It’s late evening moving into night and as is typical, I’m awake. This is becoming less and less the case as my body seems more inclined to sleep. There is a peace surrounding me the last few days and it is with me still. I am pressed to write and though the words continue to form into ideas and thoughts, I can’t bring them to the page. This frustrates me greatly but I suppose it can’t be rushed. These are the times I wish I could wander away from everything and find the solitude that would encourage this process. Perhaps all that would be accomplished would be loneliness without benefit of words. The need to wander is not as strong and I feel something telling me once again to wait and things will make themselves clear.

Tonight I was out walking with my son. It was peaceful, the type of whispering quiet that comes with the snow. We walked down through my favorite path, through the meadow. He told me about the fantasy land he has created there. I too feel something mystical when I walk down that path as if I have stepped into another world, waiting for the folk of another world to step forward and greet me. At times it almost seems to call me, as it clearly calls to my son as well. Perhaps the old ones wait for me there, on a path both real and mystical, to take me further on my journey.

It seems it’s always hard to write anything when I’m first out of bed with my cup of coffee in hand.  I spend that time blog browsing as sometimes I get shamefully behind with visits. Today one of my blogrollers had spring pictures posted of daffodils and other pics from his garden. It was a wonderful sight and it was almost as if I could smell the first air of spring.  Sometimes the smallest thing can give you a jump-start on a winters day.  

Today is my oldest sons birthday. He is twenty six.  He has not spoken to me for a year and I miss him terribly. He realized several years ago that I was not perfect and in fact was fallible like most people on this earth. Apparently it was more than he could bear and he has spoken to me on and off, more off since that time. I can still see the room where he was born and I can hear the high pitched giggle of the little blonde boy.  I am terribly proud of him despite our differences and I love him very much. I hope he knows that. Perhaps one day, as he grows a bit older, he will realize I did the best I could and frankly I did a pretty good job when he was growing up.  Life is the great teacher and he is young.  

My mind is wandering to many places today, to a birthing room, spring gardens and to far away places that call to me.  Amidst it all the everyday trappings of life remind me that I’m still here with a job to do.  

Today is warmer, the ice is melting off the walks and you can smell the first sign of spring in the air. It’s a welcome respite from the cold that will no doubt return at least for one last hurrah along with the classic spring blizzard.

I’ve been full of thoughts and ideas the last couple of days and feel the urge to write more and more. When it will begin I don’t know exactly but the urge is there. Last night I struggled with the idea of opening another blog for creative efforts as I feel there may be something new about to happen. I don’t know if you would call it fiction exactly but those who read it will surely think it so. After tossing the idea around I did open another blog, not public yet as it is empty. I’m hoping it does not fall by the side of the road like others ideas I’ve had.

What makes writing happen I have no idea. What makes a good writer is a question I have been tossing around in my head for days. Is it just in the eye of the beholder? The words that captivate us is a very individual thing. Each of us who puts our words on the page writes from someplace in the soul. We work the colors of our thoughts, ideas and dreams on the page, painting a picture for others, no matter how simple or complex.

My attempt, and right now I say attempt, will be just that, to paint a picture of those journeys I make and the places I visit, a storybook of sorts, one of reality and imagination. The world of imagination and reality touch one another crossing over into a world that waits for us to find it. We have only to open our eyes and minds and it will be there.

Today I spent part of the afternoon trying my hand at editing css, and just barely averted disaster. At one point I sat staring at my blog wondering what I was going to do. All is well thankfully, and I really must find someone who can create what it is I want. I put up the firefly header as it reminds me of the night and the warmth of summer, a nice thought in this cold weather. Fireflies are like natures fairies, their sparkling lights illuminating the night, their world small but brilliant. We are fortunate to get them off the deck but they are even more abundant in the meadow on the path that leads to my “fairy land.” Maybe this summer I’ll finally get going with pictures. I say that every year and every year nothing happens. The pictures I see best are the ones that come from within, the ones I describe in words. My talent does not lie in the lens of a camera. My father tried to teach me. After years of being chased around by a parent who sold every type of camera equipment known to man, but whose pictures were often candid and even more often not flattering, my taste for the camera was just not there. No, I think I’ll stick to painting my pictures and designing my blog with words, at least for now.

There are words have returned filling me again and I am trying desperately to put them on a page. I can hear them and speak them in my mind so I don’t know why this is so difficult. Some are just thoughts from a woman on a journey, some, stories from another time, fantasies or perhaps a buried memory from some time long ago. Maybe it’s February, this short month so filled with the bitter cold of winter and the anticipation of spring, making me restless and unsettled. I’m trying, the pages filled with words crossed out, changed and crossed out again, words close to my heart and soul, words that will tell a story when they are complete.  

