Welcoming the Sisters – Dawn and Dusk Devotionals

Devotional activities can run the gamut from simply sharing tea with the Powers to performing full-on choreographed theatrical productions. I leave the theater to the High Days. I prefer something much more low-key for daily devotions, and over time I’ve learned that it’s best if they’re tied to some activity I’d already be doing anyway. It’s also the best way I’ve found to seamlessly integrate devotions, and thus honoring the Powers, into my day-to-day life.

I’ve discussed mealtime offerings before. Now it’s time to talk about offerings for dawn and dusk. Like mealtime offerings, they’re fairly quick and easy. They’re also way more meaningful than we might otherwise think.

The Herald of Dawn 

The dawn goddess pops up all over the Indo-European world, indicating that She was very important. In fact, the case can be made that She was the most important goddess of the Proto-Indo-Europeans. She’s certainly the most easily reconstructed!

The PIE name She’s given in Deep Ancestors is Xáusōs, or “Rising”. PIE-descendant cultures honored Her too: She appears as the Greek Eos, the Roman Aurōra, the Vedic Uṣás, the Lithuanian Aušrine, and the Germanic Ōstara.

The ubiquity of Her worship in the ancient world makes total sense for a traveling, migratory people. After all, no matter where you go She still appears in the east to open the Gates of Dawn and usher in the coming day. PIE-descended hearth cultures sometimes associated Her with spring, too, as the dawn of the planting season out of the chaotic Fallow Time.

Which brings us to the topic of liminality. Honoring the dawn was incredibly common because it was a transitional, liminal period.  And that made it dangerous.

We hear the most about the ambivalence of betweens from Celtic tradition, but the care necessary when navigating treacherous liminal spaces is part of all PIE-descended cultures. Dawn is a between, a transition zone between night and day, and as such it’s a dangerous opening through which chaos could enter the world. By opening and closing dawn’s gates, though, the dawn goddess controls and safeguards that opening. She’s on the front lines, defending existence itself against the agents of chaos.

The Goddess of the Dawn, in all Her pastel glory.

Pretty heavy stuff for a Goddess almost invariably shown clad in pastel rainbows.

In the Vedas She (as Uṣás) is also associated with prosperity. We see that with the Germanic Ōstara too, through a connection to the fecundity of rabbits and chickens. Every new dawn brings us a new chance for success, prosperity, and acclaim in our lives.

The dawn goddess also illuminates and “wakes up” the world with Her coming. Because of that She pushes back the darkness of the unknown and heralds the coming of enlightenment, strength, action, and activity. She energizes and inspires us.

With all of that in mind it makes sense to respect Her and Her role in the world with every new day that dawns.

Twilight’s Mistress

I’ve been using Deep Ancestors as my primary guide to exploring PIE religious practice. It’s what inspired me to start working with the dawn goddess Xáusōs in the first place. The more I did, though, the more frustrated I got. It felt incomplete.

Celtic lore holds that dusk is just as much a between as dawn, just as dangerous. Dusk too is a liminal time. Simply ignoring the danger inherent in an unguarded liminality seems entirely out of character for the Proto-Indo-Europeans, especially considering the emphasis they put on guarding dawn. However, the surviving lore doesn’t mention the dawn goddesses pulling double duty here. Who guarded the gates at twilight?

So I did some research.

In Vedic lore, the dawn goddess Uṣás has a sister goddess called Ratri. Ratri is usually seen as a quieter, more restful figure than Uṣás. Still beautiful, spangled with stars as She is, but more reserved. She protects us against all night-time dangers, guarding the earth as it sleeps. She’s also associated with dewdrops, and together with Uṣás is said to boost vital energies.

Uṣás and Ratri together are considered “weavers of time and mothers of eternal law”, and in their progression illustrate the cohesion of the created order that sustains the earth. I found that rather significant to PIE practices in general, personally.

We get something similar from the Baltic region, where we have another set of sister dawn/dusk goddesses – Aušrinė and Vakarinė. Aušrinė (associated with the Morning Star) saw the sun goddess off on Her journey through the sky every morning, while Vakarinė (associated with the Evening Star) made Her bed every night.

Another example is found in Slavic lore. The Zorya are yet another set of sister-twins. The first – Zorya Utrennyaya, or the Morning Star – opens the gates to the Sun Palace at dawn. The other – Zorya Vechernyaya, or the Evening Star – closes the gates to the Sun Palace at dusk.

