They say words are spells. You know, spell-ing. And it’s true! We cast spells each time we speak—our words reverberating outward into the ether, a vibration that dissipates at some point—but does it ever?

Does anyone really know?

Like a pebble tossed onto a still pond, its circular ripples expanding farther than the eye can follow—is there ever a true end to energy cast out into the world? Or does it add to the fabric of our reality…indefinitely?

I believe the latter.

It all counts. All output matters.

We are, after all, architects of our reality—every action, every thought, every spoken word is creating the world we experience. So why not make it beautiful?

Perhaps most beautifully, the power to create a beautiful life and a beautiful world lies within each one of us.

I spent a brief and profound time in Poland this summer and sat within one of the most stunning spaces I had ever sat in, IN MY LIFE: a 17th-century Baroque basilica in Poznań.

The following thoughts floated through my mind while soaking in the beauty that enveloped me:

Beauty is so healing.

Why don’t we build like this anymore?

I can feel the energy of this space illuminating my whole being.

I want my whole life to look like this. Intentional. Stunning. Radiant.

Beauty is so powerful and inspirational. Beauty is essential to the human spirit.

I’ll repeat that last thought:

Beauty is essential to the human spirit.

Beauty comes in many forms: the kindness of a stranger, the dewdrop on a blade of grass, a falling leaf from an oak tree, a dandelion growing through a crack in a city sidewalk, an infant’s eyes taking the world in, a beautiful old brick building holding on to the past, an “I love you,” “thank you,” or “I’m sorry,” a couple kissing on a park bench, a red rose, a sherbet sunset painting the sky, fireflies at dusk, a watercolor painting that makes your whole heart feel.

And I could go on and on.

These are things that I find beautiful. It is true that beauty is in the eye of the beholder.

What beauty are you beholding?

Speaking the Beautiful Way

Before I was in Poland, I spent some time in Berlin. While in the city, I heard somone utter that “Berlin is an ugly city.”

Honestly, hearing that rubbed me.

Ugly, I thought. What a heavy word to choose.

I could feel the vibration of the word in my body. And I couldn’t help but think of all of the beauty one could find in Berlin—like how there are a bazillion parks with playgrounds every few blocks or so, or the fact I found lotus flowers in bloom in a city pond.

There is always beauty to be found. Always.

Is Berlin the most architecturally beautiful city? Probably not. But to just flat-out say what was conveyed—is that necessary? Is that the best and most beautiful way to express that idea?

Most certainly not.

So if there were a 101 course on Speaking Beauty, it would go something like this:

The not-beautiful way of speaking:

Berlin is an ugly city.

The beautiful way of speaking:

While there are other cities whose architecture resonates more with me, I find the immense parks, diversity of cuisine, and the vibrancy of its artistic community here quite beautiful.

Our ability to communicate with one another is a sacred tool for cohabitating on this planet—may we all treat it as such.

Negative speak is a real thing—and can be hard to quit if one has a habit of it. This habit may have formed because it was modeled for them as children, or is currently modeled for them in their community or in the media they consume.

And look, this is most of us. Negative speak can creep in when we least expect it. But the more we form beautiful-speak patterns, the more beautiful-speak will surface in our day-to-day conversations.

We know that negative talk (remember the water rabbit hole I went down?) actually affects water molecules, and we are mostly water, so in that case, negative talk may actually be a health issue.

Speaking beauty will impact not only the world around you but also yourself and those closest to you.

Down to the water molecule.

Speak beauty into your life, and beauty will smile back at you.

You’ll find it more and more in your every day—even in the moments and places you least expect.

May beauty find you,

in even the heaviest of moments,

the darkest of days,

and may it fill your cup when it is empty.

May beauty be your North Star,

so that you may live in alignment with

the radiant light of the world.

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We found a beautiful tree to sit underneath, laid out a floral-adorned cotton blanket, and set up a small altar in one corner. In doing so, our client experienced her own backyard in a way she never had before.

All these years, and this was the first time.

