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Our Light That Shines. . . .
Sometimes we find when we are not on good terms with ourselves, life is not sympathetic to how we are feeling. Yet we fulfill what is demanded and later are grateful that someone stands beside us when we are in need. We hope that whatever we offered is regarded not with impatience we might have…
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Connected Still. . with AAhhh Mann and Amen. .
I wish I had remembered when I was trying to convince a young grandniece that indeed not all people know enough to worry and that worrying is an advanced form of thinking. How can you not worry when you have made babies and commitments? But when you are unsure of your own survival, it is…
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Ordinary, but real. . . . .
Again, in that conference time when all is quiet, you cannot go back to not knowing, once having attained what it is you know. Quantum, sumus, scimus. You are what you know. And what you know is yours forever. The talents, the Master spoke of, no one understood to teach. What moth and rust…
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It Takes Many Lifetimes to Learn. . . .
Word reaches that there are issues with some of my posts that are unreal; that perhaps I don’t know how the real world works. I write what I know, not hope or pretend. As Lawrence O’Donnell commented on President Biden’s Inaugural, experience is something you cannot teach. We always knew it, I think, just never…
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I held your heart in my hand . . . it is whole . . . .
We need to come to a place now and again when it is necessary to find a mind matched to ours so we can for all purposes say all that is heavy on our hearts. With no explanation necessary because our route has been followed step by step; to hear the words, I held your…
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When Scribing With Heart . . .
I wrote this letter to Jane and when I finished I realized that I scribed it. Because it was of my heart that I wrote, and it was a personal letter, I had to ask permission to post it. There are so many important sentences with lessons involved, that if I was a teacher with…
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To Speak With Heart . . .
(Because I feel iffy and at 6’s and 7’s, weighing in on me is where do I go. I scribed this journal entry December 26, 2020 and edited it for space. ) Sit a spell and listen. If we could enlighten you we would. If we had knowledge of this world to which you…
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To Answer. . . our very best. . .
This has been a hard year for all with unavoidable obstacles. We have wondered together if there would be Light beckoning to grant some reprieve during these holy days and holiday season. There was and is but we do not let up on our vigil until given word it is so. The journey has…
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We Are The Music. . . .
I was nicely surprised by my niece Linda to receive a photo of this wall quilt displayed in her home; from an exhibit in Oak Park, IL in 2012. Linda graciously nudged my memory to help remind me. As in all memories, coming forward, tightly wrapped, deep within time’s measure. . .familiar territories. . .…
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The Past Is Still Happening. . . .
I looked for the journal entry until I had to stop last night because of a heart willing itself to stop if I did not. My eldest son as well as a beloved friend once called my persevering tendency unnerving. Both vowed they could not live my way. I learned much later to…