Posts In: serenity

9/3/2018 UPDATE! This offering is currently on hold!

A couple weeks ago, I held an open house. It was so well received I am going to continue the practice to make the bowls available to people seeking a sanctuary from the daily stresses of life…or to just be. 

You are cordially invited to drop in to my studio every Friday between 9am and Noon!

I’m calling it Open House, Open Heart. Come in and meditate, sit with the bowls, learn how to play a bowl, shop bowls, have a cup of tea, talk to me….whatever you need… my door is open! Open your heart and take time to nurture your wellbeing. 

Open House, Open Heart will be available every Friday indefinitely, unless I have something else listed on the Events page. I will keep it in my schedule on the website and let you know if I can’t make a week.

The Singing Bowl Studio
at 293 Central Park West, between 89th & 90th

I honestly had no idea what to expect when I was invited to facilitate a group meditation deep in the woods of the Catskill Mountains.  Carting my bowls up the drive, I’m greeted by the statuesque Melinda, her friendly dog and a brown rabbit hanging out near the front door. The rabbit seems oddly relaxed, vacillating between twitching and stillness. It’s staring at me and I’m curious as to why it’s not bolting with an active barking dog so close by.

“I think it’s the same one I saved”, says Melinda, as we both stand watching the rabbit watching us.

About a year ago, she spotted a rabbit caught in a fence on her property, its leg wrapped and tangled in wire. She managed to tenderly free it, without injury. Ever since then Melinda has become accustomed to its frequent, fearless visits into her garden and on the back porch. While setting up the bowls inside, I watch as the bunny stares at me again, now through the glass of the studio door.

This is a good omen. This is going to be a special night.

I could have stayed in her studio for hours, days…The silence was delicious. In every corner and crevice were layers upon layers of texture, paint, simplicity, complexity, handwritten messages, paper, brushes, beads, teeth, and rocks; laying among found objects haphazardly placed just so.

Being here brings out a deep sadness as everywhere I look I’m reminded of a friendship lost long ago. In this same moment, in an instant of a breath, I welcome the peace of the birth of a new kinship, a connection freshly formed.

As Melinda watches on, another part of me is tenderly freed.

melindastickneygibson.com

Recently I had the opportunity to self heal and reflect spending quiet time at the beach. The skies were overcast with an occasional appearance of the sun peeking through a gray cloud. It was quite an experience, being the only soul on a beach miles long, communing with the seagulls, terns, soft sand, the sky and the bluest of blue ocean that seemed to stretch onto infinity.

This time reminded and connected me of the reason why I love working with singing bowls so much. When I speak though the bowls there is need for no words, no language other than that of Liquid Language of Light and of Love. Transformation and reflection possible without every the need to utter a single word. A language first learned early on, rediscovered and recently remembered in the bluest of blue eyes of my beautiful Teacher.

A place so still, so serene in Trust and Faith I could walk up to a young doe, placing my hand on her head, stroking her behind her ears as her mother occasionally looked up from her morning meal.

How to put into words watching the sand dance in my bowl as I play then forming mandalas when it surrenders into silence. The jumping of sea water from my bowl as I place it on my husband’s knee, sore from the joy of years of bouncing twins on it.