To be tended to
There’s a restaurant my husband and I like to go to. This spot became our favorite in the years before Covid, in the years before it was discovered by others even with our own city. I loved its dreamy art deco décor, every detail curated. My husband loved the inventive ways that flavors and textures were combined to create a brilliant indulgent feast for the eyes and the palate. We both loved the tour we were able to go on of the different wine appellations, some that we had visited ourselves. Some that we dreamed of one day visiting. But, more than anything, what we experience when we step into this establishment is being well tended. And, I don't think I realized until we were well into the pandemic and had our first foray out into the world, unaccompanied by our children whom we had spent so much of all hours of our days tending, how much we needed that care ourselves.
There’s something about this being tended to that allows us to sink into ourselves, into the primal experiences of our being, to reminisce about the journeys we’ve had before, to dream about those that we hope are to come, and to be present to the experience of the now.
Our senses are heightened by the way the sunlight filters through the trees as the day dims and the string lights offer a gentle illumination to the wonders unfolding below. I invite us to slow down, to feel the textures on our tongue, to take in the flavors, distinct and melding, to honor the food and drink that both nourishes and delights all at once. We learn about the history of the vines, the struggles they have endured to persist, the ways in which these struggles, and the changing shape of the land and air have harnessed and caressed, pushed and strained and held for a time in order to now share their brilliance, their dirt, their history as it dances across our tongues.
This is the place where we reveal our secrets to each other, try out new things, share, and be, and allow together. Here, the tears spill from the corners of our eyes, we experience unbridled joy and longings met.
Over the past several months, I’ve been quietly debuting a new offering. Ghost Light Solo is a one-to-one accompaniment, a tour of one’s theater of self—past, present, and future. In this space, I tend to you, curating the space you enter, holding the light so that it may gently illuminate the wonders unfolding within you. I invite you to slow down, to feel into the textures and flavors of your inner self; to taste the dirt, and spice, and tenderness, and boldness that are borne of having been harnessed and caressed, pushed and strained. In Ghost Light Solo, you are held for a time so that you may come to know your history and the wisdom it offers you, your brilliance though sometimes masked by the darkness, and begin to discern how the parts of you shaped over the years may dance with the parts of you that you long to bring into the world now. In this space of acceptance, you may discover and reveal the secrets held by your inner knowing. You may experiment with new ways of being in the world.
Ghost Light Solo is a place where you will be tended to.
