A child is free to move around their world completely uninhibited by opinions and judgments. They are born with innocence and trust because they basically receive everything with love and acceptance. Each child truly is the center of this great big universe as they view the world around them with eyes wide open and hearts full of wonder.
A child’s view of things are always new. Nothing is avoided because nothing is feared. Life simply gives itself to the child.
My wish for you today is to allow your heart to become the trusting heart of a child. Trust is a conviction that does not falter. Let in the unknowing and enjoy the freedom it brings.
Trust knows truth; it is simple and uncomplicated.
Allow the child in you to be re-born.
In 1598 William Shakespeare wrote the following . . .
“Camomile, the more it is trodden on, the faster it grows”
(That is how they spelled Chamomile back then)
In our time, I’m thinking the more
we are trodden on the meaner we get.
I’m also thinking it doesn’t need to be that way.
Being trodden on forces change by changing a normal
expected pattern into a pattern of needing to think out of the box
so we grow in a different way.
Enjoy some Chamomile Tea
May we always write what we are afraid to write by putting one word after another. It’s that easy – and that hard.
Excerpt from my new book “My Radiant Hell – Healing Tidbits from a Wounded Soul” – Coming Soon.
“From my life experiences and subsequent healing, everything seems to begin and end right between the ears. That’s where the universe actually resides – within our minds. Letting go of mental limitations sets us free from the need to limit self. We heal when we make our mind up to do so. Easy to write – excruciatingly difficult to do.”
“Abuse was part of my life and keeping that “secret” separated me from others. My safe zone was nature, so as much as possible I kept my face toward the sky with the wind blowing through my hair, my mind and my heart. Love was only given to animals because they comforted me unconditionally.
What I discovered with the passing of time was revealing the abuse to others wasn’t the main contributing factor of my healing. The most powerful fuel was understanding a complicated yet simple, often forgotten “truth”.”
“I was and am stronger than the abuse“.
Excerpt from “My Radiant Hell – Healing Tidbits from a Wounded Soul.” Coming Soon
In a society that profits from your self-doubt,
liking yourself is a rebellious act.
Imagination is necessary for creativity, compassion, human connection, and our relationship with the “mystery of life”. The Native Americans (which I am deeply connected to) have a worldview in which faith, practice, and imagination work as a form of unity that helps lead us, in a spiritual way, to use our own sacred imagination in our communications with self and others. This is applicable to many forms of communications – including writing fiction and non-fiction.
It seems in fiction, the trail markers of what “really happened” don’t exist. The writer must bravely step into the wild unknown by having enough faith to know the imagination will provide what’s needed to create the meaning of the story. Now that’s an exercise in trust, deep listening, and active creation.
Along these lines, we’ve all seen articles or books that refer to “sacred wisdom” and “divine mysteries”. I personally believe that already resides in each of us every moment of our life and is based on the colorful patterns we’ve created from what we have learned, lived, released and hold close to our heart.
Where does that wisdom come from you ask?
I’ll quote Ram Dass”
“The most exquisite paradox… as soon as you give it all up, you can have it all. As long as you want power, you can’t have it. The minute you don’t want power, you’ll have more than you ever dreamed possible.”
To me, that means it’s already in each of us – the trick is to let it find you. Then let it out with all the love and trust that resides within.
When I come to the end of the road and the sun has set for me, I do not want dark rites full of gloom to fill the air. Cry only with tears of joy for my soul is about to be set free. Miss me a little – but not too long – and never with your head bent low. Look up into the sky – and then let me go.
Wish me goodbye by turning your face to the wind for me and let it blow through your hair and soul as you watch it mingle with the memories of the times we’ve shared in this life – but then let me go.
Don’t chain my memory down with excessive tears of grief. Life has been like a bottle of bubbly champagne all fizzed up with the laughter of silly times as well as the pinpricks of disappointment. And then let me go.
For this is a journey we all must take with our loved ones as well as alone. It’s all part of the master plan – we much each step on that road toward home. Remember, do not drown your sorrows with anger and grief. More importantly, do good deeds for others in my name – with the memory of my love and compassion.
Miss me a little but not to long – and then let me go.
Dedicated to Vera Engelmann – I will forever honor the amazing woman you are.
It has been said that “firewood is not the fire”.
Let’s think that through for a moment. Assuming this example is correct, firewood is the “fuel” to fire’s needs. Firewood would still be firewood without the fire and remains so until fire uses it. When fire uses the firewood to fuel itself, it morphs the firewood into ash. The fire actually changes the shape, look and feel of the firewood by destroying its previous existence as simple firewood. Interesting.
Let’s apply that to a second example, “anger is not violence”. Anger is the fuel violence needs. Anger would still be anger without violence, it remains the same until violence uses it. When violence seeks out and uses anger to fuel its violence, as with fire and firewood, violence changes the shape and look of anger by intensifying it to the level of abusive and harmful proportions unlike its previous existence as simple anger. Anger has now become buddies with violence. Violent anger spreads like wildfire – leaving only ashes. Interesting.
And true. As I was recovering from the abuse of my past, I was left with the metaphor of “ashes”. What do I do with these ashes? Study them, move them around, try to make sense of the patterns within the ash?
Eventually I decided to just kick the ash out of my life.
A disconnect has come between, who I am and wanna be.
An endless struggle it seems to be, likened to infinity.
If I choose between the two, will one be fake and one be true?
Or will I simply make ado, cause wannabe’s are never true.