conferring in the space between the space between
i believe
our souls talk to each other
late at night
when we aren’t watching
i wish i could be a bit more privy to those conversations
Similar Posts
meandering
slurping chai from a saucer like a kitten (and the blushing) falling in to your gravity meandering through the conversation the day your journal (this still leaves me smiling) me, drawn to the texture of your opinions and passions (and then the kissing)
Share this:
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
- Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
- Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
- Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
- Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
- Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
- Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
divine | faith | healing | love | photography | the delicious now
falling together
“Some things fall apart so better things can fall together.” ~Marilyn Monroe I had a dream that I was the Queen of Wands. Walking with great purpose into the darkness with my torch burning brightly, I offered Light to whomever needed it. I was strong but young and a bit foolish. Sometimes, I would forget…
Share this:
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
- Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
- Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
- Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
- Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
- Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
- Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
"Rest" for Photo Friday
A turtle rests in the spring sunshine today at the Japanese Garden in Seattle, WA Giovanna didn’t rest at all. She was busy as a toddler should be. A beautiful Coi posed nicely for the camera. If I were a Fairie I would rest on the moss ‘neath these beautiful flowers. So lovely.
Share this:
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
- Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
- Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
- Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
- Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
- Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
- Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
the truth of the happiness of womxn
I read from her chapter on “Coming Home” and about cutting away what is superfluous to make space for new beginnings.
Share this:
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
- Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
- Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
- Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
- Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
- Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
- Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
divine am i
divine me when i was little Whenever I have moments of self-doubt or unworthiness, I take a moment to remember that I am truly a Divine creation, that every cell of my body is part of the body of Spirit. Even my fears and illusions of separation are part of my Divinity. They are the…
Share this:
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
- Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
- Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
- Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
- Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
- Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
- Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email
grace | healing | love | mystery | photography | projects | self-excavation | the delicious now | truth
cultural alanon [healing in spaciousness]
my country my culture is like an alcoholic parent on a bender taking taking taking drinking the last drop and destroying and we, like the little orphans we are like hungry birds chirping squawking pecking clawing for attention for resources for space to be heard to be seen to be loved no space no recess…
Share this:
- Click to share on Pinterest (Opens in new window) Pinterest
- Click to share on Facebook (Opens in new window) Facebook
- Click to share on Reddit (Opens in new window) Reddit
- Click to share on Bluesky (Opens in new window) Bluesky
- Click to share on Threads (Opens in new window) Threads
- Click to share on LinkedIn (Opens in new window) LinkedIn
- Click to share on X (Opens in new window) X
- Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email