This little moment of thoughtful things, thoughtfully placed, invited a simple mindful moment to take up a big space in the mind and heart.

And so beautifully mirrored, it was “enjoying the little things” that surfaced for her during the ceremony.

As my dear friend and business partner, Brittany, and I stepped away from the blanket to allow our client time to journal and be with herself, we looked at one another and thought:

Gosh, we need to do this more for ourselves.

The little things.

After all, it really is the little things in life that make such a big difference.

What happened that afternoon was simple.

We set up a scene that invited presence, beauty, and connection—to nature and to self.

And somehow, the soft breeze became more noticeable.

The way the sun dappled its way through the leaves and onto the blanket was fully captured by the eyes.

The taste of rose petal tea was sweeter.

And while the ceremony was a good reminder that I should set up a little ceremony for myself in my own backyard, I am grateful to most certainly live a life steeped in so many precious, fully felt moments filled with the little things.

There is a hot pink rose growing above a neighbor’s garden wall just down the street.

She is the only rose left on the bush.

Confidently, she has stretched herself beyond the wall, holding her bloom high for all to see as they pass.

It’s the cutest thing.

I say hello every time I’m lucky enough to walk by.

You’ll find the little things are everywhere, once you begin to drop into their presence.

In my day-to-day, it’s noticing a fern on a hike and looking underneath its fronds to marvel at its tiny seeds.

It’s putting whipped cream on my matcha just because... I’m alive!

It’s placing my son’s face gently between my hands when I see him off and say, “I love you. Goodbye.”

It’s laying out a blanket and reading to him in the backyard instead of on the sofa inside.

It’s my morning ritual, bare feet on the grass, no matter the weather.

It’s closing my eyes when I walk beside a stream so I can truly hear the water move.

It’s the blessings before every meal.

It’s cold watermelon in the summer heat.

And a homemade peach cobbler that your best friend made.

It’s even the ant I helped save from getting trapped in a droplet of olive oil on my kitchen counter.

(My ant hospital recommends using a Q-tip to gently free the ant from the heavy oil.)

I won’t soon forget that ant.

It’s big belly laughs with my dear friends.

It’s a sherbet-colored sunset you get to witness with a loved one.

It’s the simple, little things that this life blesses us with — if only we invite them in like your favorite neighbor.

These little things are woven together like threads of a blanket.

And in time,

the little things become the fabric of your life.

A life of presence.

Of sacredness.

Of moments to remember and treasure.

Moments when the senses are fully awake.

And so the moment becomes an imprint.

A life remembered not just by the grand moments,

but by the small ones too.

May we all take part in and relish—

all of life’s

little things.

I’ve been practicing meditation and mindfulness for far longer than I even had words for it. As a child, when life at home felt wild (I’m one of five children), I would head into nature, climb a tree, and stay there awhile. It was there, sitting on a tree branch, where I could come back to myself. I was able to center and ground. Calm my nervous system. And just be.

Nature has always been my solace.

In my twenties, when I lived in New York City, there was a tiny man-made waterfall in Prospect Park that became a kind of sanctuary. The soft, steady sound of the moving water. The birds chiming in like background singers. It was a sip of stillness amidst the whirling energy of city life.

Similarly, during a spell living in Hong Kong, I would run early mornings along the lush Peak. There was nothing quite like the heavy morning mist infused with the scent of burning incense drifting from tiny mountainside altars. Ah, how the senses have such a beautiful power in bringing us back to the present moment.

Today, as a mother, meditation teacher, and community space holder, I still return to simple moments of mindfulness throughout the day: a long shower, lighting a candle and watching the flame, a walk in nature, pausing to smell flowers along the sidewalk, playing my singing bowl, lying on my back in the grass, or simply taking one intentional inhale and exhale. It’s remarkable how much can shift in a single breath.

As a certified meditation teacher in the Science of Mindful Awareness, I’m honored to offer these guided meditations as a way to help you cultivate inner presence—to discover a steady place of peace within yourself, and to connect more deeply with what is alive in your body, heart, mind, and spirit.

