Today got away from me. It was to be a proper and rare day off from my work-work, but not a day of rest. I know. I know! As dull as it seems, I need to set my house in order. I was making a mental checklist as I swept the leaves from the driveway. Sort: Laundry. Garbage and recycling. And harder, more of Mom’s things. What stays, what goes, and if it goes, where does it go? Ugh. I wanna play!

No sooner did I wish this, one of our new neighbors skipped out onto the driveway, her arms full, calling out, “Remember, today’s the Neighborhood Block Party at our house!” Then, a gush of word—they were having it early so it wouldn’t compete with block parties all over town. Because they just moved in, they wanted to meet all the neighbors because she only has two friends, and there were hotdogs and games and Halloween prizes and her mom is professional event planner, so she’s the host. Would we come? She’d scotch-taped an invitation to our front door so it wouldn’t blow away. Did we see it?

I always wanted to be as brave as this sweet soul.

Most of us in our town haven’t felt like celebrating anything, but when a seven-year-old has an inflatable spider hat on her head and wants everyone to come over and play, it’s hard to say anything but, “Yes, of course! We’ll see you soon.”

Ruby platted an array of seasonal cookies and we both left phones and keys at home on purpose. No one but the professional event planner took a single picture. But those darn adorable college kids living on and around the corner showed up for as much food as they could eat, and they all so dearly got into the game with our seven-year-old neighbor with the spider hat on her head that the joy had to be documented, just two pix and then, that was it. 

The laughter was the sweetest thing to ring through our neighborhood in ages. Kids played tag and ran races with eyeball pingpong balls balancing on spoons. I fished into a water-filled bin and found long rubber snakes meant to scare me, but instead brought another neighbor’s offer to show me the two foot long garter snake under his steps. We don’t eat hotdogs so we ate delicious homemade chocolate for lunch and sipped lemonade. My beautiful once-shy daughter moved through the party in a way that reminded me of my mother, easily chatting with new friends, playing with the kids, welcoming another clutch of college kids when our hostess stepped away, and smiling in a way that was gloriously free, unbothered and “normal.”

Yes, we all saw some terrible things earlier today online. Yes, it’s a privilege to be able to safely gather and share food. And yes, not all right now can do such things, but for these kids, we needed to wrap our hearts around giving them a little bit of what we grew up expecting on a weekend. Shared food. Simple joys. We needed to ask the rainbow of college kids what their dreams were and give them our numbers if they needed anything, anytime, to help them. 

This is not a normal newsletter because these are not normal times, but I pray, even as I send this out late on a Domingo night, that every single day, you find balance like this. I pray and hope that you hold these kinds of loving intentions for yourself, your family, your neighbors, and any strangers that you meet. It’s not hard. We need space for breath, for joy, for seven-year-old kids inside and out that need us to unfurl our brows, open our arms, and BE Light. BE Love. BE present.

This week, not only am I online for Amy Ferris’ Write to Bloom course beginning this Martes for those who wish to get all the things out on paper that are needing safe space, but we also have our Dancing Hands/JANE (Joyfully Activating Nurturing Energy) Extended Quanta Circle beginning this Miércoles for three nights in a row. 

“Where two or more are gathered, I AM with you.” And Source/God/Spirit has asked I continue to show up because the world is aching. It may be a very intimate circle this week, (a dancing handful?), but if ever there was a time for me to continue sharing this gift of Love, it’s now. And you are invited with or without an inflatable spider hat. And please, if you’re having too hard of a time financially to be able to attend, please just let me know if you’d like to join us. These are tender times for so many and there are other ways to extend an energetic exchange. 

I am sending you ever-flowing hugs now and always.

Thank you for being here. Stay in love.