The mystery of love is the mystery of our lives. The energy of love is what enriches our lives. We move from dust to dust, with love being the thing that matters, in between. Love. It’s the last word of this; my blog. And I realized this morning; that’s appropriate. Because love does, after all and in the end, remain the last word. Love makes us strong. Love lets us go on. Love makes us sing. My parents shared just shy of 64 years of a remarkable marriage. Just shy because my mother passed unexpectedly in December and their anniversary
Well, Thanksgiving is over and you know what that means…..the official start of the holiday season. If you can post these words somewhere, they can be a great reminder that will guide your holidays.
And every day the world will drag you by the hand, yelling, “This is important! And this is important! You need to worry about this! And this. And this. And this. And this.” And every day, it’s up to you to yank your hand back, put it in on your heart and say, “No. This is what’s important.” -Iain Thomas
I smudged my writing studio. I did it to clear any past energy and to start clean. Smudging is often done with sage. I infused mine with dried lavender tied in a smudging stick.
Have you ever stood at the base of a Redwood? Walked a path through a cathedral of Sequoia? Read in the shade of an Oak? Leaned against the trunk of a backyard tree at night when trees can feel your wishes?