In addition to these duties the Zorya are together the guardians of a winged doomsday hound named Simargl. If Simargl breaks the chains binding him to the northern star Polaris, he’ll eat the constellation of Ursa Minor and end the world. Like Uṣás and Ratri, the Zorya are crucial to maintaining universal order.

The Roman goddess of the dawn, Aurōra, doesn’t have a twin sister. However, She was married to Astraeus, the god of dusk, and together They birthed the four winds. In an interesting link to the Baltic and Slavic lore, Astraeus was also seen as the father of the five “wandering” stars, one of which is the Morning/Evening Star Venus (not to be confused with the goddess of the same name, although there might be some syncretism there). In another interesting link, the Zorya sisters were also collectively called the Auroras.

There’s just too much material here for me to ignore. I’m perfectly comfy moving forward with the idea that there once was a god(dess) associated with twilight who has been lost over the years. I’m also perfectly comfy with considering that deity to be a female sibling, if not an outright twin, of Xáusōs.

I needed a name to call Her, though, since whatever the PIE peoples might have called Her has been long forgotten. After oodles of searching I finally broke down and contacted the author of Deep Ancestors,  Ceisiwr Serith, with a plea for assistance. I simply don’t understand PIE language and linguistics well enough yet to figure this out for myself. He graciously helped – even showed his work with verb conjugation so I could follow! – and suggested “Négwntī”.

This name has a lot going for it. Xáusōs means “Rising”, while Négwntī means “Becoming Dark”. They mirror each other nicely in translation. I also like that both are verbs, action words, because for me that really brings home the fact that They represent a process instead of something static. They embody abstract concepts of Time, Cycles, and Order. So Négwntī’s what I decided to go with.

Welcoming the Sisters

I honor three goddesses as part of my daily devotions, in addition to my Lady.

First of those is Wéstyā, the Proto-Indo-European goddess of the hearth. I honor Her with the mealtime offerings I introduced in a previous post. She helps us maintain order in the domestic sphere, in our homes and families and day-to-day life.

I also honor Xáusōs and Négwntī – They who maintain the progressive order of Night into Day and Day into Night. I love the way they bookend everything. My shrine reflects that.

My kitchen shrine.

My kitchen shrine. To the left is the teacup and saucer used to honor Xáusōs, in the middle is the statue before which I make offerings to Wéstyā, and to the right is the cup and saucer for Négwntī. I’m debating switching the cups around, to reflect the sun rising in the east, but I haven’t decided yet.

Morning Offerings

When I wake up I take care of my immediate needs, walk my dog, and blearily try to activate my brain. Prior to now, my waking up process has been sitting in front of my computer with a cup of tea until the caffeine jolts my system awake.

Now I wake up with tea (coffee would work too) and Dawn’s Lady instead.

It’s really simple. I set up Her cup and saucer, fix the tea, fill Her cup, and say the following over it:

Good morn to You, Herald of the Dawn!
I welcome Your rising as I welcome sun’s glory. 
May I meet all on my path with
An open hand, an open heart, and an open mind. 
Praise to Your name, She Who Opens the Way!

Then I fix a drink of my own, sit down, and quietly think about my day as I wake up. No computers, no distractions, just communing. It takes around 15 minutes.

When I’m done, I empty and wash the dishes I used and return them to their places.

Evening Offerings

Evening offerings follow the same pattern as the morning. Instead of going for the caffeine, though, I go for a nightcap. It’s usually something like Egyptian licorice or chamomile tea.

Whatever it is, I set that to brewing while I prepare Négwntī’s cup and saucer. Then I pour Her a cup, over which I say the following:

Good eve to You, Twilight’s Lady!
I welcome Your presence as I welcome night’s repose.
May You guard my sleep and guide my dreams
That I awaken refreshed and renewed when next I rise

Praise to Your name, She Who Closes the Day!

After that I quietly sip my own cup and cuddle my pupper – without computers or books or anything else – as I calm down enough to sleep. Sometimes that takes another cup of tea, and that’s ok. Whenever I’m ready, though, I clean the dishes I used and return them to their places.

