In the days before Easter, just after the spring equinox, we sat with the mystery of rebirth. I teach that one note is never just one note: overtones are why a violin and a trumpet sound different on the same pitch.

Call to mind one thing in your life that's ready for newness. Drop a golden cord, braided if you like, into the earth, and box breathe on three, four or five counts. Find a pocket of energy you want to transform and let its charge dissolve down the cord. Invite a golden sun into that space, then watch a bud break through the ground and choose the color of its blossom. Stand in a sparkling spring rain. Breathe rose gold into your heart, then hold red root and violet crown at once.

The bowls kept circling the sacral center, the home of birth and new life, and I didn't catch why until afterward. Well, duh.