I hope you enjoy this simple 8-minute mindfulness meditation, created to help you reset, relax, and return to yourself.

A decade ago, maybe?

It’s been so long that it’s become second nature—fully woven into my life.

No matter where I am, what I’m eating, or who I’m with, I pause to bless my food before every meal (or snack).

It’s one of the simplest rituals I know.
And one of the most transformative.

It lowers stress.
It supports digestion.
It brings you back to yourself in an instant.

Take a breath with me.

Big inhale.
Slow exhale.

Let’s make this part of your every day.

Positive effects on the body

Let’s start with the physical side of things, because naturally—you want to feel good in your body—you want to eat well and feel well, inside and out.

Taking a moment to say a blessing before eating shifts your body from a stressed, fight-or-flight state to a parasympathetic, rest-and-digest state.

This simple, intentional pause lowers your heart rate and signals your body to release digestive enzymes and stomach acids, helping your body actually receive the food you’re eating.

Even just a few seconds, one deep breath in and out, makes a difference!

Magic, eh?

What happens is that your nervous system calms, which supports gut function and can help prevent things like gas and bloating.

Your brain begins the digestive process before you take your first bite.
You produce more saliva, which helps break down food more effectively.

All of that… just by taking a breath, a moment for stillness, a moment for gratitude.

So often we’re eating unintentionally—rushing out the door, eating on the go, distracted. It’s just part of the modern-day flow.

But even in those moments, you still have an opportunity to slow down.

And that tiny moment of mindfulness before eating can completely shift how your body receives your meal.

Another sciencey idea to touch on is what Dr. Emoto uncovered in his experiments, which I explore deeply in this recent piece. One experiment suggested that words, intention, and attention have a tangible impact on organic matter.

So perhaps not only are we preparing our body to receive food with more ease and digestibility, but maybe we are even upgrading the meal itself on a cellular level.

A moment to reset and find your center

This part has been huge in my home.

We’ve had days where everything feels upside down. Someone’s grumpy, feelings got hurt five minutes before sitting down, and the energy is just a bit off.

But the food is hot, on the table, and it’s time to gather.

And so, without fail—even with all the feelings still present—we pause.

We hold hands.
We say our blessing.

Maybe on a day like that, our blessing is shorter, but no matter what, it still happens, hand in hand.

And almost instantly, something shifts.

The air feels lighter.
Our minds feel clearer.
We soften.

We’re suddenly able to have conversations that would have felt difficult just moments before—with more peace in our hearts, more patience, more compassion.

More times than I can count, this simple ritual has brought us back to each other, awakening us to the present moment, all the good we have in our lives, and all the love we have for each other.

Sometimes my son will lead the blessing (and include giving thanks for his LEGO), sometimes he has both eyes open and already a bite of food in his mouth, but alas, he has been partaking in this daily ritual for as long as he can remember — and that counts for something.

I’m thankful to know that he is learning ways to return to his center, and at such a young age.

Let’s hear it for the golden word: gratitude

Gratitude is one of those things that changes how you see everything—your life, your body, your relationships, what you attract. Which is why I start every day with a morning gratitude practice, which I explain in detail here.

I get it, building a daily gratitude practice that actually sticks can feel like a challenge.

Let this be your gateway.

You’re already eating every day. At least two to three meals (and if you’re not snacking… are you even living?).

So if you commit to taking an intentional pause, blessing your food, or saying a prayer before your meal, you’ve just dialed in a three-times-a-day gratitude practice.

(And I’m already proud of you!)

A simple blessing

It can be as expansive or as simple as you want. As with any daily ritual, make it your own.

Do what feels good. Don’t overthink it. Gratitude is gratitude when it comes from your heart.

A blessing/prayer before a meal may sound like:

Dear God / Great Spirit / Mother Nature / Creation (or just jump to the next part)
I am thankful for this meal.
I am thankful for those who tended to the land for this food to be on my plate.
I am thankful for the soil and the sun.
May I be nourished by this food,
and use this energy for good in the world.