By doing simple devotional activities at dawn, for meals, and at dusk I do up to five devotional activities per day. They’re so simple, though, and so integrated with what I’d already be doing, that I do them with a sense of joy instead of feeling obligated or pressured.

And that – prioritizing joy over pressure – is to my mind the key to regular devotional work. I don’t even have to memorize anything! As with my mealtime offering prayers, the prayers for Xáusōs and Négwntī are written on little cards I can just read off (which is especially handy before my morning caffeine!).

What might/does work for you? I’d love to see your takes in the comments!

 

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Seeing the Wheels

A close-up of the armillary sphere on my altar. It is on top of a black wooden box, and flanking it on either side at the bottom are two burning jar candles.

I recently felt a deep, overwhelming need to change up my altar. Specifically, I needed a statue to represent my Lady, Arianrhod.

Thing is, I couldn’t find anything that fit Her. The most common statue of Her simply doesn’t work for me. Nothing wrong with it – it’s beautiful work – but I can’t get over my quibbles with it enough to put it on my altar.

Maxine Miller's Arianrhod statue, in bronze, on a black background.

Maxine Miller’s Arianrhod statue.

Then I had a completely different kind of thought. One of the first concepts my Lady shared with me is that of the Center. It’s been fundamental to my worldview since I figured out what it is, and I always associate it with Her. She is the Lady of the Silver Wheel, after all!

Which is why an armillary sphere to represent Her on my altar is perfect.

A close-up of the armillary sphere on my altar. It is on top of a black wooden box, and flanking it on either side at the bottom are two burning jar candles.

The armillary sphere on my altar. Isn’t it awesome?

Once I got everything on my altar sorted and rearranged I lit some candles and settled in to spend some time with Her.

And then I had a vision. I Saw the Wheels, my Lady’s Wheels, and touched a Mystery.

After recovering a bit, I realized that this vision can be shared. You can have it too!

So here it is. I invite you to See the Wheels with me. If you don’t have an armillary sphere of your very own Google some images (or simply use the picture above as a reference) to see a manmade model of what I’m talking about. It’s worth the time.

The Vision

I open my eyes and gasp. I’m floating in space, surrounded on all sides by velvety black skies spangled with gleaming stars. They’re silver, yes, but also icy blue and blazing red and warming gold. Celestial fires burning, beacons in the dark.

A picture of a field of stars taken by the Hubble Telescope. These are from the Sagittarius sector.

Like this, all around me.

I wonder if I can reach out and cup one of those fires in the palm of my hand. They look so close I think maybe it’s possible. As I reach out I hear a voice like bells say “Not today!”, and lower my hands back to my sides. Maybe tomorrow?

I feel gentle winds caressing my skin and fluttering my hair. I’m confused for a second – since when did space have wind? – but I’m soon distracted by a glow at my feet. First I see a dot of light, growing ever larger, until it forms an arc. It suddenly clicks that I’m seeing part of a ring spinning around me. It contains all the colors I think I’ve ever seen, and it rotates clockwise as it rises to meet me. 

This is the first circle of the armillary sphere, the Wheel of the Day. In this Wheel is contained every moment of a day in my life. I even see a section of the Wheel that looks like my current vision! Sunrise and sunset, work and home and worship and sleep and play, all the seconds that make up my day, spin around me in a dance of light and shadow. 

Beyond the borders of the Wheel of the Day I see another glowing ring of light. It too rotates clockwise, although much slower, and it’s angled differently. This Wheel encompasses both the Wheel of the Day and me, still floating in the Center. It’s the Wheel of the Year! I see, in glorious procession, the flowers of Spring melting into the verdant fields of Summer, which meld into the golden fields of Autumn and then the barren snows of Winter. Along the ring are eight shining gems of light, and in them I see the colors of the surrounding seasons magnified and clarified. And I understand sabbat celebrations in a way I didn’t before. 

In a different part of the star-strewn velvet in which I float I see another arc rising, another Wheel spinning. It’s further out, and that ring encompasses me and the other two Wheels too. It too spins clockwise, but it’s offset from the others and rises on its own plane. Peering at it more closely I see it’s the Wheel of my Life. All the years I live, all together, with my memories in gleaming color and my future in shadows that are broken with seemingly random flashes of intense light. I realize that even here I can’t see my future clearly, because it’s not set. Those flares in the shadows show me that events are coming that cannot be changed, only managed, even if I can’t figure out what they are yet. My Lady’s presence surrounds me and I relax, knowing She is preparing me for them even now and will be with me when their time comes.

