WE DO NOT REMEMBER DAYS, WE REMEMBER MOMENTS

The sacred moments, the moments of miracle, are often the everyday moments. (Frederick Buechner)

In Ireland, they had a name for it — and it was a breathtaking sight to see.
Waking up to those misty mornings quickly became my favorite part of the day.
The world would vanish under a blanket of fog, as if swallowed whole.
The stillness was otherworldly. Even the animals seemed to hold their breath.
The Irish call it Dragon’s Breath.
What a fitting name, I thought then — and still do.

I haven’t seen it in three years.
But this morning, my soul caught a glimpse of it — and for the next hour, I was transported.

I was using a gift from a soul sister who knew I needed a little extra care.
After being diagnosed with skin cancer, she offered me a healing experience — a massage or a facial — and though the last few weeks were filled with bandages and careful steps, today, just two days short of four weeks later, I said yes.
Yes to healing. Yes to release. Yes to me.

I chose the facial.
My face hasn’t seen moisturizer in forever, and masks — well, those are long behind me - I cannot remember when last I was hiding behind a mask.
But the clock is ticking, and tomorrow I turn sixty-six.
It has a nice ring to it.
I don’t feel old. I’m not young. I’m definitely not done. I am simply, well, here.
Here, on the cusp of sixty-something and sacred.

It greeted me even before I walked in — a photograph hanging in the restroom.
There it was: Dragon’s Breath.
A narrow lane. A leaning fence. Trees standing like silent sentinels in the mist.
My heart leapt — Ireland, again. My favorite time of day. My favorite version of me.

"Self-care is giving the world the best of you, instead of what's left of you." (Katie Reed)

Jennifer called me into her sacred space.

The room was softly lit. The music, gentle.
Her hands were warm and kind.
And I could feel it —
the weight of the last month, of the last few years, melting away,
just like the woods when the dragon comes to call.

I was swallowed whole.
And I landed in the softest of places —
surrounded by love, covered in compassion.
I floated in a fog of peace,
unsure of where I was or what time it was — and I didn’t care.

"When you extend kindness to yourself," said my beloved Irish John O’Donohue,
"you create a sanctuary of love, acceptance, and peace within your own heart."

And so this morning, I made a promise to myself:
To return to this sanctuary — once a month, without fail.
Because this isn’t just self-care. This is soul care.

"When you recover or discover something that nourishes your soul and brings joy,"
"care enough about yourself to make room for it in your life." (Jean Shinoda Bolen)

We go so long thinking we’re fine,
until something touches us so deeply that we realize:
I have been without love like this for far too long.

Oscar Wilde — yes, another Irishman — said:

“To love oneself is the beginning of a lifelong romance.”

And honestly, I’m long overdue for some romance.