Open The Present Notes 01
Practicing Presence, Awakening the Senses
Dear friends,
Hello!
Welcome to “Open The Present Notes” a new monthly reflection!
In my intent to live a more embodied sensual life, with appreciation for the beauty of creation—in both the times that cause us to stop everything, and during the simplicity of ordinary, everyday living—I’m creating “Notes.” Every month I’ll share with you something that I see, hear, touch, taste, smell, and sense in the alive world we inhabit, plus one Wild Card practice that will vary depending on the season or what I’m pondering.
In Open the Present Notes, you’ll see short glimpses from my daily life. Touch and savor sensory moments. An invitation to you dear reader is to listen alongside me to your life too, so we each may become more personally, passionately, present in the one life we are given to live. Right here, right now.
This idea has been brewing for some time, inspired by writers and thinkers who share curated glimpses into their life or expertise. My spiritual practice is to open the present moment, with love and appreciation in my center, and deliver delight to the world—even when I suffer or grieve. The way to do this is embodied through my thoughts and actions, in the vibrational field I bring with me to everything and everyone, including the voice I use to talk to myself.
My hope is these small offerings may also spark something for you. Perhaps appreciation. Deepened awareness. Something simple. Sensory. Real. A cause to pause with someone or something in your beautiful life.
Kindly join me, as I show you what enlivens and captivates me, pausing me to ponder, pray, or meditate.
In a conversation last week, a friend said in response to me about something I shared, “I don’t pray or believe in “God.” I replied, I understand. And, the God I believe in is Love—the spirit that creates, enlivens the world, and is what happens between us. And prayer? The best way I understand this most of the time is simply a cry of the heart, which might be of anguish, or wonder.
I’m curious to hear about what you may experience too, as you practice opening the present moment with your senses. Our bodies are so amazing! Kindly share your experiences and thoughts in the comments.
Love,
Pegge
PS: I think my strongest—not favorite—sense is my nose, through the power of scent. What’s yours?
Open the Present Notes 01: January 2026
Hearing…
Musician Jon Batiste’s Beethoven Blues captivated me on my dad’s birthday last September, when I was seeking a song for a photo of him, listened to Batiste’s “Für Elise” and was floored when I heard a brief riff of “Happy Birthday” midway in the piece. I felt my dad’s love coursing through to me as if a spiritual hug, crossing the veil of life here, and whatever is next.
Last week I discovered Batiste created a companion to Beethoven Blues, named “Track by Track…” where he describes his creative process for each piece. He said, about his collaboration and conversation with “Für Elise,” now one of my now favorite music pieces:
“…Beethoven is special because he exists in the realm of the transcendent. He’s someone who channeled music that is much bigger than himself and bigger than music. He was a vessel for our collective consciousness to be elevated. And I think that when someone does that, it is an invitation for us to continue where they left off. It’s an invitation for us to see how we can manifest these things in our life through the divine that exists forever. …”
He went on to say, and this grabbed my imagination and pondering for the creative project I’m immersed in now:
“How can I be in conversation with Beethoven—not just a rendition but a collaboration?”
I think this too is the invitation for me, and perhaps you, too, with our life, creative expression, and work in the world. Let’s dance!
Seeing…
I’m writing every week this month with poet Rosemerry Wahtola Trommer’s “Writing From Rupture” group, and while listening to poems, the landscape beyond my windows captured my attention. During a twenty-minute write, inspired by “Fire” by Joy Harjo, the element of Air surprised me, rising from my viewpoint and embodied experience on a snow-flecked late afternoon in a far too cold Alaska winter.
Air,
I see you dance on the gray, weathered Trex deck, cleared by me less than an hour ago, swirling a thin membrane of snow. Patterns reveal your presence.
Presence. Pre-sense.
You’ve always been with me, have you not?
Life isn’t possible without you, though at times for hours, years, or many months, in our fumbling, we forget and then we stiffen, tighten, freeze up until the need to stretch becomes too great, or an accidental bend or slip awakens our slumbering.
In times like these, paused, welcoming you, beloved Air, your ongoing dance becomes visible.
Is it true that anything—or everything—is possible?
Wildfires blaze in your movement, so too does thaw, and freeze. You distinctly understand how to gift a refresh, or shape shift. Deliver us to distant shores, and even with a gust or whisper, claim a place at the table, signaling absence.
Oh, dear Breath, Air, rise in me!
Bring me ashore from my restless seeking, where you might delight me with awareness of your constant presence, and sweeping ability to destroy or renew, just. Like. That.
Oh dear Air, heal me!
Open the fissures in muscles, tendons, and my heart. Swirl anew in atoms and cells. Heal the neural pathways, trauma grooved. Help me hope again, and if you please, quicken my skin to embody a rambunckle of love—elemental, alive!
Smelling…
Oh coffee, oh caffeine, how I love your morning aroma and taste! To assist my energy levels, I’ve been waiting for 60-90 minutes after I awaken to indulge in my one French Press morning coffee with heavy cream, so it doesn’t affect my cortisol levels and adrenals, quite as much. Except, I know I need to quit caffeine entirely again, and it fast-tracked starting Monday morning when I began a two-week cleanse with my friend and writing pal, the amazing Shannon Nering who guides quarterly online cleanses through her GloKauai site. So, there’s no caffeine in my future right now, yet ohhh how I appreciate that scent and first sip. I am missing my morning cuppa and ritual, in the throes of letting it go, and seeking a good replacement! Any ideas? Zero caffeine, no sugar or dairy. Tea anyone?
