Namaste, Sparkling Circle of Fellow Travelers, Halo,

Peace.

It’s a big marker.

“One year ago, near midnight, I opened my mother’s sliding door. She’d not opened her eyes for hours, but I’d hoped she could feel the warm summer air. She lived to breathe in the scent of her wide and ambling river. It was elemental, restorative tonic that caught her time after time, from her youth perfecting high dives from the cottonwood trees. Decades later, she’d move back near the river so she could  inhale and swim in its musky layers every night. But now, here at the asphalt crossroads of J St. and the River Styx, the air was far too still. No lazy river breeze could float to the bed where Mom was shuffling off her mortal coil. Our love and a ring of candlelit prayers would have to suffice for this social butterfly’s transformation.”

This past Thursday was my mother’s first heavenly birthday. I lit my candle of The Empress and I wrote about her all day long. And as I wrote and wrote, cried and wrote more, I attempted the impossible. I began with the above words, and followed with many pages trying to articulate what saying goodbye meant then and means now—the midwifery of letting go of loving her up close.

I’ve sat at the bedside of beloved friends or family members before. I watched my friend’s spirit spill into an inky sky after I let go of her hand. And while my mother patted and kissed her brother’s hands, I had the honor of sitting in his bright sunroom with my cousins as the seashell of Uncle Bob’s body lay in state on blue sky sheets and a puffy cloud stream of our favorite Gaines tales. “Top flight,” my grandfather, their father, would say. He was already airborne with love. These were healthy touchstones I wore like charms, all while knowing Mom’s journey would be her very own.

Mom was thrilled to be at the birth of my first two children. I’d be there for her angelic rebirth. I hoped I was prepared. A little experience, a positive attitude, a pleasant smile (Mom’s words), and good research would fill in the blanks if my hands were quiet. Right? I asked my sister for Mom’s Five Wishes list. The Advanced Directive was on the fridge, but Five Wishes list is a simple, comprehensive, and legal document my sister gave us all, and everyone should have for end-of-life matters, because it speaks to so many important details that can be difficult to navigate. 

No matter how much I prayed and listened to Source, appealed to the angelic realms to stretch time, read, researched Being Mortal, talked with her doctors, palliative caretakers, therapists, her chaplain, or hospice nurses, I just wasn’t ready. No matter how much I knew of the blissful reunion, specially feathered with the sweetness of a full 96 years, when it came down to it, it was letting go of my mama. The stories, physical dynamism, righteous ferocity, fits of giggles, and shared passion for this gorgeous earth—letting go of all that was—is hard. I made silent vows of legacy to use all her favorite words like “elegant,” “warsh the laundry,” or commenting on the sunset with “Isn’t that marvelous?” I’d bundle up in her best manners and use her most beautiful wrapping paper with satin ribbons for it all, yet, still, I was woefully, ridiculously ill-prepared. 

And I’m not even close to being done. I’d tell you more, share how she shaped me, but not now. Not today.

Suffice it to say, we packed up her place in a near-insane three days, and 367 days later, I’m still file box challenged. She’d told me after each move in my life to commit to unpacking at least a box a day. I’m a woman of metaphors. This should be easy for me, but I’m wrestling with the epic task. Simplify, Sibbett. Does it bring me joy? While the world is in the fires of transformation? The axis is shifting, poles are melting, and everywhere “out there,” rattles the hinges of my heart for attention, for more light, more love, too. I need space to sort, even while my heart leaps to dance. Am I to pack all her memories up with mine, or release them all? Store them? Which? Where? What is most important? You’re here with me on this, yes? What to keep. What to honor. How to live love forever.

I’ve asked. And this is what I know: I’m to get out of the box again. I’m being called to spin with the dancing mudras in space, time, and a new/ancient/timeless magical place, unbothered by anything other than giving respect to and being with the holiest of energies. I’m to shake this next leg in a place that is uniquely known for its fusion of dancing with the sacred. 

With the tenth anniversary of the Dancing Hands this past Mother’s Day, I have been asked to stretch and connect even more deeply. Remembering the sacredness of our All-Time, using every bit of learning that has come, and is still dancing my hands and my whole being for goodness’ sake, again, I open myself recommitted to every bit of new/ancient information for the highest and best good for one and all, individually and collectively, pulsing from the harmonic of Living Love. 