Today is one of those days filled with craziness but somehow it’s all fun.  When I was younger I would have been hysterical by now but it is what it is.  My brother is about to grace my home for birthday dinner having been  invited  earlier this week. I placed my grocery order and lo and behold, it’s not here yet. If that isn’t enough, the grocery service just called to announce they will be 15 minutes later. I’ve pulled out the menu from the local Asian restaurant and will be calling for hors d’oeuvres if need be, hopefully not for dinner. Personally I’m starving as I’ve put off eating all day in anticipation of this meal filled with calories. My son is home from school, his food nicked by someone yet again, so at 14 going through another mammoth growth spurt, he’s about to eat the side off the house. Fortunately I think he just dozed off in the chair.  I’ve got the pans ready and the onions chopped.  Fortunately I bought a pie as though I’m a great cook I don’t do apple pie. If all else fails, we’ll start with dessert.

The last few days have been stressful and chaotic for me leaving me without the ability to put any words to the page. Things are settling and though exhausted I feel words starting to form as if by magic. I don’t know some days where they come from and when they leave, I’m never sure when they will return. The only thing that seems certain is that they will return.

There is something undeniable about the full moon and the energy it sends my way. No matter how I would rationalize it, each time it comes around,  it’s as if it reaches to the very center of my soul.  It lights up the sky and shines down on me carrying me with it and filling me with a  renewed supply of words, thoughts and stories from where I do not know. Perhaps it is the beautiful light, illuminating all that sits waiting inside. 

For those of you who watch the moon and feel it’s many energies, here is a link about the lunar eclipse tonight. For those whose time zone is past, sorry, I’ve been a bit preoccupied the past few days.

Do not believe in anything simply because you have heard it.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is spoken and rumored by many.
Do not believe in anything simply because it is found written in your religious books.
Do not believe in anything merely on the authority of your teachers and elders.
Do not believe in traditions because they have been handed down for many generations.
But after observation and analysis, when you find that anything agrees with reason and is conducive to the good and benefit of one and all, then accept it and live up to it.

Buddha

The last couple of days have been tiring, dealing with the everyday stresses of money and so forth. After I finally mellowed from my frenzy I realized how disconnected I had become from the things most important to me, and how empty I felt without them. Once the voice of the divine begins speaking to you it’s a hard thing to ignore. To put it away from you is to discard a part of yourself. Then there is that person we sometimes find, the one who holds a key to your innermost soul, one who helps you find the person you were meant to be. Whether near or far, once found they are a part of you forever, so again when disconnected a part of self is gone.

It feels like I am on another part of the journey, a less pleasant part perhaps but a journey nevertheless. It seems to be one of discovery of value, my value. I am struggling to understand life at the moment, one where I have worked so hard for everyone and feel so little value in return. Perhaps that’s life, I don’t know, but I know it is a turning point for me, one where my needs are once again pressing forward. They are not huge needs, just the need to feel valued, to feel cherished just once in this life. I think this is why I found that person who though far from me, has never felt like a stranger, and why one autumn day out on the trail, I knew without a doubt that I was not alone. They have come to cherish me, to remind me of my value and steady me on these tired days.

To be valued and cherished, To know our relative worth, merit and importance, and to be treated with affection and tenderness. All of us need to know and feel these things.

Sometimes our light goes out
but is blown into a flame by another human being.
Each of us owes deepest thanks
to those who have rekindled this light.”
(Albert Schweitzer)

Once again I found myself the recipient of more kind thoughts and recognition. I have been remiss in getting to this post and thanking Modern Musings Danielle for this. It never ceases to amaze me that people choose to reward me for writing down the things stirring deep in my soul and letting you all read them. There is so much more in there but I have not found a way to put it into words yet. Still this blog has been a huge beginning helping me express and open myself to all that I have given. Sometimes we find kindred spirits along the way and we learn we are not alone in this world. I thank everyone who takes the time to visit and if you enjoy it you can be sure I’ll keep writing it. 

Nice is an interesting thought. I’ve always been accused of being “too nice,” something painfully true and something hard to outgrow. It’s  been attached to me as a fault by most so receiving an award for it is lovely. I am trying to shed some of that niceness, as I’ve found too much of it is a bad thing. I spent much of my life apologizing to others when they should have been apologizing to me.  Niceness is something this world could use more of, however, as it seems kindness and good manners are in short supply.  Life is all about balance isn’t it? I will pass this along after my mind clears and I’ve had time to think.  Everyone on my blogroll is deserving.

