Author: sundog2020

March 26, 2021

Story 34: Chocolate Rabbit

For years, I have been palming off a particularly adorable baby picture of my brother as my own. We mostly share the same features: blue eyes, nose, cheekbones. But that is where the similarity ends.

Chocolate Rabbit is about chocolate, habits, and Easter. (See Links 29)

Walking Meditation: Early Spring Colour

This Walking Meditation has you attending to the colours that surround you.

Coming Soon: Story 35: Endings

Some endings are explicit: clearly we are told what  happened next: threads are gathered into tidy bundles; here is no room for questions; the teller has decided on this version, as the truth.   Other endings are implicit, open to some interpretation, leaving you to wonder what it means to live happily ever after, for example.

Short Yoga Nidra : Ice

Explore an icy world in this Yoga Nidra practice. (Special guest voice by Peter)

March 19, 2021

Story 33: Free Will?

Are the paths we walk our own? What I mean is this: does everything unfold with intention, according to my own plans and free will? Is there inside me a tiny wizard of Oz, hiding behind the curtains of my mind, peering out through bony sockets, pulling  levers, turning dials, shouting hoarse commands, keeping me on time, and on the straight and narrow path?

BONUS: An experiment I learned from Sam Harris (See Links 27, 28)

Sounds in Nature Meditation: Water

Sounds of a water, a canoe, crows and a loon (at the very end).

Coming Soon:

Story 34: Chocolate Rabbit

For years, I have been palming off a particularly adorable baby picture of my brother as my own. We mostly share the same features: blue eyes, nose, cheekbones. But that is where the similarity ends.

Chocolate Rabbit is about chocolate, habits, and Easter.

March 12, 2021

Story 32: Refrain

He always had a book on his lap, marked his notes in its margins; filled notebooks with observations on migration, nature and spring. Later they all went missing: someone, who was more practical, likely used them to start a fire on a cold winter night. 

Refrain is about Atti, my great grandfather and the tracks we follow.

Short Yoga Nidra: Stormy Sky

This Yoga Nidra practice involves rapid visualizations of objects and images.

Sound Meditation: Thunder, rain and birds

A few minutes of thunder that I recorded last August.

Coming Soon:

Story 33: Free Will?

Are the paths we walk our own? What I mean is this: does everything unfold with intention, according to my own plans and free will? Is there inside me a tiny wizard of Oz, hiding behind the curtains of my mind, peering out through bony sockets, pulling  levers, turning dials, shouting hoarse commands, keeping me on time, and on the straight and narrow path?

March 5, 2021

Story 31: Missing Words

Sometimes you meet the perfect word, like gigil, a Tagalog word meaning the irresistible urge to squeeze someone because they are loved or cherished. And sometimes there is no single word to capture a fleeting moment. (See Links 24, 25, 26)

Yoga Nidra 17: Snow (for sleep)

This Yoga Nidra practice takes you onto a field of snow and sun.

Coming Soon: Story 32: Refrain

He always had a book on his lap, marked his notes in its margins; filled notebooks with observations on migration, nature and spring. Later they all went missing: someone, who was more practical, likely used them to start a fire on a cold winter night. 

Refrain is about Atti, my great grandfather and the tracks we follow.

February 26, 2021

Story 30: Thin Ice

The first step you take on a frozen lake is a beginning that you will never feel again. It catches the breath in your throat, and has you wondering: is it worth it? will I fall? should I turn back? And with every step you leave a little bit of yourself behind. (See Links 23)

Yoga Nidra 16: Forest (long)

This long practice takes you deep into a forest. For a shorter version, listen to #10.

Coming Soon: Missing Words

What do you do if there is no word in any language for what you are experiencing and feeling? While words help us to recognize and communicate experiences, I wonder if they might also limit and constrain us. Why let a single word contain us when we are walking on air?

February 19, 2021

Story 29: Wet Wool

 It sometimes feels as though memories are awakened and tugged upwards by the finely tuned strings of our senses,  linking a forgotten past to the here and now. 

Wet Wool is about sounds and smells, and the link between sensations and memories.

Mindful Meditation 17: Selfless

This Mindful Meditation brings awareness to the ebb and flow of emotions, sensations and thoughts.

Coming Soon: Thin Ice

The first step you take onto a frozen lake is a beginning that you will never feel again. It catches the breath in your throat, and has you wondering: is it worth it? will I fall? should I turn back? And with every step you leave a little bit of yourself behind.

Yoga Nidra: Forest (long)

This long practice takes you deep into a forest.

February 12, 2021

Story 28: Ruminants

To ruminate,  to  revisit a thought over and over again, comes from the word ‘ruminant’ – an animal that eats grass;  chewing, swallowing, regurgitation and rechewing the same fodder over and over again. It is the same with us humans, we constantly consume our thoughts. (see Links 20, 21, 22)

Mindful Meditation 16: Waves

Find calm in the observations of the cloud of sensations that surround you.

Coming Soon: Wet Wool

My husband, who spent many childhood Sundays sitting on hard, straight-backed Dutch church pews, is finely tuned to the quiet crinkle of peppermint wrappers, the sound’s sweet promise of powdery white candies, which his mom, and all the Dutch moms,  pulled out of their purses once the congregation settled in for a long sermon. I swear the sound and taste still hypnotizes him into a sleepy lull.

Wet Wool is about sounds and smells, and the link between sensations and memories.

February 6, 2021

Story 27: Samuel

February 6. The earth is still spinning on its winter arc, though days are growing longer: a minute in the morning, another one at night.

A very brief story about loss and life unfurling.

Coming Soon: Ruminants

To ruminate,  to  revisit a thought over and over again, comes from the word ‘ruminant’ – an animal that eats grass;  chewing, swallowing, regurgitation and rechewing the same fodder over and over again. It is the same with us humans, we constantly consume our thoughts.

January 29, 2021

Story 26: Eavesdropper

It wasn’t just Rosa’s voice I’d overheard; slowly, I picked up the many whispers that drifted out of other neighbours’ open pipes and widened seams. It was as if I’d discovered new frequencies on my dial, found private stations that I had never known. 

Walking Meditation 15 – Sound Movement

This walking meditation helps you to become more aware of the sounds that appear in consciousness as you walk through your city or through nature.

Coming Soon: Samuel

February 6. The earth is still spinning on its winter arc, though days are growing longer: a minute in the morning, another one at night.

A very brief story about loss and life unfurling.

January 22, 2021

Story 25: Knots and Ties

My grandmother kept chocolate, an apple and a paring knife in her apron pocket, read to us, cheated at cards but let me win. She knitted socks and liked her tea with cream, told us stories about talking pigeons and rabbits and owls. 

Walking Meditation 14 – Winter Movement

This walking meditation helps to ground you in your step by step movement.

Coming Soon: Eavesdropper

Every early morning, backhoes excavated the soil around brittle water mains and sewer pipes, and, come nightfall, the trenches were mostly tucked in again, and wooden bridges ran across unearthed pipes, connecting each house to the street.  Noise and dust were everywhere: they seeped through every crack in our house, and left a thin film around the coffee cups in our kitchen cupboards. And every morning we brushed a soft grey dust off our children’s sleep damp hair and faces.