I’m trying something new: a homemade audio version of this newsletter—my first attempt at audio book narration ;)! It’s 9.5 minutes: just slightly sleepy me, my phone, and the words on the page. Click here to listen (it opens in a new window; I’ll embed it once I figure that out).

Hi, it's Alison,
 
The short days of November have arrived, and the winds of change continue to blow. So I've been prioritizing gentleness—asking “How are you, really?” and, when it feels right, following it up with “What can I do to support?" I've also been doing a lot of writing, sometimes collaboratively, sometimes with strangers—I'll share more about that in a bit.
 
So how are you, really? Right here, right now, as you bring awareness to this moment's body, heart, and mind, what do you notice?
 
If you're thinking to yourself, “Whew! I have no idea how to answer that,” you're not alone. Each of us moves through a wide range of emotions, moods, and perspectives each day, shaped by the ever-shifting conditions of our lives. That being said, if there is anything that I—or the Two Wings Mindfulness community!—can do to support you, please let me know. If you've been furloughed, if you're grieving, if money is tight: please reach out. And if you'd like to participate in one of the offerings listed below but finances are a concern, email me and we’ll make a plan that honors your current circumstances.
 
As Alexandra Blakeley writes in her song “Carry This All”:
 
You do not carry this all alone
This is way too big for you to carry this on your own
 
In this spirit of shared care, this newsletter offers:
~ a reflection on the communal power of journaling in the presence of people we've never met
~ a very brief survey about a possible 2026 offering
~ opportunities to connect— the Through the Threshold course deadline is coming soon!
~ a closing quote from R' Nachman of Bratslav
 
This human experience is way too big to carry alone—so let's explore together how, as Rumi offers, to gently walk each other home.
A Shared Journal Across Space and Time
Image item
Image description: A bench with a journal resting on it. The bench includes a plaque dedicated to a woman my age named Kathleen who died 12 years ago and who had “loved this view,” meaning the view from the bench of a meadow and a sycamore tree.
This past Saturday, I found my way to Maryland's Cromwell Valley Park, my mind full of, well, thoughts…maybe a torrential rainstorm of thoughts is a more accurate way of describing it: fast-paced thoughts about my to-do list, ruminatory thoughts about a conversation I wish I'd approached differently, meandering thoughts about political hope, energizing thoughts about the power of possibility.
 
So many compelling thoughts! The air felt crisp and clean and the trees were covered in technicolor fall leaves—but I barely noticed any of it.
 
And then I stopped in my tracks: someone had forgotten their journal on a bench. As a lifelong journaler who treasures the journals I've scribbled in since age five, it was clear what needed to be done: somehow find a way to return this journal to its owner. Gingerly opening the cover, it quickly became clear that this was no ordinary journal. The first page read: 

I understand why Kathleen cherished this view — in such a wonderful park with so many   areas of beauty, there is a solitude here — a vastness surrounding a gentle giant [the sycamore tree] - its coat of white and gray glows against the backdrop of the ever-changing seasons. Its bark like a puzzle that time wears away — yet it stands like a sturdy old friend.
 
There is a special solitude here — a place for quiet time, a place to think about what we are grateful for, who we love, who loves us, our dreams, our regrets. If you're so inclined, take a moment to share your thoughts in Kathleen's journal as you enjoy.

And then the journal entries began, from people of all ages and backgrounds—each of them, like me, having found their way to this bench, choosing to leave a note for fellow travelers to read: “a brief respite from this crazy world”…"so much healing takes place in nature"…"prayers of peace to Kathleen's family"…"I hope you feel the love up there every time someone sits on this bench."
 
Pausing to simply be—feeling and sensing the presence of so many kind-hearted people who had taken the time to write in this journal—tears flowed. My to-do list felt far away, replaced by the awareness that there are many layers of reality unfolding in any given moment: the great Mystery of it all.
 
And then a different kind of thought crossed my mind: Here I am, resting on this bench, fully alive in the here and now, held by nature, the cosmos, and the care of human beings who want to be loving and who want to be loved. So much is possible.
 
And so I added my own entry to the journal.
Photo of the Buddha Tree, a ponderosa pine in the Tusas Mountains of New Mexico - image taken by Melissa Suro
Image description: The view from the bench—a large sycamore tree in a meadow, its branches extended towards the sky.

A Survey: Connecting in Kindness
Sitting with the sycamore, our shared journal in my lap, I was reminded yet again how quiet connection nourishes us.
 
On that note, many of you have shared that you feel happier, more grounded, and more able to show up to life with integrity and presence—not to mention sustain a daily meditation practice—when you meditate with a group once a week.
 
I’m exploring a new offering for 2026 and would love your input: a yearlong weekly practice journey designed to support your mindfulness and deepen trust in your inner knowing.
 
Here’s a brief description of this yearlong communal adventure, which is for anyone seeking weekly inspiration, consistent practice support, and sangha connection throughout the year:
  • 20-minute weekly sessions on Zoom with guided meditation and short teachings on accessing the wisdom beneath our habitual patterns
  • Optional time for community discussion afterward
  • Sliding scale: $240–$540 for the full year ($20–$45/month)
And here’s the very brief survey—please complete it by next Monday, November 17 (the sooner the better!):
 
Your honest feedback helps me know whether this offering feels right to move forward with. Thank you.
 
For upcoming offerings, see below.

Upcoming Offerings

And from R' Nachman of Bratslav
 
Grant me the ability to be alone;
may it be my custom to go outdoors each day
among the trees and grass, among all growing things
and may I express there everything in my heart.

With care,

PS: As always, questions, reflections, or ideas for potential collaboration (in person or via Zoom!) are warmly welcome. Just reply to this email or email me at alison@twowingsmindfulness.com.
 
PPS: If you think a friend, family member, or colleague would be interested in one of these offerings, please forward this note along! They can also join the Two Wings mailing list here.
 
Two Wings Mindfulness
Washington, DC 20009, USA