Happy weekend, Rooted community. 🌿 I’m a mother. A daughter. A daughter-in-law. And as Mother’s Day rolls around again, I’m keenly aware of how complex this day can be—for me, and for so many of us. It can stir up grief. Longing. Regret. Discomfort. And there is space here for all of it. I also want to offer something else: mothering is more than being a mother. We can mother our own inner child. We can lean on Mother Earth and the steady holding she offers. We can listen to what our body is asking for as we navigate whatever relationship we have—right now, in this season—with the powerful energy of mothering and being mothered. Many of us are carrying losses, distances, or complications around mothering. And alongside that, we can still extend mothering—to ourselves, to each other, to the land beneath us. Both can be true at the same time. This year, with Gus and Izzy moved out of the Bay, my mom across the country on the East Coast, and real complexity with my mother-in-law right now, I’m in a strange in-between feeling. Today I’m heading out with a friend who has her own complicated relationship with this weekend. We’ll mother each other a little. We’ll let the land hold us. That feels like enough. Within the Neuro-Somatic Integration™ Framework, co-care doesn’t only flow downward from mother to child. It moves laterally—between friends, between strangers in shared moments, between us and the natural world. When the relationship we’re “supposed” to lean on is unavailable or complicated, regulation can still come from somewhere. Wherever you are in this, I invite you to share what feels generative. 🌱 Weekend Micro-Practice Take a few quiet minutes this weekend—ideally outside, with a hand on your heart or your feet on the ground—and let these questions land. Where do I most need mothering right now—and what part of me is most able to offer it? Is there a place on the land—a tree, a trail, a patch of sky—that feels like it holds me, even just a little? What does my body need today that has nothing to do with productivity, performance, or anyone else’s expectations?

I am seeing a trend and feeling it in my body. Several Community admins are feeling the weight of keeping a thriving community going. A few of the other communities I belong to are closing down or stepping back and it made me feel into my own body. I will continue to post the daily soundtrack, that is fun and low lift, but the daily dose the time and energy I beed to put into that is a lot! I put it out there and got little to no response. I will keep the community here, but frequency will slow down until I can get my full catalogue of Continuing Education Courses up with a launch date in September. My commitment is "I am a commitment to rooting in self before and while extending out, for the sake of balance, deepening my relationships and integrity in my work." to do that I need to be more attuned to myself and what the community is looking for. So folks daily soundtrack other NSI related posts maybe weekly but I am not going to over extend it doesn't seem to be landing at this time.

No script just a random thought to share about spring, practice and the rhythm of excitement! Would love to hear what your thoughts are? Where are you at?

I am really feeling this song and feeling like we all need more kindness! I have listed to it a few times this morning and I am leaning into gratitude and kindness today. Kindness to myself, the ones I love and the people who are evoking some harder feelings. I am posting both the recorded and the live versions. In the live you really feel the power of collective singing. What song is present for you today?

When was the last time you were still enough to watch something else move? Not scrolling. Not walking. Not multitasking. Just… watching. The wind passing through the leaves. A butterfly navigating the air. A stream finding its way over stones. There’s something that happens in the nervous system when we stop moving and let the world move around us. Something settles. Something opens. The body registers: I don’t have to be the thing in motion right now. And in that space, feelings we rarely make room for—connection, awe, peace—have a chance to arrive. I’ll name this personally: I tend to move fast. A lot. I’m someone who is often overextended—carrying more than my system has capacity for, running at a pace that my body didn’t choose. And I’m working, actively, to disrupt the pattern of over-extension with something deceptively simple: moments of attention and slowness. 🌱 Micro-Practice Find something alive and in motion—wind in the trees, a bird in flight, water moving over rocks, even clouds shifting, waves crashing. Set yourself somewhere you can be still. Give it five minutes. And just watch. What happens in my body when I stop being the thing in motion? What do I notice—in my breath, my shoulders, my pace of thought—when I let something else carry the movement? Is there a feeling that arrives when I watch long enough—connection, awe, peace, grief, relief? Can I let it be here without naming it too quickly? You don’t have to slow your whole life down today. Just slow your eyes. Let them land on something that’s already moving. And stay. 💬 Drop into the comments: - What’s one thing in the natural world you love to watch move? What does it do to you when you stay with it? - Do you tend to be the one in motion? What’s it like to practice letting something else carry the movement for a while? - Where’s your favorite place to be still—and what moves there?