The Water Well

Life is a river running through time; ebbing, flowing, curving, twisting, roiling and calm.

Out amidst the vastness of the mind, a figure floats amid the waters, dipping a quill into liquid and penning along the stars a story’s constellation, line by line.

With every story, the ink that runs and drips lives into existence, that tells of yesterdays and todays and tomorrows, no matter the color all comes from a well fed by the undercurrents of spirits traversing existence along those living waters like inks themselves.

So they exist alone and blended and those blendings blending until a universe bursts into existence with all creatures and stories separate yet entwined. And the words among the stars bleed and seep and drip onto the canvas of the mind as the pictures the mind’s eye sees within and then without.

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Facets of Drawing Out the Soul

Spirituality is the song that calls int he quiet of a raucous heart. 

Religion is the structure to protect those who have been lost in the lonely wild. 

Intimacy is the relationship for those who were left unloved and unwanted in the universe. 

Calling is the connection of them all intersecting with your truest core of the soul.

We Are Light

We all come into this world as perfect points of light.

As we grow, the darkness of the world encroaches, and we harden the walls of our hearts around our light to protect ourselves from that darkness. What we often fail to realize until years down the road is that, not only are we light, but our light is magnified by the light of those we surround ourselves by.

The walls of a hardened heart may protect but they also confine, they may hold the darkness without at bay but they strangle the life within.

Then, regardless of our best efforts, we are broken. From without or within our walls crack from the years of scoring, they shear down to the soul, through all of that suffocating protection down to what little light we have left… and it hurts.

From those cracks, other’s lights are given the chance to shine back in, and then our light has the chance to grow and shine back out. The walls begin crumbling as the light burns brighter and hotter through healing. There may always be dark clouds floating along our surface from the lives we have lived, but the shadows they cast will grow fainter and fainter as our light grows.

A heart that had been nothing but a lump of rock begins its journey back to a beautiful heavenly body by cracking and breaking and healing.

Who we are is not just a history of how we were treated but also a narrative of how we have treated ourselves and a prediction of how we will treat others.

Saving Orion

Orion is not only my son’s emotional support animal but also the trusted guardian of my son’s heart and soul. life.

He has an intestinal blockage that will in all likelihood require surgery to fix. My family has helped with the costs of attempting intravenous treatment the last several days but we still do not know if he will make it as I/we have been unable to afford the diagnostics to inform us of the totality of the blockage.

Orion has been an integral part of our family since he came to us and we need help saving his

HELP US SAVE ORION

Pinpricks of Light Lead to Dazzling Daybreaks

Even in the darkest night, there are stars.

And that darkest night will always be broken by a dawn.

The dark may temporarily swallow the light, but there will always come a time, when you turn your face from the darkness into the light, that you will see nothing but hope where before hope merely pricked the despair.

Circumstances ebb and flow, but invariably, it is our choice of focus that leads us.

Reblog: Christmas In The Family

It was almost Christmas, a time for holy nights of blue and white lights and Santa Claus coming to town. It was always her favorite time of year… But it’s only fair to start when things are supposed to start.

It was Christmas Eve a long time ago. Mommy had been pregnant with the baby coming in January, a three-year-old big brother bouncing around the house, and an angry Daddy. She was going to wait until after Christmas to get ready for the baby, she just needed to get through one thing at a time.

A small Christmas Eve dinner and early to bed didn’t want to keep Santa away with wide-awake eyes. The little boy laid down in bed, still and quiet, trying to be asleep so Christmas morning could hurry up and come. Down the hall, Mommy and Daddy worked on gifts.

Just after bedtime, Mommy said it was time. A neighbor watched the little boy, he was finally asleep, while Mommy and Daddy went to the hospital. The little baby girl was born just before midnight, their own little gift from God. Mommy called her Eve.

A long time later,, a little before Christmas, Mommy and Eve had a big fight. They loved each other, but they didn’t get along well. Mommy told Eve to go out. Mommy didn’t mean forever, but Eve thought she did. So Eve went away.

One, two, three, four, five, six years after Eve went away, just a little before Christmas Mommy got a present early. Some policemen came to Mommy’s door. They gave her The Most Beautiful Thing in the world and a book. Mommy read it, even though it was for me, but that’s okay, I’m a good sharer.

Mommy says the book is about Eve, that she wrote down all the stories about where she went and what she did when she left. What made her happy and what made her sad. Mommy says there are lots of letters in it I can read when I’m bigger. She cried at the end.

When I ask Mommy what The Most Beautiful Thing is, she gets a sad smile on her face and says she’ll tell me when I’m older. Everything is when I’m older and she put the book on a shelf with some dried up flowers that I can’t touch.

It was almost Christmas, a time for holy nights of blue and white lights and Santa Claus coming to town. It is always my favorite time of year because my birthday is just one, two, three, four days before Christmas. Mommy said Christmas runs in the family and that’s why she called me Holly Eve.