Hey You!


Tell me if you relate to the essence of this story….

It begins in our main floor bathroom.
At some point before we moved in, someone painted the claw foot bathtub.


I know, right?


The moment I started drawing baths with salts, I knew we would have a problem.


Of course, the bottom started to chip. Since I use the tub as a tool for energetic clearing for myself and others, this wasn’t just a little luxury lost, it was an impact to energetic resilience and my work.


I won’t lie – a part of me got annoyed at the density of Earth. Thoughts like, “Who would paint a BATHTUB?” and “Decay is so lame!” were in the mix.


I gathered the momentum to strip it one Saturday, two months ago.
The smelly orange goop took about half the paint off, leaving the rest…


Now my bathtub was even more unusable.


It was time to take a break.


I found my breath around the whole project.


And yes, #firstworldproblems. I reflected on all the icy buckets of water I’ve bathed in around the world. Felt the gratitude for the gift of this tool.


Gratitude for Water.


Blessings at the shores of Lake Michigan.


Prayers for water to be nourished and respected.


Honor to create baths for those I love.


Alchemy of tuning into the flowers and oils and salts to nourish them.
… And, in time, I found my elbow grease again!


Tried a second time.


Reminded myself of a lesson from one of the founders of the Findhorn community, when God instructed her to enjoy every little task, to really delight in the work of life, especially when it felt mundane.


This time, I found completion. The claw foot bathtub is ready to be of service once again.

So why on Earth am I sharing this little mundane moment from my life?
Because, this whole thing feels a lot like Conscious Leadership to me…


How sometimes we go to shed a layer of our old self, but it doesn’t quite slough all the way off.


We wait, and reflect, and feel the discomfort of half fresh beingness, and half dead, sticky, stuck stuff.
We know our potential – we see how beautiful it is underneath, but the ego clings and is not sure about fully surrendering to the new self.
Until a little linear time passes, a little clarity comes, enthusiasm is restored, and then, before you know it: the task is complete.
There are no balloons, no brass band, nothing to celebrate you – simply the knowing that you did your best. In your little corner of life, things are a bit better, even if no one else notices.


The ripple of impact comes in the miracle of how simple it really is:


Growing, and shedding.
Growing, and shedding.
Like everything.

So thanks, whoever painted my bathtub! Little did you know how much meaning I would nd in whatever inspired you.

Perhaps after all, everything is conspiring in our favor.

God sparking Memory into God, once again.


The Miracle of the Mundane.
Much love,
Aria