To Do or Not To Do? – Standing at the Crossroads of Service and Self

Yesterday was a day of joy — a whole Sunday spent with my daughter Karen and my grandchildren Josephine and Anton. Their laughter, questions, and little bursts of imagination reminded me that the real work of my life — TAG healing, storytelling, deep listening — is quietly shaping my auric field in ways I may not fully see, but can certainly feel.

And then Monday arrived with a choice:

Do I say yes to Laurie Marshal’s invitation to train as a Singing Tree Facilitator — a role that would open the door to intergenerational circles with grandmothers and grandchildren, Muslims and Christians, art and storytelling flowing together? Or do I say no — not because I don’t believe in the vision, but because I’m being called to another path right now: my Path of Alchemy, my newly purchased allotment, and the planting of medicinal herbs and flowers?

I know myself.
I can be tempted by every shining project that aligns with my values.
But alignment isn’t enough. Timing matters. Energy matters.
And so does the quiet voice that says: You can do both… but should you?

This morning, as if to underline the moment, an email from Richard Rudd arrived with Gene Key 4: A Universal Panacea – Intolerance → Understanding → Forgiveness. I haven’t yet sat in deep reflection with it, but even at first glance, its spectrum feels like a compass for my decision:

• Intolerance – saying “yes” or “no” from a place of inner rigidity, pressure, or the need to be right.

• Understanding – allowing myself to fully hear what my body, heart, and spirit need right now.

• Forgiveness – releasing the guilt of “not doing” and trusting that what is mine will wait for me.

Today’s reading of Mother Earth’s message in Sharon Riegie Maynard’s Learning from the Ancient Ones sharpened the question. Mother Earth reminds us that women are here to discern, disarm, direct, and cleanse — to say “NOT ALLOWED” to systems built by parasitic agendas. She tells us we hold the magic.

And magic needs tending.

For me, tending magic might mean fewer commitments with broader reach — and more work that deepens my roots, nourishes my own soil, and strengthens the quality of what I can offer when I do step into the public square. It might mean saying “not now” to a project I love, so that when I do say “yes,” I arrive whole, resourced, and luminous.

Perhaps the real decision is not between Doing or Not Doing, but between Doing from fullness and Doing from depletion.

And so I pause. I listen. I let the Field speak.
Because sometimes the most powerful “yes” begins with a gentle, grounded “no.”