Welcome

I'm Diana Teeters.

If we've never met, I'm grateful you've found your way here.

For more than a decade, my mornings have begun with A Course in Miracles. What started as a simple daily practice gradually became something I never anticipated.

Reflections began to emerge from the lessons. My flower photographs found their place alongside the words. Eventually, music became another language of prayer—first through chants and devotional songs, and later through prayer songs inspired by the Workbook.

I didn't set out to create a body of work or build a website. I simply kept showing up, allowing the practice to unfold in ways I could never have planned.

One lesson. One flower. One quiet morning at a time.

Everything here has grown from that daily practice of remembering wholeness.

A Longing for Peace

For much of my life, I knew myself through what I could accomplish.

I competed as a professional bowler, built businesses, and worked with technology. I enjoyed the challenges of learning, creating, and solving problems. I knew how to work hard and keep moving.

When I picked up a camera and began photographing, something else was beginning to stir. Alongside my love of creating, I felt a growing longing for peace of mind.

That longing gradually led me toward spiritual exploration. A Course in Miracles became a foundation of my daily practice. Later, Richard Rohr's Living School deepened my understanding of contemplative Christianity, grace, and the Christian mystical tradition. Meditation, breathwork, and the work of Dr. Joe Dispenza offered other ways to explore the relationship between mind, body, and spirit.

These paths have not given me all the answers. They have helped me become more comfortable living with the questions.

And they continue to remind me that peace may not be something we need to achieve.

Perhaps it is something we learn to uncover.

When Life Became the Teacher

In 2017, I was diagnosed with multiple sclerosis. A year later, after months of uncertainty, the diagnosis was changed at the Mayo Clinic to MOG antibody disease (MOGAD), a rare autoimmune neurological condition.

Illness interrupted the life I had known. It challenged my assumptions about control, independence, and what it meant to be well.

I would not romanticize that experience. There have been difficult days, fear, uncertainty, and times when all my spiritual understanding seemed to disappear.

But illness also brought questions I might never have stopped long enough to ask.

Who am I when I cannot do what I once did?

What remains when the familiar ways of defining myself begin to fall away?

Can I experience wholeness even when my body is struggling?

Over time, I began to understand healing differently. Not simply as the restoration of a body or the resolution of a problem, but as a growing willingness to meet life as it is, with greater tenderness and less resistance.

I am still learning.

And perhaps that is one of the greatest gifts this journey has offered me—the recognition that I do not have to be finished, fixed, or free of difficulty to experience peace.

The name Remembering Wholeness grew from that discovery.

Beauty as Prayer

Photography has been one of my most faithful companions.

In 2014, I began a photography blog called A Bloom a Day. For the first several years, I shared a flower photograph every day. What began as a creative commitment gradually became a practice of slowing down, paying attention, and discovering beauty in the smallest details.

The blog continues today, though the daily schedule has given way to a more natural rhythm. I still photograph flowers and share new images on A Bloom a Day whenever I feel inspired.

Through the camera, I've learned that beauty often reveals itself when I'm willing to linger. A flower doesn't ask me to understand it. It simply invites me to look.

Over time, photography became more than an artistic expression. It became a contemplative practice—a way of being present without needing to explain or accomplish anything.

Writing offers another kind of listening. Sometimes a reflection arises from a lesson. Sometimes it comes from a difficult experience, an unexpected insight, or an ordinary moment that asks for my attention.

And then there is music.

What began as simple chants and devotional songs gradually evolved into prayer songs inspired by A Course in Miracles. Through writing lyrics, shaping the musical direction, and listening for the feeling within each lesson, I've discovered another way to let the teachings move beyond intellectual understanding and into lived experience.

Photography helps me see. Writing helps me listen. Music gives prayer another voice.

These are not separate creative pursuits. They are different expressions of the same unfolding practice.

None of them requires me to have arrived anywhere.

They simply invite me to be present.

An Invitation

I don't share these reflections, photographs, and songs as someone who has figured everything out.

I share them as someone who continues to return to the practice, often discovering that what I thought I understood yesterday needs to be learned again today.

Some mornings bring clarity. Others bring questions. Some days the lesson comes easily, and on others I find myself resisting the very thing it is asking me to see.

Still, I return.

My hope is that this website offers a quiet place for others to explore their own remembering.

You might find something here in a reflection, a chant, a devotional song, or a prayer song. Perhaps a photograph will invite you to linger for a moment. Or maybe a few words will meet you exactly where you are.

There is no particular way to begin.

And there is nothing you need to accomplish while you're here.

If you arrive carrying questions, grief, fatigue, uncertainty, or simply a longing for a gentler way of living, I hope you'll feel welcome.

This site is one expression of my own remembering.

Not a finished story, but a living prayer.

Warmly,

Diana