And if you’re in a rush—because you’re human—it can be as simple as:

I am thankful for this food.

That’s enough.

When I’m alone, I notice I tend to hover my hands over my food while I say my blessing. Maybe that’s the Reiki practitioner in me, or maybe it just adds a little extra sparkle of reverence—but it just happens to be part of my flow.

I do my little blessing when I’m at a coffee shop. I do it when I’m out with friends. And if they are all talking and already started eating, I simply close my eyes for a couple of seconds, say ‘thank you’ in my mind, and then begin eating.

With close friends, I tend to offer,

"Shall we say a blessing?”

I’ve never received a no.

This tends to be a beautiful invitation to share with others.

Food is sacred — but have we forgotten?

Blessings before meals used to be the norm all over the world.

Because food is sacred.

But somewhere along the way—with grocery stores, convenience, everything at our fingertips—we lost sight of that.

We forget what it takes to grow food. To tend the land. To nourish a body.

And so we take it for granted. We drop the rituals. We lose the reverence.

But it’s still available to us. We can come back into alignment with our relationship to food. And a blessing or prayer practice is just one simple way to begin mending that relationship.

In Vedic and Ayurvedic traditions, the body is considered Annamaya Kosha (the food-sheath), meaning the physical body is directly constructed from and sustained by food. Food is deemed sacred (Annam Brahma) because it is the physical manifestation of divine energy that provides nourishment, vitality, and mental qualities, essentially making us what we eat.

In Buddhism, eating is considered a sacred act of mindfulness, gratitude, and interdependence rather than mere consumption. Food is viewed as medicine to sustain the body for spiritual practice, often involving reflection on the labor and nature of its production. Key practices include eating in silence, mindful consumption, and gratitude.

There are so many reasons—from health to happiness—to take a moment and give thanks before nourishing your body.

And it all starts with a simple pause.

A simple pause that can bring so much goodness into your body and your life.

I planted pansies the other day, hands in the soil, and looked down to see hands that have changed—quickly. Changed from time in the sun. Time living.

Life—it all seems to be flying by, like those picture books you flick with your fingertip to watch a story unfold in mere seconds.

Time, they say, is fleeting. There are not enough hours in the day, nor days in the year. In our society, it often feels like there is not enough time for the very things we most long to give our time to.

In Poetic Vision and the Psychedelic Experience, R.A. Durr writes,
“Time is not a thing, not a state of being. Space is not a thing, a place of being. They are important tools—very important tools, probably the finest tools man has yet developed. But they are tools, not realities… They may be our servants, or they may become our masters depending on how we view them.”

To be ruled by time—is that how we really want to live?
And yet, for most of us, it is our reality.

But what if we could bend time? Shape it. Use it as the tool it was meant to be.

Time can wax and wane—it can contract and expand.
We feel it when time drags in a waiting room.
We feel it when an hour tea date with a close friend can feel like lifetimes have been lived—in the most beautiful way.

For me, time softens when I meet a rose that has just burst open, or when I get the honor to witness starlings painting a blue sky. When I am simply more aware of the present moment, time moves slow like honey. And with that presence, I am also inviting in gratitude for what is alive in the here and now.

There seem to be two ways that we can approach ‘time’ in our lives. We either fight against time or become time. With the latter, we have the power to expand time, to be our very own clock-maker.

In every moment, these are our two choices. But in so many moments, the choice can feel like it has been made for us because of the absence of presence.

Perhaps it is presence that we need more of, not time itself.

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When I am in the here and now—fully present—I am no longer tethered to yesterday or reaching toward tomorrow. I step off the hurried timeline and embody something so vast, as if I am surfing the quiet hum of creation itself.

In the Telepathy Tapes podcast (S1E9), a non-speaker shares that time is not linear—that past, present, and future are all unfolding at once. It’s a lot to hold, I know. But a fascinating possibility worth contemplation.

