Where Calmness Begins

A morning lesson from deer, danger, and one wise little dog.

Early this morning, I gently closed my eyes as I lifted the warm coffee mug to my lips. The aroma brought a smile to my face just before I opened my eyes and saw a small herd of deer gather in the grass across the road. My smile spread to my heart, then moved throughout my body.

There were five of them: two pregnant does and three yearlings. The does moved closer to me as they constantly grazed down the gradual slope toward where the grass was lusher behind a stand of bare beech trees and rhododendron along a gully.

The curiosity of the youngsters brought them down into the gully first and up onto the four feet of grass at the edge of the road.

Morning light played across their brown fur as they stepped carefully between fallen leaves and cold asphalt. Their hooves moved back and forth at the road’s edge, testing, retreating, trying again.

I felt my own body tighten as I watched.

The road was quiet, but I knew how quickly that could change. The hard surface, the curve from below, the obstructed view of the hill, the fragile bodies of those young deer—it all stirred a familiar anxiety in me.

My dog, Sugar, felt it too.

where calmness beginsShe suddenly stood at the window, alert and focused. A squirrel was helping itself to forbidden fruit on the songbird feeding platform, but Sugar ignored it completely. She had seen the deer.

Then she barked.

One strong, hearty warning.

The yearlings immediately stepped back from the road and moved toward the safety of their mothers. I exhaled, silently thanking Sugar. Just as quickly as she had leapt into action, she slipped back down onto the wooden floor at my feet and settled in for a nap.

The deer tried again.

This time, they were more cautious. The yearlings still led, practicing the survival skills they will need in this world. Their mothers followed, intent on feeding themselves and nourishing the fawns growing inside them.

I leaned forward in my chair to keep watching as they crossed onto the damp turf of my front lawn.

Then the first car rounded the hill.

The driver slowed. The deer quickened their pace.

In a few graceful seconds, they left the lush grass behind and moved toward the native hillside meadow, past the cherry laurel trees bursting with bright green leaves, and finally into the dark, cool cover of the conifer forest.

And I sat there with the lesson.

Panic had made my body tighten.

Calmness had helped me notice.

Sugar’s warning had been quick, clear, and useful. Then she let it go. The deer responded, adjusted, and moved on. No lingering drama. No wasted energy. Just awareness, action, and return.

Maybe calmness is not the absence of danger.

Maybe calmness is the ability to stay present enough to see what is actually happening—and to know when to bark, when to pause, and when to move toward safety.

Let Your Light Shine Forth

Let your light shine forth, dispelling the darkness of winter. There is much to learn from our dark side, but don’t we still want the light to reign?

December Can be Difficult

There is a dash to buy gifts, mail holiday cards, maintain inclusiveness, and exhibit a perfect attitude. Add in all those unfortunate birthdays, and it’s a bit too much.

How do you think you can make your life less hectic?

I’ve chosen to concentrate on what truly brings me joy. For example, I considered putting up the Christmas tree but then decided I wanted light, not the hassle of a decorated tree.

The alternative to a tree was more greenery inside and LED candles in my windows. It reminds me of my summer visits to Sweden, where I saw this tradition in practice. As Sweden is quite far north, the hours of daylight in the winter are few. So lights in the windows are cheerful and welcoming, lighting the way home.

Furthermore, I concentrated my decorations in my dining room. Christmas cards are a favorite activity for me. It allows me to check in with people I care about but don’t communicate with regularly. Since my birthday is in December, I place those cards next to the holiday cards. Sitting at the table, I light my Advent Wreath, enjoy the birds at my feeders, and feel the love radiating from the wishes of loved ones.

What About Your Internal Light?

Brightening the world with your bright white internal light is a great way to elevate your mood and the mood of others.

But how do you achieve this? It takes work, understanding yourself, contemplation, meditation, grounding, and dispelling the fear of knowing who you are.

I have found help from books, other lightworkers, and practice. Meditation helps me calm my inner critical voice. Reiki helps me learn how to move energy throughout my physical body. Journaling opens the door to my intuition.