In yet another part of the sky I see another Wheel rising, on yet another plane. It too spins clockwise, but more slowly still. It gleams red like blood and flows like water, with an infinite number of glittering flecks swirling through it. This is the Wheel of the Ancestors. Every person who has ever lived is represented here, and the glittering flecks that glow most brightly are the people who have directly contributed to my line. They’re family! I see some flecks growing equally brightly, but in different hues, and know that these are family members of the heart instead of blood. It’s humbling to see all the people who have died so that I might live, and I promise to lift them high by living with honor and purpose. 

Beyond that Wheel I see another, also spinning and rising. This one is green and gold, copper and bronze, the dark brown of rich soil and the glowing red of molten lava. It glimmers with hidden gems and shines with metallics as it spins with aching slowness. This is the Wheel of the Land, and since Land moves in a timescale that’s hard to comprehend it’s only here that I can see it moving at all. It makes sense that this Wheel surrounds the Ancestors too, because without the Land the Ancestors would have no place to stand. I see the colors getting paler and dustier as this Wheel spins, like they’re losing saturation as it turns, and realize with a sinking sensation that I’m seeing the effects of humanity on the Earth. I see shrinking habitats and strip mines, pollution and disease and death, and acknowledge my contributions to the fading while vowing to do my very best to ease them.

At the very edges of everything I see another arc rising, another Wheel encompassing the whole. This one is crystalline and iridescent, and so bright that the only reason I can bear to gaze upon it is because I’m being allowed to See. This is the Wheel of the Gods, where all the divinities who have ever been dwell. I see Olympus, and Valhalla, and the Otherworld. I see nations rise and fall as the Gods play chess on a board, except I know both chess and boards and this is too incomprehensible to be either. The more I try to understand the brighter the light, until I have to blink to get the spots out of my eyes. 

Far beyond the edges of the crystalline Wheel of the Gods I see the shadows of other Wheels spinning, other cycles of which I am vaguely aware but are too distant for me to grasp. I feel blessed to have seen them at all.

I turn my attention back to myself, at the Center of all the spinning Wheels. With a bit of a jolt I realize that I too am a Wheel! I spread out my legs and arms like a starfish, like DaVinci’s Vitruvian Man, like a pentacle, and feel myself spinning within the Center of all the other Wheels. I peer into myself and see an endless number of Wheels spinning inside me too, each smaller than the last, and feel myself falling. Or am I flying? It’s hard to tell, and I start to get dizzy, so I pull my attention elsewhere.

I look at all of the Wheels together, for the smallest to the largest, and suddenly know that each and every Wheel’s spin is necessary to the spin of all of them. They’re interconnected and interdependent. Epiphany strikes. They’re not distinct Wheels at all! They’re all part of one big spiral! I hear my Lady’s laugh as Her hands continue smoothing and spinning the spiral, feel Her determination that it continues to spin, and know that I have a part to play in all of this too. But what?

I feel my Lady’s regard as She patiently waits for me to work through what I’m being shown. I gently spin for what feels like hours while I search for what She wants me to know, until suddenly it becomes obvious. By Centering myself, by opening myself to change while smoothing the spirals over which I have influence, I make Her job easier. In my own small way I contribute to the spinning of ALL the Wheels, even those I can’t clearly see, because I am one. I’m part of the whole. 

I hear her voice, full of pride, whisper “well done” as the Wheels flicker and vanish.

I open my eyes and gaze once more at the armillary sphere on my altar, serene and still as it represents this great Mystery.

 

Growing Devotions (Pt 1) – Understanding Devotions

Establishing a regular devotional practice is one of the most important – and definitely most basic – things a polytheist can do to honor their faith and the Powers with which they engage. It can also be one of the most challenging things to wrap our heads around. Those of us who have any experience with devotional traditions are usually more familiar with seeing that work handled by specialists if we ever see it done at all, and those of us with no devotional tradition to draw on are completely lost.

Sometimes it’s not that we don’t want to do the work, we simply don’t know what work to do.

Image

Ok, I’ve made this gorgeous altar – NOW what?

That’s actually ok. Not knowing where to start offers a fabulous opportunity to build a practice from the ground up that meets our needs.