I watched an old interview with Prince in which he said he has only ever had one birthday—the day he was born—and does not celebrate it annually. He shared that it’s what keeps him young and less stuck in the fixation on time passing. Brilliant, actually. And how liberating.

For me, presence feels like an expansion of time. A communion with the Universe. A merging with the timeline of Nature.
And in those moments, time does not feel fleeting.

It feels ever-unfurling—and I am a petal.

I wrote a little poem some years ago that went,

The plants are not thinking,
‘What about that spring six years ago?’
They only drink the rain of today.

Do I wish I had more earth-side time with my little brother? Of course. That truth is part of the fabric of my very being.

But grief has also taught me this:
to slow down,
to be with the people I love,
to meet life in presence and in awe.

This wild, mysterious experience of being here—on this planet, in these bodies—asks something of us. Not urgency, but attention. Not rushing, but hushed reverence.

May we walk at a pace aligned with our soul’s highest calling.
May we step out of the rigidity of linear time and into the sacredness of now.
May time be our companion, not our master.

Reflecting on time brings me to Mary Oliver’s transcendent poem, The Summer Day. Her last line is the very question to reflect upon (as I do daily). She says it best, and so profoundly:

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean—
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down—
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don’t know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

—Mary Oliver

And yes—it’s me. I’m over here raising my hand. I do all the non-invasive, happy, healthy, holistic things (the acupressure wand is a personal favorite) to give my skin the love it deserves. After all, a skincare ritual can truly become a beautiful self-care practice—one that honors our soul’s vessel in this lifetime.

After trying all the face massage techniques, cleansing oils, and tallow balms under the sun, I finally felt like I had found my skincare groove. And yet, even with all that I had figured out, I could feel that something was still missing.

Then came the download—probably while I was in the shower, which is where my best ideas often surface.

It was one of those moments where all the pieces of the (skincare) puzzle suddenly came together. It dawned on me that I was missing the most important part of my routine.

I want to add that there’s a fine line between self-care and obsessing over a beauty ideal. For me, the difference lies in intention.

Are we caring for ourselves from a place of love—or trying to fix something we believe is wrong?

When we love ourselves as we are—without the need to drastically change—something softens. And that tenderness, that foundation of unconditional love, goes a long way.

Which brings me to my skincare revelation.

(But first, we’ll need to dive into a little science…)

The Rice Experiment

Have you ever heard of the Japanese scientist and author Dr. Masaru Emoto and his famous rice experiment? Or perhaps his water crystal experiment?

The rice experiment involved three jars of cooked rice:

• One was labeled “I love you / Thank you”

• Another “I hate you / You’re an idiot”

• The third was unlabeled and ignored

Over 30 days, the jars were treated accordingly—spoken to with love, spoken to with contempt, or given no attention at all.

At the end of the month, the “Love” jar had begun fermenting and smelled sweet. The “Hate” jar grew dark mold. And the ignored jar—receiving no words, no attention—was the most unsettling of all, overtaken by a blue-green mold that was downright gnarly.

The experiment suggested that words, intention, and attention have a tangible impact on organic matter.

You can totally try this experiment at home. Give it a search on the internet, and you’ll see countless others inspired by Emoto.

Water Remembers

In 1994, Emoto’s water experiments sent waves of curiosity through the worlds of science and well-being alike.

Water exposed to different words, thoughts, prayers, or music was frozen and examined under a microscope. The claim? Water exposed to loving, harmonious stimuli formed beautiful, symmetrical crystals—while water exposed to negativity formed chaotic, fractured shapes.

Dr. Emoto published these findings in his book The Hidden Messages in Water.

He continued his work by studying tap water versus moving bodies of water, water that had been prayed over versus unblessed water. In one double-blind experiment, a group of 2,000 people in Tokyo sent prayers to bottles of water sealed in a protected chamber across the ocean in California—and the results checked out.

If you’re feeling investigative, I highly recommend exploring his work.