Happy Valentines Day.

My house has been quiet for some time, free from the “visitors” that so often grace it. I’ve had nothing while sitting here writing and there have been no footsteps in the night. The last couple of days, however, my son reported seeing something, once again in the utility room. It was small, cat sized he thought. Our cats have been focusing on things as well, as cats do, looking at walls and watching things we can’t see.

Last night we had a peculiar smell off and on in the house. It was sweet at times and at other times foul. Each of us was aware of it thought not always at the same time. At bedtime my son and I heard a cat, nothing unusual as we have three. One of ours was in my daughters bedroom so I quickly opened the door, but she was sleeping. The other two were sitting in front of me in the hallway. It was not a sound of my cats, I know that sounds silly but I do know what mine sound like. It was low, as if it was in a room. I looked about and then my son and I stared back at one another. Then we heard it travel back downstairs.

I’ve never had an animal visit, at least not that I’m aware of, but then there is a first time for everything. It must have been the order of the night because as I drifted off to sleep I was awakened by an owl, one that must have been in the trees very close to the house. As I listened to its calls in the stillness of the cold night, there was a wonderful feeling that swept over me as if it was speaking to me. Even in the heaviness of my disturbed slumber I felt a beautiful energy with me.

As I said in a prior post, it’s been a weekend of feeling disconnected. Perhaps I was connected all along.

Yesterday I had the most disconnected feeling. It was not a bad feeling just as if I was floating between two worlds. I suppose this comes as no surprise given the strange tone of my posts. There was a strong presence with me, as if it was speaking through me. This all sounds very supernatural and this is not at all what I mean.  This feeling came from deep within as if it were calling to me, telling me not to be afraid, that all would be well. I still feel it with me today and I’m filled with words that are trying to make their way out in some sort of organized form. Perhaps that is the problem, this organization I so strive for. Perhaps I need to just sit with those words and let them happen and then look back at what has been written. 

There is also the need for quiet, to close my eyes and hear nothing but the whispers of the wind, the soft movement of the water, to feel the warmth of a fire and let that person hidden inside have some time to come forward and speak. The wanderer in my soul calls in her unmistakable voice bringing with her the urge that pushes against all that I have been taught to be these many years. It’s like a constant conflict moving inside of me. 

Today I also realized how much is frightens me to let go. Last night I realized, a bit late, that one of my favorite bloggers had written her last post. Her blog was a thing of beauty both in the words and the art she used to “grace” the pages. As I read the words I felt this pit in my stomach and the familiar anxiety sweep over me. Why was this so difficult for me. This is a good time for her one where she makes a turn on the road, pursuing the path of her own life. Later in the night as I thought about it I realized my own doubts were gnawing at me, wondering if the page of the blog is my last stop, something I will one day grow out of, or if I will  finally let go, digging deeper for words that can carry me down a new path. Certainly I’m not growing tired of being here. For now this is my haven, a place to write the words that come to me, sometimes at the strangest times of day. This past two days those things have probably seemed a bit disconnected.  Perhaps only through disconnection can we really find the things that help us connect, then only can we blossom, letting go and opening ourselves to all that is within us.

I saw this painting tonight and it made me stop and just look for the longest time. This beautiful meadow in sunrise where the fairies gather, whispering their secret words and moving softly in the morning breeze, have I known this place? Perhaps I want to know it, to drift away to the quiet lightness of this world.

Today I find myself surrounded by soulful thoughts.  I’ve been trying to write a letter to someone and I can’t think of how to go about it. There are things I wish to tell him, things I don’t know if he will understand.  I’m afraid if I don’t write it, something will happen and he will never know. Perhaps that is how it is supposed to be.  Perhaps it’s just me today, I’m feeling a bit reflective.  Do we fade away taking our hearts with us or do we open ourselves, touching others in a way that will perhaps change them forever?  Maybe these are just crazy ramblings of a woman on a winters day. Perhaps it is something greater speaking from within giving me a voice to do those things that lie deep within.

Last night I was talking to an elderly caller. We finished the business side of the call,  and then he asked if I wanted to hear a story. I love my older callers and so said yes.  He proceeded to tell me in great detail a story dating back to when he was nine years old. As I listened I realized how fast  life passes us by and how easy it is to forget.  As he spoke I found myself going back to my own childhood when things were simpler.

