A rose that buds
If the world brought you to tears this week, come for a Sunday meditation on breath.
The world brought me to tears this week. I’m moved from the inside, desperate to help every living being. There is humor, yes. I’m good at jokes, but only because otherwise I would scream: I want to save you, let me save you. There is no saving others without first saving yourself, and by now I should have learned this.
Some thoughts in my head, very persistent:
I’m thankful my parents put food in my mouth when I was a child.
I’m thankful for the safety of my childhood bedroom.
I’m thankful for the elderflowers my mum and I would pick in the woods behind our house.
I’m thankful I got to know my grandfather in this lifetime.
I’m thankful for the sound of cars far in the distance and the tapping of raindrops on my window.
I’m thankful for the privilege of carving a space that is my own and turning an empty room into an altar of my life.
I’m thankful for the strength of my body.
I’m thankful my mind yearns for a pristine state.
I’m thankful for community.
The world brought me to tears this week because I wish for the rose to bud in me.
The rose that buds is the most beautiful flower you’ll ever see.
This Sunday, we’re practicing meditation on breath again. To ground, to soften, to take our bodies and mind back. Meditation starts at our usual time: 1pm NYC, 6pm London, 7pm Zagreb time. I hope to see you. 🌹




Feeling all of this deep in my bones. Thank you, Val - I can see you through these lines, and I see myself as well 💛