Whether it’s jars of rice or frozen water crystals, one thing becomes clear:

Intention matters.

So… What Does This Have to Do With Skincare?

Stick with me, keep your vitamin C face mask on—we’re about to land.

We know that the human body is made up of roughly 70% water.

Your skin alone contains an astonishing amount:

• Dermis: ~70–80% water

• Living epidermis: ~70–90% water

• Outermost layer: holds water too, albeit less

In other words, your skin is a living body of water

So what is your water remembering?
What words are shaping your form?

If each time you look in the mirror, you silently criticize—judge, nitpick, wish something away—imagine how that water responds. Imagine what it’s being asked to hold.

We spend hundreds (sometimes thousands) of dollars on skincare and treatments. And yet, the most consistent influence on our skin is our relationship with it.

This Theory Goes Beyond Skin

Our thoughts, words, and intentions touch:

• Our houseplants

• The food we eat

• Our children and partners

• Friends and colleagues

• The sourdough starter hanging out on your countertop

• The barista making your nut milk cappuccino

• Your morning glass of water

You get the gist.

The world around us responds to our attention. We are, quite literally, the architects of our reality—one crystalline water molecule to another.

And the body of water we spend the most time with in this life?

Yourself.

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The Missing Step

If you’re investing in serums, devices, and treatments—but not imbuing your skin with kindness, love, and gratitude—it may be time to add one final (and possibly most powerful) step of your skincare ritual.

What’s there to lose?
It’s free.
It’s available 24/7.
And it never sells out.

This step may become the most efficacious of all. But truth be told, consistency is key.

The next time you endeavor your skincare routine — both AM and PM — try this blessing:

(gaze in the mirror at your skin, hand on heart, take a gentle cleansing breath)

“Thank you, beautiful skin.
You are radiant.
You are healthy.
You are calm and bright.
All of your cells are shining.
I am thankful. I love you.”

And as you move through your day—passing your plants and pets, friends and strangers, sitting down to meals, finding yourself in front of a mirror, or just simply feeling into your precious body—remember this:

Intention matters.
Thoughts carry power.
And words are spells.

This may be the most transformational skincare ritual you’ve yet to try, and the one you stick with for the long haul.

It may also be your answer to truly radiant, glowing skin.

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As an intuitive woman, you’d think I’d tune into my heart to find the answers to my most pressing questions. But as I like to say, massage therapists still need a masseuse just as therapists need therapists.

A friend recommended a clairvoyant, and I thought, why not?

There I was on a Zoom call with a perfect stranger that I was willing to share the depths of my heart with. A colorful wall tapestry of sacred geometry as her backdrop and a couple decades my senior, I could feel she had great energy—albeit across digital distance—and so I dove in. I shared and she listened, smiling like she’d been me before, some twenty years ago.

She shuffled a deck of cards while taking in my story. Drew a few, kept listening, and then continued to shuffle.

I was hoping she would just dish out the answer. You know, tell me exactly what I should do and what would come of my relationship, or my life in general. But that’s not how this session went (and I’m not sure any of them go that way, actually).

Instead of telling me my fortune, she gave me the gift of a lifetime: a tool to help me live aligned with my highest self—heart wide open.

At the end of the call, this is what she advised:

“Every day, say aloud all the things you are grateful for in life.”

It sounded simple enough. I also thought, why is she telling me this? Am I coming off as ungrateful? (And maybe I was.)

I took the day to process it all. The next morning I thought, what the heck, I’ll say aloud all that I’m grateful for. After all, it couldn’t hurt?

As I embarked on this mission, I didn’t just find some private place in the house away from my husband and son. I knew that stepping outside barefoot—grounding—had potent healing properties and I had been wanting to weave that into my life. The earth’s surface has this magical way of allowing the body to absorb negatively charged electrons (similar healing properties as when we submerge in the ocean where we soak in both negative ions and electrons).