As I grow older I seem to want a quieter life, a more gentle life, leaving the fight to others. I want the time to just sit and savor the sounds of the day and night, the beauty of nature. I want to get to know the people who walk this earth, at least some of them, so we can remember in the beginning we all come from the same place and most of us want the same things. As the night went by,  I felt a strong tenderness around me, a strong desire to care for all those who might need it. Maybe it was the new moon, maybe the eclipse in Aquarius.  Maybe it was the caller reminding me of a time gone by. I’m not sure but it’s still with me today. Sometimes when I meditate I visualize pushing positive energy by covering my lake with jewels. Today when I close my eyes, I’m going to try sending that into the world. 

Sonnet of the Moon

by Charles Best, 1608

Look how the pale Queen of the silent night
doth cause the ocean to attend upon her,
and he, as long as she is in sight,
with his full tide is ready here to honor;

But when the silver waggon of the Moon
is mounted up so high he cannot follow,
the sea calls home his crystal waves to morn,
and with low ebb doth manifest his sorrow.

So you that are sovereign of my heart
have all my joys attending on your will,
when you return, their tide my heart doth fill.
So as you come and as you depart,
joys ebb and flow within my tender heart.

Since this is the month where flowers are given and received by so many I thought it might be worthwhile to post a ditty about some of the beauty we have in flowers.  I was thinking about violets this afternoon, as I watch the snow fall. We have violets all around us in the summer and I cant wait to see them.

Meaning of the Flower
General Violet- humility
White Violet –a chance with happiness
Blue Violet -alert, Faithful, always around

Violets are a very beautiful and mystifying flower. There are many tales alinksached to this flower. One roman ancient tale tells about some lovely maids who became the sufferers of Venus’ anger when cupid pronounced be more beautiful than her. In her jealousy venus beat the maidens until they turned blue and turned into violets. It is said if a person dreams of violets then it’s an indication towards success and moving ahead in life. A garland of violets worn around the head like a headband prevents one from getting dizzy. And these violet flowers are always considered as a good luck symbol for any woman. 

http://www.christmascarnivals.com/christmas-flowers/meaning-of-flowers/

The last tweny four hours have been spent obsessing over the look of my blog. I’ve driven myself thoroughly crazy and probably everyone who comes here as well. I’ve long been frustrated with trying to achieve a look that captures who I am. I wanted this blog to speak not only in words but visually. I poured over the custom themes finding a few that were perfect but I lack the website knowledge to set up and install. I also resented the need to pay up not only for customization but for a web-host to achieve my desired results. At one point I came very close to moving this to Blogger. Still, other than limited design options, I have been happy here at WP.

I’ve gone from light backgrounds to dark and back again over and over, and the last couple of days settled on a dark background reflecting at least, I felt, the title of my blog. As I looked at it however, I became increasingly dissatisfied as it seemed suffocating. As I added things to brighten it up, it became cluttered and new age, something that is so not me. I tried simplicity but still something was missing. Frustrated, I stormed off to work. During break I wandered back to one of the designs I had seen, clipped the header into my blog and suddenly it seemed to be better.

As I drove home from work this morning, thinking about the header, I realized what I needed all along was balance. I needed light with the dark, day with the night and color amidst the simplicity. I love the night, it’s my favorite time, solitary and peaceful, a time for all things mystical. But then I realized, I love the sunny days, the trees, flowers and sitting by the lake. It’s a time when the mystical workings of the night send their messages softly across the water by day. Without one, how can we appreciate the other.

So there you have it, the parable of the blog design, clarity from confusion. Who knew?

I’m not quite sure why I was taken by this picture when I saw it. It’s not my usual choice, being a pre raphaelite addict, but something about it held my gaze. As this fairy looks into the water to see whatever it is she seeks, I freely admit scrying is not a skill of mine. Most of my journeying is done with my eyes closed after I’ve put out the candles and walked from my space filled with an energy I can’t explain. This is when, if I’m fortunate I’m given pictures or visits, perhaps dreams of my asking, the most unusual.

Fire is my sign but water holds a peace for me and is a place I often connect strongly with things. Though I have never found a pond quite as lovely as this one, my lake holds all the magic I need. Now tonight as I sit with my candles ready to be lit, I wonder what will I will see when once again the candles go out and I find myself drifting away.

It’s quiet in my house, one of those treasured times I get all too rarely. Perhaps it will be a time of reflection, without the water, a time where I can ponder those things I’ve had little time for and speak aloud my wishes to the night and all those unseen who gather with me.