There was something extra special about the market yesterday. Companionably cold and crisp, everyone was bundled up against this new nip in the air.
This brings up the OTHER side of living our truths: making room for others to live theirs. It can mean letting go of how we want them to be. But if we love, we must allow our loved ones to be who they were born to be—even if that makes us uncomfortable…
There was also a small herd of horses pastured on the four acres in front of my house. They were rather skittish at first but, slowly, we got to know each other. Then, in the middle of what could only be called a blizzard, a little one was born. I saw her with her mama just after the sun came up. This wasn’t good.
As most of you know, I didn’t paint for 26 years after college, where I was a painting and drawing major and a printmaking minor. What you may not know is that coming back to painting took a tremendous commitment and no small amount of effort.
I write about holding onto hope and belief; about taking the leap into darkness and having faith that something is there; about living our dreams, our truths…
It is silent beyond words. A raven flies above me and I HEAR its wings cutting through the sky, bringing an immediate and private smile to my lips.
Have any of you ever seen the kind of snow that I call Fairy Dust? It’s like ultra fine glitter falling from the sky and catching the light just so. Or sugar falling all around picking up the light.