Often we just need to get a handle on something to figure out our approach. Consider this series of posts your handle on devotions. I’m not claiming to be an expert, and my approach is in no way Trad/pantheon/culture/deity specific (outside of a little Celtic cosmology). However, it will get you started on a set of basic devotions that can be easily modified as needed or desired.

Before we talk about how to do them, though, we need to understand what they are.

What are Devotions?

“Devotion” is defined as “a feeling of strong love or loyalty”. “Devotions”, plural, are defined as “prayer, worship, or other religious activities done in private, rather than in a religious service”.

The words are related. After all, if we’re engaging in religious activities of  our own volition in the privacy of our own homes then obviously we feel strong love or loyalty to some aspect of our practice.

And yet it goes beyond that. Do you remember the movie Dogma? In one scene Bethany talks to a coworker about going to church:

Coworker: “Does [going to church] do anything for you?”
Bethany: “It gives me time to balance my checkbook every week.”
Coworker: “That’s what I’m saying. People don’t go to church to feel spiritual anymore.”
Bethany: “They go to church and feel bored.”

What Bethany’s missing is a sense of engagement. The types of traditional religious services most of us are familiar with don’t really have one. The priest lectures the crowd, maybe a choir sings, and attendees either pay attention to the guy at the front or fall asleep.

Image

This is not the face of a woman enthralled with what she’s doing.

Devotions are more personal, more one-and-one, and more engaging than the typical church model, and that’s a profound change is perspective.

As a hard polytheist I accept that the Powers with Whom I work are distinct individuals outside of me and that I can interact with Them. That’s fundamental – it’s what separates a hard polytheist from the other types of theists out there.

I know that if I listen, They will speak and I will eventually understand. That as long as I reach out, They will grasp my hand. That if I make time for Them, clear space in my day for Them, that They will fill up the empty places.

That’s what devotions do – they make space for the Powers to fill.

Why Should I Care?

Prioritizing a relationship with the Powers, nurturing a connection with Them, simply makes our lives better. To take it even further, by connecting with the Powers we connect with ourselves, each other, and our world in a deeper and more meaningful way.

So let’s break that down.

Connecting with the Powers Makes Our Lives Better

When I started out on this path 20 years ago damn near every book I found aimed at newbies assumed that most people were kind of lost and miserable. They were essentially magickal cookbooks – complete with lists upon lists of necessary tools and ingredients – with a veneer of faith kind of tacked on at the end. People would do the magick, notice an improvement in whatever area the magick addressed, and then have to keep doing the magick to keep the momentum going. It was a never-ending circle of “magick magick everything!”.

All this magick had to be constantly redone because it never dealt with the actual problem. Because the reason all these people were unhappy and unfulfilled? They were living out of balance with the Powers, and had spiritually advanced just enough to realize it but not enough to know what it meant or how to fix it. They were using magick to impose balance from the outside, and that never holds for long.

It’s been said that all blessings flow from Them. I don’t know if I’ll go quite that far – people have agency too, and sometimes good things randomly happen. However, I will say that the more balanced my relationships with Them become, and the more I trust where They lead me, the less magick I do. There’s no reason for me to go through a whole rigamarole when I just have to accept the multitude of gifts They offer. Nowadays the most I do is charge water with healing when I’m sick and do shielding work.

That’s not just me, either. As I’ve helped my students develop a more devotional relationship with the Powers I’ve watched their use of magick drop steadily too.

I sincerely believe – and have seen demonstrated – that a life lived in balance with the Powers is a life that works. Who doesn’t want that?

Connecting with the Powers Connects Us to Everything Else

I think many of us wrestle with feeling disconnected from the world around us. As a society we’re often closer to the people we watch on TV than we are to our neighbors, we check our phones for the weather instead of opening a window, and phone/computer interfacing often substitutes for face-to-face interaction. Polytheists have an extra disadvantage here, because our community is so scattered that getting together with like-minded people who share our worldview can be very rare indeed. Feeling disconnected and adrift is totally understandable, but can be harmful to us long-term. Fostering a connection with the Powers anchors us.

