08/10/2026
Dear Sparkling Circle of Light,
A cannonball in a lake.
My dancing hands slowed to tap this phrase into the comment section of a Noon Miracle workshop last night and then stopped. As the author read her piece that brought both whimsy and comfort, these words turned over and over like a skipping stone in my hand.
A cannonball in a lake
As quickly as I was splashed with the idyllic image, these five words rippled through my heart. In normal times, it would simply evoke shy little Janie making a rare splash, or any one of my three brothers launching themselves off the dock. Last night, however, despite the beauty of the piece contrasting a five-year-old who just wants to play with an adult not wanting to face the world, somehow the words imploded as they broke the surface.
The last time I danced, Source reminded us that words matter, what we say matters, what we hear has impact. It matters to our mind, body, spirit, and emotions. And though it may have grown to be an innocuous and delightful word in English slang in relation to water, the etymology of this dive since 1905 is more explosive. As we well know, every word must be examined in the context of the times. Katie, the writer, chose well. I, Jane, the listener, with this humble gift of the Dancing Hands, rode the ripples.
How are you? Each story shared last night was to light a torch for another splash against heartbreak. Old or fresh. A rebirth after loss. Loneliness transformed by community. Reassembling crushed shells into a gleaming path in the dark, with resilience.
The news. The news. The news has been bringing some to tuck their knees under their chin, cannonball style. Protecting hearts, protecting extremities, big splash time—changing the surface life for so many in outrageous sweeps of crazy talk, outrageous action, and grotesque displays of ghoulish disregard for land and humanity.
Are you breathing? Are you taking breaks for balance? Take another big breath now. I will breathe with you. We need to talk.
My family and longtime friends live in Los Angeles. We just celebrated our retreat in the San Diego area where other friends live. Whether you know it or not, LA IS the City of Angels. Whether you know it or not, San Diego has long held the greatest concentration of troops and military families in the United States, troops who have longer been tasked with peacekeeping service and protection more than war.
All of Southern California is sacred land to dreams and dreamers, where heaven meets the earth for those of us educated there and who love the significant energies that fill the world with rich, varied, and profoundly impactful storytellers, artists, and more good and kind people. It is no small place, nor any small price in an exchange for real or false flag chest-beating, as one dementia-addled man with a microphone said two nights ago. All land is sacred. Humanity under one sky is sacred. What are we even talking about here? We are not pawns. The water, the sky, the earth, our fire — This planet is not a game board for the bored billionaires.
When many in the “spiritual world” took the bait or money or both and aligned themselves to this red hat of hateful destruction, I stood up and railed, “No! We must call this sickness out. Always.” I know the stories of friends abused under those bruised and horrible souls. I lost followers, friends, and even family for sharing the truth. Yet, as each day’s spin cycles out more excuses for abuses, I will again say, “We ALL must stand up and call this sickness out.”
Every spiritual and political leader is not worth their weight in gold if they don’t do the research, ask the hard questions, find the truth, demand justice, integrity, compassion, and lawfulness for all, per the true laws of the land, not just one man who wants to be king or Jesus. This man and his cult of darkness have spun an ugly web of deceit, and I pledged when this gift came that I would only dance for the best and highest good for one and all, individually and collectively, always. While I wish I could only look at light, sometimes—these times—need us to use our strongest voices and our greatest strengths to stand up for what is right and rightly needed to keep our planet and all her beings in the true, incorruptible light of Love.
Many of you also know that I am a survivor. It’s not something you’ll read much about in the news, for reasons I’ll reveal when I can. But it’s well documented, and my work advocating for other survivors of intimate violence has spanned many decades. Many here may also be survivors, or have friends and family who are, too. If you are one, or if anyone you love is suffering from the recent news and the backlash of those rising to protect the predators, please know my heart is with you. Please continue to speak up for your balance and peace, and the compassionate care of those who have fallen prey to those stuck in the sickness of Contrast.
In the spiritual world, we are often encouraged to leave the past in the past, to focus on the light of now, and build toward the glorious future. I love and appreciate honest encouragement like this, and we employ it often. Yet, while hearts are hurting, who are we if we don’t caretake ourselves and one another with the greatest compassion and kindness if the wound reopens or becomes aggravated? I shared with some earlier: I may have taken a long shower last year, or last week and cleaned every bit of grubbiness, but the sweat of the last couple of days means I need to scrub my body again. Daily. I need to anoint myself with sleep and nourishment. Touching grass or looking up at the sky is helpful, too, but sometimes we need more. Sometimes we need smudging sage, meditation, sweatier movement, a moving meditation, a good rager, or cry. More spiritual showers!
I am called to dance with all of this, and am inviting you to a Jane’s Dancing Hands’ Quanta Circle this coming Friday night, and Saturday, and Sunday mornings, too. NEW TIMES so those who live overseas can join us. If you are in need and can’t quite afford this Quanta Circle, please reach out and let me know. I know this awful and unlawful war has made the cost of living insane in the U.S., so I do understand if you’d like to join but can’t. Simply write to us. There is homework before we begin, and each day/night for three days in a row. You also have to commit to at least two of the three sequential sessions, but you’d be most welcome.
Whether you can join us here or if you are a women, and come join us at our women’s retreat in Texas under a bigger sky (we may have one or two spots left!), I would love to invite you right now to join me in wrapping your own dancing heart around the world…
We send our love to all the souls in and out of the concentration camps or in any kind of war “games.”
May all find peace and freedom.
We send our love to friends and family of every color, every background, every gender or orientation.
May all find peace and freedom.
We send our love to every faith and even to the faithless.
May all find peace and freedom.
We send love to the Earth and all her beings, to remember our sacred duties in the balance of the elements, and to embrace stewardship and protection, not desecration.
May all find peace and freedom.
We send love to those who can read five words or these 1,000.
May you all find peace and freedom in the words:
YOU ARE LOVED.
Use your gifts for good. Raise your words for good. Lift up our global and cosmic family for goodness sake, and always remember we are here for the best and highest good — only the best and highest good—everything else we send to the light to be transmuted to light.
Be a cannonball in the lake for peace and freedom.
Now, tell me, how are you doing? Can you breathe a little deeper, feel the light a little brighter? Come. Dance. Share your heart. We have a lot of joy to plant, but first, let’s clear and clean our hearth and home.
I’ll see you in the astral wrap of more light, more love…
https://mailchi.mp/janesibbett/cannonball-in-the-lake-janes-dancing-hands-news?e=4eb56ffda9
