We only truly live through the heart.

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Events to come…

Feb 6th (Internet) Virtual Reiki Practice

Feb 6th (Internet) Virtual Reiki Practice

Feb 6th-7th (Paris) Crystal Days (I & II)

Feb 13th (Internet) A Virtual Crystal Party!

Feb 13th (Internet) A Virtual Crystal Party!

Feb 27th (Internet) A Virtual Angel Party!

Feb 27th (Internet) A Virtual Angel Party!

Mar 1st-2nd (Paris) Reiki Shoden (Level I)

Mar 3rd-4th (Paris) Reiki Okuden (Level II)

Mar 5th-7th (Paris) Reiki Shinpiden (Level III)

Mar 6th (Internet) Virtual Reiki Practice

Mar 6th (Internet) Virtual Reiki Practice

Mar 12th-14th (Paris) Take Action with the Angels

Mar 13th (Internet) A Virtual Crystal Party!

Mar 13th (Internet) A Virtual Crystal Party!

Mar 19th-21st (Paris) Angelic Co-Creation

Mar 20th (Internet) A Virtual Angel Party!

Mar 20th (Internet) A Virtual Angel Party!

Mar 25th-28th (Paris) Manna Initiation

May 8th-9th (Paris) Opening to Elementals

May 14th-16th (Mulhouse) Take Action with the Angels

May 21st-23rd (Mulhouse) Angelic Co-Creation

Jun 4th-6th (Paris) Take Action with the Angels

Jun 11th-13th (Paris) Angelic Co-Creation

(Complete agenda here.)

Stealing Home

K. Hudson July 17, 2020

There are days, and then there are days… aren’t there? Though admittedly life is a series of days strung together by nights and sleep, sometimes they do not seem to resemble each other in the least! Some days, for example, see us nostalgic for the past, and then others, enthusiastic for the future. Some days are made for contemplation (if we allow it), and others, for action. And then there are the days that are meant for both: days that are meant for Stealing Home, maybe. And even then, there is stealing home, and stealing home. And then there is stealing Home…


When I was young, I played a lot of softball (girls weren’t allowed to play baseball.) A LOT. In fact, if there were a team here in France (where the quality of play is lesser), I might even still be playing. Love that game! Though I still wish I were playing, in deference to my - ahem – shall we say ripened state, even if I were playing softball, I probably wouldn’t be stealing home. Or any of the bases, either, for that matter! I was never a big hitter, but back in the day, could be counted on to get on base. And, once on, could be counted on to steal the next base, or at least force errors as I played between bases. I was fast enough for that, and I delighted in it! I even did the unthinkable a couple of times and actually stole home, sliding in - SAFE! - under the nose of annoyed catchers! Just writing those words puts me on the Allerton Avenue field in the Bronx where our high school team played. So much FUN! Nostalgia can bring a smile… even thought that kind of stealing home is definitely a thing of the past.


But there was stealing home then, and there is stealing home now, and they have certain aspects in common. I am thinking about walking back from the meeting with my publisher yesterday; instead of taking the masked Metro, I opted for the open air walking alone the Seine. On the walk back, social distancing was easy as the skies had darkened, and a was storm rolling in. I was almost the only simple soul walking along the river, as I stole home before the storm caught me out. In these two cases, the Allerton softball stealing home and yesterdays, there is a sense of excitement, adrenalin, a shift of perspective, and - Hallelujah! – a sense of safety upon arrival. Calm, safety, easing breath, relaxing body and mind. After the heightened stimulation of sport and storm, the celebration of the safety: AHHHH…


But there is stealing home here, and there is stealing Home “there”. So often, we speak in terms of death as tragic, as awful, as THAT WHICH SHALL NOT BE NAMED, as if by avoiding speaking of it, we could avoid it altogether (and for how long would THAT be fun?)

Maybe you, like me, have already accompanied someone who slipped peacefully from this life, and stole home. Someone for whom, sort of like me not wanting to steal home on a baseball field at my age today, the fun had gone out of it. For whom this life was no longer desired: no fun, dis-ease, no security of ease in it.

I had this conversation with someone yesterday: how if/when I am no longer able to function well on my own (I leave what that means to the me yet to come), I would like to steal home. No extreme measures for me, I would prefer to slip quietly out of the storm zone that is this earth, and head to the safe haven that follows, to steal away from the turbulence of this life, opting instead for what awaits.


You know, Home.


But though I am not ready to quit the Game, and leave this mortal coil just yet, I do enjoy days like today, when in the midst of the sound and the fury, I can steal Home for just a few minutes. A time of meditation, a moment or two of silence. Another long walk…


How wonderful that even in the midst of the Game that is this life, we can access the quiet and nourishment (better than the Gatorade we got on the track team at Georgetown – Go Hoyas!) of Home! Reminding us that our eternal Home is not another place, but every place… and that we carry it deep inside ourselves!

And the more we “steal Home” every day, the easier it will be for us to let go and “steal Home” when our run at this life is ending.


So today, in between all the items on my to-do list, I will steal Home, and thus add more peace, security, and good health to my day.

How ‘bout it? You stealing Home today?

It’s a Home Run, love from Paris

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