Lights, sounds and smells pile up until the day feels like too much. Jeremy and I started this one debating the color of the set light, and it opened a conversation about how everything around us sets the tone for what we can receive.

Put every worry into a box, close its heavy lid, and watch it recede. Follow the natural rise and fall of your breath. Root a golden cord of light into the earth like the roots of a tree, and let a wave of relaxation roll from your crown to your toes. Touch the notch at the base of your throat. Name any tightness, pressure or buzz and watch it drift like clouds; you are the everlasting sky. Pat the chattering monkey mind on the head. Then call your scattered energy back from dinners, conversations and coffee shops.

The bowls began in C major, wandered into a brooding D minor, and came home to F major.