Listening for What’s Next

There are seasons in life when something within us asks to be listened to not urgently, not loudly, but steadily and quietly. Often, we sense it before we can name it: a longing, a question, a subtle turning of the heart.

Before clarity comes, before decisions are made, there is an invitation simply to pause and listen.

At Listening Heart, I create spaces where you can attend to your life as it is, without pressure to arrive at answers. Listening is not about fixing or figuring things out; it’s about making room for what is already present and waiting to be heard.

You don’t need certainty to come.
You don’t need a plan or a goal.
You are welcome with whatever you carry – questions, gratitude, grief, hope, or quiet curiosity.

To support this kind of listening, I’m offering Listening for What’s Next, a gentle one-hour Zoom gathering for those who wish to listen together in a spacious, non-coercive way.

This is not a class or a workshop.
There’s nothing to prepare and nothing to perform.

Together, we’ll share a calm, unhurried time for reflection and silence. You’re welcome to speak or to remain quiet, to arrive late, or to leave early. Come exactly as you are.

Listening for What’s Next, Saturday, March 8, 2026, 1:30–2:00 PM Eastern
Online via Zoom (link sent after sign-up) Workshops and Events

There is a $5 suggested contribution to honor the space and preparation. If that creates any hesitation, you are still very welcome.

You might gently ask yourself:

  • What is asking for my attention right now?
  • What wants to be listened to before it is named or fixed?

If you feel drawn to listen in this way, I would be honored to share the space with you.

With care and presence,
Christy

When the World Feels Loud, Where Do You Listen?

Most of us are carrying more than we realize.

The news never really lets up. Conversations feel sharper than they used to. Even quiet moments and time meant for rest can feel crowded with worry or a low, unnamed grief. You may not be in crisis, exactly. Still, something feels off. Heavy. Unfinished.

Spiritual direction offers a different kind of space.

It isn’t about fixing anything or offering quick answers. There’s no pressure to have it all figured out. Instead, it’s a place to slow down and listen carefully and honestly to your life as it is. To the questions that keep returning. To the places where longing, meaning, or resistance are quietly taking shape beneath the surface.

What draws people to spiritual direction is rarely a single problem to solve. More often, it’s a sense that something important is trying to get their attention.

You might recognize it as
– a restlessness you can’t quite name
– a spiritual life that feels thin or stuck
– a growing tenderness toward the suffering of the world
– a longing for depth, steadiness, or clarity
– a desire to listen more honestly to your own inner life

Spiritual direction doesn’t rush these experiences or try to tidy them up. It meets them with patience, curiosity, and care.

Together, we listen for the wisdom that’s already there that is sometimes buried under fatigue, fear, or too much noise. Over time, this kind of listening can ease anxiety, build trust, and help you feel more grounded, even when the world itself feels uncertain.

If something in you stirs as you read or if there’s a quiet sense of yes, this matters this may be an invitation to you.

I offer a free 30-minute session as a gentle way to begin. No expectations. No pressure. Just space to slow down, breathe, and notice what wants to be spoken.

You don’t have to carry everything alone. Sometimes the first step is simply being listened to.

Blessings ~ Christy

Honoring the Saints, Ancestors, and Holy Ones

In many Christian churches, today is All Saints’ Day—a day set aside to honor all saints, known and unknown, in the Catholic, Lutheran, Anglican, and Methodist traditions. It’s a time to remember those who have reflected Divine love through their lives and who continue to companion and inspire us from beyond.

Yet this season of remembrance stretches far beyond one tradition. Across the world, many spiritual paths pause at this threshold between October and November to honor those who have gone before. In Mexico and Latin America, Día de los Muertos, the Day of the Dead, is a vibrant celebration of remembrance. Families create colorful altars adorned with marigolds, candles, photographs, and favorite foods of their loved ones—offering gratitude, laughter, and story to affirm that love is stronger than death.

In Celtic lands, the ancient festival of Samhain marks the turning of the year. It is said that during this time the veil between worlds grows thin and the ancestors draw near. Fires are kindled, candles lit, and prayers offered to honor those who have crossed into the mystery. Both Día de los Muertos and Samhain remind us that remembrance can be tender and joyful—that death is not an end but part of the great rhythm of life, death, and renewal.

All Saints’ Day, Día de los Muertos, and Samhain together invite us to pause and remember that the bonds of love and spirit do not end with death. The ancestors—our personal ones, our spiritual ones, and those of the wider human family—continue to surround us, offering quiet wisdom and strength.

I’m sharing this writing from Fr. Henri Nouwen, whose words beautifully express this sense of spiritual companionship:

Saintly Counselors

In the past, the saints had very much moved to the background of my consciousness. During the last few months, they re-entered my awareness as powerful guides on the way to God. I read the lives of many saints and great spiritual men and women, and it seems that they have become real members of my spiritual family, always present to offer suggestions, ideas, advice, consolation, courage, and strength. It is very hard to keep your heart and mind directed toward God when there are no examples to help you in your struggle. Without saints you easily settle for less-inspiring people and quickly follow the ways of others who for a while seem exciting but who are not able to offer lasting support. I am happy to have been able to restore my relationship with many great saintly men and women in history who, by their lives and works, can be real counselors to me.”
— Henri Nouwen

Who are your “saints”?

