Journal of Sacred Work
Caregivers have superpowers! Radical Loving Care illuminates the divine truth that caregiving is not just a job. It is Sacred Work.
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Category: Meditations
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On Love: Live love, not fear. This is the center of all I believe in. If I fill my cup with Love, there is no room for anything else.
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Each of us has a much greater capacity for compassion than we realize. Compassion is not a finite liquid measured out in cubic centimeters. It is an endless expression of humanity fueled by Love. Our humanity is enhanced by how we care for those remote from us as well as those in front of us.
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Bed companies love to advertise the comfort of their mattresses. But true comfort arrives only in a bed that is safe, warm, surrounded with Love.
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Loving caregivers never underestimate the power of the will in healing.
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Part of the reason religious rituals were established was to help engage believers in the practice of love in the context of community. Some practices are approached resentfully as chores. Others may approach rituals with joy. The daily ritual that helps me the most is thirty minutes of running followed by twenty minutes of meditation.…
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Rituals are useful if they help us to align our energy with Love. The divine is always present. It is for us to engage a life of mindfulness that allows us to draw near to the divine.
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The life of the healthy soul recognizes the full spectrum of emotion that is life and embraces all of it with courage. The darkest colors of our life have their own poetry and their own unique ability to help us appreciate that mysterious universe we call our souls.
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What I want to hear is the sound of my own voice telling the truth to you & my soul.
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This week, look for the beauty that lives deeper than pretty smiles and smooth skin. For it is there that Love thrives, waiting for us to notice her
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As much as I love a rainy day, there is something magical about the environment when the sun emerges after rain – the air still heavy with moisture…droplets of water glistening on tree leaves and covering my old, weathered deck chair…the smell of the damp earth… the sweetest of a gift in the faint whisper…