My leafy co-workers have been yearning for fresh soil and room to grow for months. It’s been my joy to repot them all afternoon. Proudly, I carry them back to the office, one by one.

Tools that help us find effectiveness and grace. Tools that form a safety net to fall back on when we wugg it up and wish we’d done better. We practice aligning with our best selves, day by day. In community.

We’ve always embraced education as a family. We committed, as individuals and as a group, to following our passions, to supporting one another, and to lifelong learning. It’s been fun and productive. And it’s never too late to jump on the bandwagon! You can free yourself to pursue the education most joyful to you at any age.

I’d always thought that Sam and Trin’s young adult years would be calmer than their toddler years, but it doesn’t feel that way now. Our roles are reversed. I’m learning from them more than they’re learning from me these days.

Change can be hard. We can feel like outsiders in our new homes for some time, if not forever. I am a transplant, generations later, adapting to a continent, embracing the region of my “new” home of almost twenty years here in Oregon.

This outer manifestation matches my inner experience. I welcome the opportunity to allow all of my emotions, even the deeply uncomfortable ones, safe passage through by body-being.

I’m open to seeing and moving towards the most efficient and effective paths to get what I want. I’m open to changing what I want. I’m open to guidance and committed to cultivating peace and joy so that such guidance finds me easily.

Meditation is a powerful vehicle to find it, but that vehicle is not imperative. Dr. Joe quoted a student, healing his body from ALS, who said, “I notice the more love I feel, the more I heal.” Dr. Joe added “He didn’t say, ‘the more I meditate’ — no, he said, ‘the more I open my heart.’”

We learn the hard way once or twice (or twenty times), and eventually say, “Oh! Here’s how I can do it better.” Our better looks more orderly. It even takes less effort, after the habit has been changed.

I imagine a long list of thoughts and actions that are unhelpful and take energy. Doom scrolling, worrying about things I have no ability to change, rehashing the past from a victim perspective … I have choice about whether to do these. And choice comes with awareness.

Twilight is a world-between-worlds. Our shadows stretch as we come to appreciate the light.

I am grateful for the life in falling water that is measured in inches and by the roots of trees who draw nourishment and protection that will last them through the fire season.

She’s not the showiest forsythia (shhhhh). Her flowers have not been hybridized to open upwards brightly. The blossoms are small and look ready to withstand a gale force of wind. I do find beauty in that. Sharing her with you now, I grow fonder of her still, amused at our relationship.

The last practice shared in the Core Alignment with Joy series is the Satisfaction of Closure. Making time to reflect on and savor the sweetness of an event or relationship (with flowers too!) helps us see ourselves and the world in new ways. We make the most of our joy and the care we have invested, and this deep satisfaction can inspire our next steps so that they align with our dreams.

It reminds me that sometimes, less is more. That’s not what I first learned in Nonviolent Communication (NVC). I was taught the four components of expression: observation, feeling, need, and request. It’s a mouthful.

I’m not sure which is better — the fun, or the fact that I can transform what could be drudgery with my imagination. Have you ever noticed, though, that imagination rarely stays in your head? Thoughts do become things.

The light of goodwill is one I’m always making my way into. No logic or communication will soothe the soul like a mutual sense of shared warmth. And consciously choosing a path of goodwill, like consciously choosing authentic words, comes with practice.

I thank the Plane tree for her beauty, and for showing me life every day. For the sound of her leaves which I hear in the wind from my bedroom window. She is family. We are one.

Crocus is brave. She gets gussied up and shoots herself straight up into the cold and dark so we can notice that change is imminent, that anything can happen. She kindles faith within us that breath-taking beauty is just around the corner.

Priming is primarily valuable in the moment, and it also helps us open up to possibility in the future. It’s practice in taking the “feel good” neural pathways in relation to an event, and practice makes it more likely that we will find a feel-good path when the event arrives.