Make a List of Your Spiritual Gifts

My friend and one of my spiritual helpers, Mary Toland Shaw, asked me to make this list. At first, I felt confused, but then I realized it was anything that filled my heart with joy.

  • Writing this blog
  • Smiling for no particular reason
  • Buying myself flowers
  • Talking to friends and family
  • Watching the birds at my feeders
  • Wearing bright colors

Here is a perfect example. I was in my local grocery store when my aunt called. As we conversed, I picked a bouquet and added it to my cart. Then as I neared the dairy section, a man I’d never seen before smiled at me and said, “Ever since you picked up those flowers, you’ve had this big smile on your face!”

We laughed and went on our separate missions to complete the shopping. Since it was my birthday, I picked out my free ice cream.

I wasn’t trying to be joyful. Instead, the circumstances allowed my inner white light to shine. But I made a conscious choice to create my environment.

Won’t you find ways to let your light shine forth? You will benefit. The people near you will benefit. And the ripple effect will make the world a brighter, happier place.

With love and compassion,
Dawn

From Fear to Joy in the Dentist’s Chair

My path from fear to joy in the dentist’s chair took many small steps. It certainly was aided by advancements in dentistry. I was not too fond of dental visits because I had a mouth full of cavities as a child. While city kids received fluoride in their drinking water, country kids like me didn’t. That’s my excuse. The reality of choices early in life is they can have consequences as we age.

From Fear to Joy in the Dentist’s Chair

I assembled all my dental paraphernalia to illustrate I take my dental health seriously. And also, I want to introduce a habit I’ve developed over the last year that makes my dental visits an absolute joy.

Most recently, I had two visits in seven calendar days. They were scaling and root deep cleaning to remove the tarter and bacteria that love to lurk at the gum line. Convention expects numerous injections to numb the entire area to effectively and quickly release the damaging plaque.

As a result of the meditation I use daily, my persona has transformed from a hurried doer to a calmer appreciator of rest. For example, I begin slow, shallow breathing after the hygienist numbs my gums with a topical. Then it returns to regular breathing, except I slowly extend my out-breath.

When the dentist tells me, “This is going to pinch,” I’m in the middle of a slow, steady out-breath. I don’t flinch, groan, or react to any injections throughout the procedure to numb half my mouth. That is one whole side, up and down. The slow breathing puts me in such a calm state, and I’m perfectly still. Fear is a distant memory.

I can honestly say during the first procedure; I never felt pain. Never.

Conversely, I felt pain radiating out my tongue toward the tip during the first injection at the second procedure. Yet, I didn’t perceive this as painful or upsetting. Why? Because I know the sensation will be short. After all, the purpose is to numb the area.

My Dentist’s Reaction

As I’m in this euphoric, meditative state, I seem to know what the dentist or hygienist needs me to do. So it took a few seconds before I realized the dentist was talking to me about my demeanor.

“I’ve never had a patient as calm as you during the numbing process. And I don’t like being on the receiving end, either. So how do you do it?”

I explained my slow breathing strategy.

“So you breathe deeply in and then slowly out,” she said.

“Not exactly. It’s more of a continuously shallow, slow breath.”

As the dentist and hygienist continue their animated banter, I drift into my peaceful, dreamlike state.

Parting Thoughts and Suggestions

It’s hard not to laugh a little and think how much they reminded me of myself when I was in the constantly doing mode. And that’s another helpful mindset in the dentist’s chair. It’s your mind, and you can take yourself somewhere else anytime you desire. Don’t worry. When they need you to move, they’ll let you know.

As a child, I was not too fond of dental appointments for a simple reason. I was stuck in the past, anticipating a repeat of an uncomfortable experience. However, if you can move your thought patterns from the past, where the source of fear exists, to the present, it’s simple to be in the peaceful, easy feeling of now.

The next time you walk into the room with the dentist’s chair, take a moment to look at the chair. When sitting in it, close your eyes, lean back, and feel the comfort of a perfectly designed piece of furniture. Then, take a deep breath and sink deeper into the luxury of the dentist’s chair. You have begun your journey from fear to joy in the dentist’s chair.