Learning to Receive

"By being receptive, we can avail ourselves of the spiritual wealth available to us." — Spirituality & Practice

September 11th, 2026

The giant aspen tree that fell across the driveway

📍House of Loto—Salida, Colorado, USA 🇺🇸

Greetings from the wilderness!

Last week, I shared what I’ve been learning about abundance being relational. Almost nothing meaningful in my life has been created by me alone, including Loto. Again and again, the richness of my life has emerged through relationship—with other people, with creation, with Creator.

So I've been asking myself lately: Am I willing to need other people?

I'm really good at being the person who helps. I can organize, host, create, problem-solve, take care of things. I like being capable and independent. Asking for help? Receiving it without feeling like I should immediately repay it? Let's just say I'm still practicing.

This summer gave me a rather literal lesson. Back in July, the day before hosting a Mothers WEaving retreat here at the House of Loto, in the aftermath of cutting up a tree that had fallen across my driveway, I fell and badly injured my right elbow—on my dominant arm. The arm I use for basically everything. I ended up with it in a sling for four weeks.

At first, I was incredibly frustrated. I had our Colorado-based Mothers coming the next day, and I had things to do. I was supposed to be the host. I was supposed to be taking care of things. Instead, I had no choice but to ask for help. And the irony wasn't lost on me.

Preparing to co-create at the Ark Valley Women in Business gathering at the House of Loto

Loto’s Mothers’ WEavings bring together people working across the spectrum of the healing arts—talented people from Mexico and the United States—to practice reciprocity with one another. And there I was, gathering people to explore giving and receiving while being physically incapable of doing everything myself.

The lesson wasn't subtle. What surprised me was how quickly my frustration began to feel like a gift. Because people showed up for me. They carried things. They prepared things. They helped with things I would normally have done myself without even thinking to ask. And I had to let them. For this people-pleasing high-achiever, that was a necessary experience.

That's the part I've been thinking about ever since. Allowing other people to contribute to our lives is part of being in relationship with them.

When I insist on doing everything myself, I may think I'm being strong, generous, or simply not wanting to burden anyone. But I'm also deciding that my role is to give and theirs is to receive. That's not reciprocity.

Real relationship requires movement in both directions. Sometimes I bring what I have. Sometimes you bring what you have. Sometimes I hold you. Sometimes you hold me. And sometimes the most generous thing I can do is stop insisting that I don't need anything and allow myself to receive what someone else genuinely wants to give.

Maybe that's why receiving can feel so vulnerable. Giving asks me to remain “capable.” Receiving asks me to be open. It asks me to trust and admit that there are things I cannot do alone.

At the waterfall during our latest Mothers WEaving (see my arm in the sling?)

And if abundance really is relational, maybe that's exactly the point. We aren't meant to have everything we need individually. We are meant to be able to contribute to one another's lives.

So this week, I'm sitting with a slightly different question than the one I asked last week. Not simply, What becomes possible when we bring what we have together? But: Am I willing to need other people—and am I willing to let them contribute to my life?

Because perhaps learning to receive isn't the opposite of generosity. Perhaps it's what allows reciprocity to begin.

With Love, unconditionally—

Jennifer

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