A Poem, a Prayer and a Practice
Join me tomorrow for our weekly meditation & enjoy these transmutations from me and Ari
Dear Friends,
Tonight I offer you a poem, a prayer, and a practice. The poem is one I wrote a week ago when I was at the end of my rope. This year has gotten off to a rough start and it’s been a hard time in my household. But, I do think things are looking up with the coming of March — in like a lion, out like a lamb.
The prayer is an AI experiment my beloved,
dropped tonight on IG. It’s a beautiful reimagining of the scene that happened between Zelenskyy and Trump in the Oval Office on Friday. I watched Ari make this over 24-hours and it was truly masterful. His speed, clarity, and skill as an editor is incredible. But, it’s really his heart’s desire to give us something to hang onto, an alternate reality to believe in. Another world is truly possible.
And the practice is our weekly Coming Home meditation gathering. It happens tomorrow and most Tuesdays from 12-1pm EST and all are welcome. You don’t need to have any particular skill with meditation, just a willingness to be present with what is arising for you and others. This is truly a communal effort. We spend the first 30 minutes in deep conversation and the second 30 minutes bathing in the beauty and power of the symbols and energies we’ve generated. We open our minds and hearts, we shed, we share, we receive. It’s very special and also very natural. You are invited!
Whatever you have to offer or whatever it is you need, I promise you will find a place for it at Coming Home if you are willing and honest with yourself and the group.
Here is the Zoom link:
This is a pay-what-you-feel experience each week. Suggested donation is $10-20 for drop ins. Whatever you feel called to give is appreciated. Contributions can be made here: Paypal: schuyler@artofemergence.com or Venmo: ElizabethSchuyler-Brown. Paid subscribers, you are already covered. Thank you.
POEM: Hanging By a Thread Schuyler Brown February 2025 I was tethered to my life, to sanity, to clarity and purpose, by something like a rope. It was made of many fibers: luck, love, hope, certainty, vision, clarity, grit and determination; but also fear, trauma, compulsion, habit, and desperation. Life has been heavy lately and there's been so much friction. The rope has been stretched and frayed to breaking. On this cold, February night as fear and doubt take up residence in my heart I say to you, I am hanging by a thread. But...all is not lost. There's really no danger of falling and no possibility of failing-- It may be the last thread, the very last thread, but it is the indestructible one; the one that is a direct line to God the one that is God.