Safe space, sacred peace, and a circle of support that gives as profoundly as it receives. Guess what is calling? 

Bali 

What does Bali have to do with my mom? Mom loved our childhood friends. She particularly loved the Georges. Their boys were great friends with my brothers, and the youngest (Gregory) was in my class. When I read to Mom from Matt’s book, In Deep, the two weeks before she passed, she looked at me and told me how she always had a special fondness for her conversations with Matt, and then she said emphatically, “Janie, you must go to Bali.” 

“Alright,” I humored her.

“I mean it. Go to Bali,” she insisted.

“Okay,” I replied. “I’d love to.”

Maybe because she knows how my hands take me to the most beautiful places, but maybe also because my brother’s once best friend, Matt, has for nearly twenty years, made Bali his home, and she dearly wanted us to go travel to someplace tropical after she passed over.

I’ve not yet shared with the George Brothers what Mom had said (a deathbed wish can be a tall order), nor have I told my youngest brother—I only said I was thinking about Bali, and the George’s enthusiastically and kindly offered to work with me, to bring us to their sacred spaces to write, explore, dance, and shoot beautiful pictures. To listen more deeply at their temples of both land and sea, and meet the sacred light in between, as well as supporting our deepening connection with Source Energy? Yes, please. I crave quiet, peace, a safe space to put my heart to Source and be.

Am I ready to go? Now? Do you recall my messages before the pandemic, “to travel while (I) can, because soon you won’t be able to” and I listened and zipped through three retreats from Peru to Scotland, Hawai’i, and Tonga, and then the pandemic hit? It’s happening again, friends. I hear that call again, dear ones. And friends, to journey there with trusted souls and meet the beautiful people of Bali and their culture, with our protective and connected George Brothers, it might be just the well-being water we all need. More, do you know how much the Balinese people cherish their own dancing gifts and how they are an esteemed part of their ritual communion for All-That-Is, too? 

To be with friends and give thanks with prayerful connection, we will not only explore and daily dance with joy, beauty, trust, honor, and respect, but we will dive into the deeper waters of who we are, what we see, cherish, and how we give and receive our gifts. We’ll mine more than our post-Quanta notes into our retreat journals. With the guidance of Source and the Georges, we will tap into the soul of the language that weaves us together.

These two are beloved and esteemed writers and editors of longstanding magazines that have, for decades, celebrated the surf around the world. To dance and explore Bali with two kind souls who have co-created/produced projects that uplift international storytelling, as well as award-winning film and television, is beyond fun. Matt and Sam haven’t just swum the tides of life. They’ve adventured living on, surfing with, and carving out the waves for a rarer kind of spiritual athleticism. I look forward to your meeting their grace, humility, and constant service to a far greater good. Even for me, this is an opportunity and a gift of a lifetime, and their relief work over the years continues to touch my heart deeply. 

“As a professional surfer, journalist, and filmmaker, I’ve been lucky enough to travel the world in search of barefoot adventure, yet have been asked many times what has kept me coming back to the island of Bali time and time again. The answer is simple: nowhere else on earth have I experienced a place, a people, and a culture where spirituality and hospitality are so seamlessly integrated into everyday life…and so joyfully shared.” ~Sam George ( as seen paddling past one of the stunning temples in Bali below)

This journey will be part of the synthesis of what so many of us have been building toward. How to use our gifts, listen more deeply, and explore all the ways we can connect throughout our universe in appreciation and collaboration with the gifts of others that are so very needed on the planet right now. AND in one of the most beautiful places in the world, long a destination for spiritual travelers of all traditions. 

I’m not making this event fully public on our website, though we do have a poster below and a few teasers of what may be there. If you are interested in this autumn adventure, please contact me as soon as possible, and I’ll share the costs and more specifics about timing in the autumn. We will be staying in a 4-5-star compound the entire time, and we need to secure private or semi-private rooms right away. While we could accommodate a large group, Source sorts out the size, and no matter what, it will be top-notch and marvelously personal, reflecting our deepest connectivity and the exploration of dancing with all that you came to be on this planet.

Click here for more information. I look forward to unpacking the most beautiful dance for us all for love, for light, and for peace always.