Through our connections with the Land Spirits we connect to the present moment, to our bodies, to the environment, to the wind and the rain and the dirt under our feet. By connecting with the Ancestors we connect to a sense of history, to the realization that humanity really is interdependent, to every heartbeat of every person who has ever lived. Connecting with the Gods connects us to possibility and growth and change, to the joy and price of knowledge, to hopes and visions and futures.

And every single devotional act we do deepens those connections.

Even better, the more individuals find their personal balance with the Powers, the closer humanity as a whole gets to balancing with the Powers. That improves things for everyone.

Really, I think the question here is not why should we care about doing devotions, but how can we not?

Approaching Devotions

The most common approach I’ve seen beginners take to developing a devotional practice seems to be going at it piece-meal, a little of this from over here and a bit of that from over there. A collage is created from different sources – even different cultures – that is in no way cohesive. The practices may even conflict, and trying to make them all fit together, and then fit into our modern life, often robs them of the very things we found appealing about them in the first place.

The biggest issue with the collage approach is that rarely do we have a cultural frame for what we use. Traditional devotional practices mirror cultural aspects even the traditional practitioners may have consciously forgotten. When we adopt a practice without understanding it, we also risk cultural appropriation. That’s never a good thing, but it’s especially bad when applied to our devotional work.

Luckily we have alternatives. Instead of acting like magpies and stealing anything shiny we can instead approach this in one of two ways.

1)      We can do our very best to reconstruct ancient practices from a specific culture, relying on all the hard data available and judiciously filling in gaps with culturally-similar practices as appropriate, even if we don’t fully understand why a specific practice was significant.

2)      We can learn the underlying philosophies of a specific culture as best we can and then develop a devotional practice based on those ideas, even if the specific practices themselves are historically incorrect.

For me it basically comes down to a decision between practice leading to understanding or understanding leading to practice. Both approaches have their issues and neither is inherently better than the other. I tend to go more with the second because that’s how my head works. I recommend going whichever way works with your head.

My Approach

I work within a mostly Celtic cosmology of Land/Sea/Sky. My symbol for that is the triquetra:

Apologies for my basic usage of Paint.

Apologies for my basic usage of Paint.

Here we see Land, Sea, and Sky – for devotional purposes Land Spirits, Ancestors, and Gods – all balanced out in this lovely flower shape. The circle on the outside further connecting the Three Realms symbolizes movement, the energy flowing between them.

And that red splotch in the center? That’s each individual person around whom the Realms spin. (That is not to say that humans are the center of everything, because they’re not. But for now we’re focusing on one individual human perspective.)

Think of each person as the hub of their own Wheel. They are the center point around which everything in their life turns. That center needs to be steady and strong to get everything spinning correctly.

So the first step of my approach to devotions focuses on helping us find a solid place within themselves on which to balance everything else. We have to find and maintain their Centers. This is key. Because each Center is in a different place, the balance we find with each of the Realms will be different too. My approach is all about striking an individual balance, as opposed to some sort of one-size-fits-all practice.

Once we sort out our Centers, we can then establish connections to the entities already sharing our physical space – the Land Spirits – and get comfortable with maintaining those relationships. When that’s stable we can add in a connection to our Ancestors, and learn how to keep all of those relationships stable simultaneously. When the Center and established connections are strong, then we can establish connections with the Gods and balance everything together.

Achieving balance between and within the Three Realms is imperative. It takes real dedication, and this work is ever really finished. It’s not a “done once, done forever” kind of deal. Our Centers can change, requiring rebalancing. Things from the outside can make us bobble somewhere, which means we have to fine-tune the whole system again. Things with which we balance ourselves – jobs and relationships and and health, for instance – can change with our without our consent and result in a system overhaul.

Thankfully balance is, in some ways, a self-regulating system. The more balanced everything is, the harder it is to lose the balance. What once sent our whole world into a tailspin can become something more easily juggled, because it’s just one thing as opposed to everything. We’re no longer establishing the balance, we’re simply maintaining it. And practicing that balance every day gives us the skills we need to cope with variables that bobble the system.

It might sound complicated. I promise, it’s really not. I’ll take us through each one of these steps, one by one, with lots of detail. Each will get their own post, giving me space to really go into detail for each. A final post will tie it all neatly together and provide tips on establishing a regular practice that works when time, money, and energy are all limited. I’ll also provide my perspective on how to tweak these basics to suit whatever devotions will best support your personal practice.

Good here? Time to move on to finding your Center!