Some of my “saints” are traditional figures recognized by the Church, but others fall outside those boundaries: poets, mystics, teachers, ancestors, artists, and even elements of nature that awaken the sacred in me. Each carries a spark of Divine Love that continues to guide and companion me.

I invite you to take a few moments today for prayer or meditation. Calm yourself and take a few mindful breaths. Then ask, “Who wants to companion me today?” Spend time with the presence or energy that arises—perhaps through silence, journaling, or creative expression.

What qualities do your saints or ancestors embody? How might their wisdom be living on through you?

As we move through this season of remembrance, may we open our hearts to the communion of saints, ancestors, and holy ones who walk with us still. May their love, courage, and faith remind us of our own sacred belonging.

Blessings,

Christy

Practices of the Heart: Contemplation and Aging

Could practices of the heart—like contemplation, prayer, or creativity—help us meet aging with greater peace?

I recently attended a symposium for elder care professionals and the community. A couple of the topics sparked my interest, and I was especially eager to hear Dr. Paul Ford, PhD speak about artificial intelligence and the ethics of its use in healthcare. (I recently submitted an article on artificial intelligence in spiritual direction that will be published later this year—more to come on that!)

During one of the table conversations, an attendee told me about their family member who now lives in a care facility. There loved one struggles with both anxiety and dementia, a combination that brings frustration and heartache for everyone involved.

As I listened, I couldn’t help but wonder: what might help ease anxiety, even as memory begins to slip away? My mind kept circling back to the practices I know—contemplation, mindful breathing, meditation.

I began to imagine: if someone had lived with these practices daily, would they have a different way of meeting the confusion that comes with dementia? Could prayerful rhythms or mindful breathing offer a thread of calm to hold onto, even as so much else unravels?

And I wonder, too, about practices of the mind, heart, and body: walking the labyrinth, feeling the beat of a drum, or entering the creative flow of SoulCollage®. Could these embodied, soulful rhythms help us find steadiness and presence as we age? Could regular self-care sessions of Reiki bring calm, focus, and grounding?

I don’t have clear answers. There may be research unfolding even now that could shed light on these questions. What I can share is the value of grace and slowing down in my own life. I’ve also witnessed moments that suggest these practices matter—like the elderly woman with dementia who used a lap labyrinth with me. When I gently asked if she liked it, she looked at me and said one word: Yes.

The wondering itself feels important. Maybe these practices don’t prevent decline in a scientific or measurable way. Perhaps they shape the heart and spirit so that when decline comes, there is still a deeper ground of peace—an anchor in the True Self, rooted in the Spirit of God.

Walking away from the symposium, I carried both the sorrow of that story and the hope that small daily practices might matter more than we realize. Maybe one day science will confirm what so many of us intuitively sense: that the mind, body, and spirit are deeply connected in ways we don’t yet fully understand.

As I drove home, I reflected on my own journey with these practices and my continual walk with Spirit. For as long as I can remember, I’ve been a seeker. Spirit has always been with me—guiding, healing, and supporting me. I know that prayer and meditation ground me, and I know that when I neglect them, I quickly become off-center, worried, and fretful about the world as it is.

So, I leave you with this wondering: what practices—whether prayer, creativity, movement, or silence—are you weaving into your days now to tend your heart and mind for the years ahead?

I invite you to visit my Events page to discover something new to try.

When The Church You Chose No Longer Feels Like Home

As a teenager, I chose a church that became and still are the roots of faith and spiritual life. It shaped my early adulthood and led me to train as a teacher and youth minister, eager to share the love of God and help others discover their own spiritual home.

In my late twenties, when my marriage dissolved, that same church began to feel less welcoming. Whispers, the silent treatment and an unrenewed contracts made me realize I no longer belonged. For a long time, I carried this pain quietly, reluctant to share my story, grieving the loss of connection.

Spirit guided me onto a wider path. Zen meditation taught me silence, Buddhism opened me to compassion, the mysticism of Judaism and Islam revealed new layers of God’s mystery, and time in nature reminded me of the goodness woven into creation itself. Each step whispered: you are enough.

I have attempted to “reconnect” and “re-engage” only to face rejection again as I followed my heart’s path and embraced my evolving spirituality. Through it all, spiritual direction became a safe and sacred space to hold these questions and experiences, grieve what was lost, and trust that God’s love had never left me. Slowly, I realized that my belonging is not dependent on any one community but rests in the infinite embrace of the Divine. It rests in a felt sense and a knowing that rejection is not about me but about them. I admit that it isn’t easy to let go.

If you, too, have felt turned away by the church you once called home, know that you are not alone. Spiritual direction and/or spiritual coaching* offer a gentle, confidential space to be seen and heard, to explore your questions, and to listen to Spirit’s guidance in your life. There is a place for you at God’s table—however and wherever you seek it. You are welcome. You are enough. Always.

If you haven’t experienced a disconnection or judgement from your faith community, and want to deepen your spiritual connection with God, I am available to hold a non-judgmental and safe space for you to seek and explore. You, too, are welcome.

Blessings ~ Christy

(**Spiritual direction is not therapy and I am not a therapist nor is it business or life coaching. I don’t tell you what to do! Spiritual direction allows YOU to discover the answers to your questions you already have within you. I create spaces for deep listening, creativity, and gentle presence helping people to reconnect or in some cases, connect with what matters most.)