Tasting…
On New Year’s Day, it’s family tradition that we make pigs in a blanket also called cabbage rolls, or as my dad would say with a twinkle in his eye, Sarma. As a kid, I couldn’t stomach cabbage, sauerkraut, tomato, rice, and beef or pork all rolled up and simmered, topped with a dollop of sour crème. Now though, I have my granny’s handwritten recipe, look forward to finding the biggest cabbage at the grocery store, and over the years, every time we would make Sarma, I would try to add to it—I don’t follow recipes very well—and ask my dad who was chef in charge, “Can I add a little garlic? What about some seasoning?” He’d always reply, “No, stick to the recipe.”
This year tradition called again, and again I made the Sarma solo, with memories accompanying me. Oh, my goodness! Simple ingredients, I followed the recipe with only minor deviations, and it’s so savor-full and delicious! I shared some, froze some, fed myself for a few days, and fingers-crossed, it continues the tradition to bring good fortune when made and enjoyed on January 1 of every new year!
Touching…
Labrador fur! Big Papi (aka Velvet Boy) and Minni Pearl, littermates, always at my side. I’ve known them since they were baby pups, and we became a family pack after they came to live with me when my dad died. I cannot imagine life without furry friends at my side—Big Papi is asleep on my foot as I type, keeping me anchored, warm. Every night we puppy pile for a while, their fur so soft, and, that’s everywhere.
Hint: Have you read Puppy Brain: How Our Dogs Learn, Think, and Love? Treat yourself and follow Kerry at The Nicholberry Dispatch!
Sensing…
For the past several months, I begin each day writing, working on the story I’ve been living for nearly 20 years since my teenage son died so unexpectedly by suicide. It’s twenty years later this month, and although I think certain numbered anniversaries create a false intensity, it’s astonishing to me that so much time has been lived.
The book is our ongoing story that I’ve lived—a memoir about mysticism and motherhood, and a connection that death didn’t stop. Kindly pray for me as I traverse these memories, and ink the truth I’ve lived and learned, in hopes that others might be comforted and trust the grief process however it shows up, learning to survive and thrive after devastating loss.
Wild Card: Dreaming your Ideal Day…
I’ve been designing my ideal life with an appreciative inquiry process and decided to play again with Jenny Blake’s Ideal Day Mad Lib to see what stayed the same and what changed for me over the years.
The process was so fun and insightful, I’m sharing it with you.
About the Ideal Day Mad Lib: you can complete it online and a copy will email to you or download the PDF and print it, then handwrite. I’ve done it both ways and for this purpose, prefer the online version, because then it easily copy and pasted into my chat with Claude.ai, since I had the typed version to easily share. I thought you might find this process fun and insightful too!
You’ll need three things to complete this process if you do all the parts: a phone, tablet or computer; the app, Claude.ai or access to the web browser version; paper and pens or a favorite journal.
Process
Find a quiet spot with an hour or more of uninterrupted free time
Wiggle around and shake like a dog to let go of anything you’ve already experienced this day, or any tension in your body
Settle yourself in a comfy spot, and offer a blessing in your own words, or with something like this:
May my heart and mind open to all possibility, and may my body help me dream and design my ideal day. May I remember what, where, and with whom I’ve experienced deep play, leisure, and meaning, and may I trust myself to be ruthlessly real in this exploration. I give thanks for my life as it is, has been, and can become.Complete your Ideal Day Mad Lib—don’t overthink your answers, you can always come back to it. Do your best to be curious and let your imagination be free to play and conjure any ideas without censoring
When you complete your Ideal Day Mad Lib, take a few minutes to make any notes in your journal or device about anything that surprised, deeply moved you, or even challenged you in the process so far!
Drink a glass of water, take a quick stretch. Smile. Breathe.
Gather the responses to your Ideal Day Mad Lib: Copy the emailed responses or text from the PDF version, or take photos of your handwritten Mad Lib.
Open a chat with Claude.ai (I’m specifically recommending Claude.ai because I’ve found conversations to be nuanced and thoughtful, like talking to a friend who quickly engages with complexity and ambiguity.)
Write this message to Claude (or adapt it), then paste your Ideal Day Mad Lib responses into the chat with Claude, and wait a minute for your reply!
Hi Claude, I am providing you with my responses to Jenny Blake’s Ideal Day Mad Lib. Please read them thoroughly, and then give me five insights or highlights from my answers, and five questions to ponder as I reflect about my ideal day. Please be curious and exploratory rather than prescriptive—I’m looking for what resonates or surprises, not advice.
Read Claude’s response, engage in a conversation if it is helpful, and notice your body sensations, and any insights bubbling to your awareness and understanding.
After you engage with Claude, offer a simple thank you for this day, the freedom to explore questions like these, and give yourself a hug. Over the coming week or weeks, give permission for any questions, insight, invitation, and excitement to make its way into your journal writing, when you go for a walk, dream at night, or simply let them simmer. Notice what returns and bubbles into your awareness! Perhaps share with a trusted friend, spiritual companion, coach, colleague, partner, and comment here if something comes awake in you that you’d like me to reply to or simply receive with a listening heart.
May peace and love be with you and yours this January.
So much love and gratitude,
Pegge