When your body absorbs these negatively charged electrons, they neutralize positively charged free radicals. This can support reduced inflammation and pain, and help balance the nervous system.

So this felt like a double whammy: go outside barefoot and say aloud all that I am grateful for.

But the buck didn’t stop there.

I remembered how early-morning (or early-evening) sun-gazing is known to support circadian rhythm and hormone regulation. So I thought, why not make this ritual the total mind–body–spirit trifecta of goodness?

Oh—wait, there is one more piece to the puzzle.

I needed to hold my heart while speaking these words. With my hand on my heart, I have deeper awareness that I’m taking a moment for something sacred—it’s like a signal to my soul. With hand on heart, we place reverence on the words we speak and invite the heart to share what is alive and true.

And so it began: the morning ritual that would change my life as I knew it.

All because I felt like my marriage was falling apart and a psychic would somehow save it.

What the psychic did do was help me transform my own life.

I’ve been deep in this morning ritual for over three years now. They say that if you do something for 21 days consecutively, it becomes a habit—so stick with it, friends. If I can do it, you can do it.

Over the years devoted to this practice of deep presence, I’ve stepped barefoot onto early winter frost covering resilient blades of grass, into crunchy snow, onto ice (until it started to sting—then I’d put my slippers back on). I’ve stepped out into pouring rain and into the sweet-scented, misty mornings of spring.

What we focus our attention on shapes what we see, and in turn, our reality. Thanks to this ritual, my life has become so much more rich, more vibrant, more full of love and beauty.

This daily practice has gifted me not only profound inner peace and quiet joy, but also an intimate attunement to the rhythms of nature.

I promise you: there is no better way to check the weather than this morning ritual.

A Step-by-Step Guide to My Morning Ritual

1. Before checking your phone or turning on any glaring blue lights in the morning
   (not ideal for your hormones or circadian rhythm)
   

2. Step outside barefoot onto the earth
   As a mother, I get that it may feel hard to carve out this moment. My little one used to come outside with me—it’s powerful when children witness us in our spiritual practice.
   

3. Gaze toward the sun (early morning)
   Even if clouds completely cover it, simply find the lightest part of the sky.
   

4. Hand on heart, say aloud everything you are grateful for
   For me, this often sounds like: “Dear God, thank you for this day, for the great mystery that surrounds my every breath, for my husband and my son, for our health, for our warm home, for our friends and community…”

   
   As I take in my environment—the trees, the sweet bird songs—I let my words rise naturally, waxing poetic with whatever comes that day. I often send blessings to loved ones, both earthside and beyond the veil, and extend peace into the world.
   

   But you do you. What comes from the heart, from the present moment, will rise organically—shifting and changing with life’s seasons, a beautiful reflection of our ever-evolving inner and outer landscape.

Don’t always have a backyard to retreat to? Not to worry.

I’ve taken this ritual on the road countless times—whether standing by a hotel window on the tenth floor or finding a tiny patch of grass in a parking lot. The key is simply to make this daily gratitude practice work in whatever way is available to you.

When we commit to a daily gratitude practice, our lens on life begins to shift. We start opening our eyes to the abundance already present—and that welcomes in more and more of that goodness.

I invite you to shape this morning ritual in a way that feeds your heart and soul, aligns with your personal beliefs, and helps you call in your highest self each and every day.

As the sun continues to rise, so may we—as we step deeper and deeper into our heart’s true calling.

Personally, I end my morning ritual with:

May all beings be free of suffering and that which causes suffering.
Om shanti, amen.

P.S. My marriage?

Today, I can say with my whole heart that I’m grateful for my husband: for how he shows up for our son and our family, how he cooks thoughtful meals with love and intention, how he supports my free-spiritedness—never wishing to clip my wings, only to see me soar higher and higher.

The thing is, it was there all along. I simply needed a gratitude practice. A way to return to the truth of the matter. To Self. To Spirit. To truly witness—and receive—all of the beauty in my life.

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Ep. 83 - Alicia Henry on How Grief is Woven into the Fabric of Being