I continue my exploration of energy, relationships and the online world today. I talked to a friend last night about her experiences with Facebook. I told her how often people tell me their secrets and how I have grown weary of it. She told me about how a new acquaintance on Facebook told her about…
my allies are ancient and powerful if you knew i mean REALLY knew the degree to which i am protected you would stop shooting arrows my way the don’t just bounce off they are marked RETURN TO SENDER x3x3x3 (watch yourself) as for me i’ll be here dancing celebrating loving only love always in all…
All of the paradox and contradictions. I always wished I could make pretty things. I wish I was a pretty thing. But what’s true is I am messy and complicated. I make more messes. I make pretty messes. I’ve been doing some inner calibration lately and ran across this journal entry from earlier this year. …
“Look at the beautiful, green buds!” she exclaimed. “I worry for them. It’s only February,” he replied. Now, it’s nearly April and the leaves are unfurling and stretching to the sun. He’s not here to see that and yet it’s happening all the same. Faith trumps worry.
