relates a healing interaction he had with a very ill old Pueblo priest and clan chief, whom he was treating in the hospital:
Suddenly, there was this beautiful smile, and he asked me, "Where did you learn to heal?"
Although I assumed my academic credentials would mean little to the old man, I responded almost by rote, rattling off my medical education, internship and certification.
Again the beatific smile and another question: "Do you know how to dance?"
... I answered that, sure, I liked to dance; and I shuffled a little at his bedside. Santiago chuckled, got out of bed, and short of breath, began to show me his dance.
"You must be able to dance if you are to heal people," he said.
"And will you teach me your steps?" I asked, indulging the aging priest.
Santiago nodded. "Yes, I can teach you my steps, but you will have to hear your own music.”