Hello Hibiscus! I hold an empty cup to capture morning’s light. And blush as it smiles down upon my small place. The eight-legged ball of fire casts a line into the early breezes. Like a voyeur I watch the romance of wing and bloom through my window of wonder. Kissing every blossom it moves quickly and efficiently. A work of flame and cotton candy! My progress is slowed by the sidewalk sentry. What? Do I know the password? Let me think….. Is it squirrel stew? No? Wait! Is it squirrel gumbo? NO? Awwwww…….nuts!! I can’t remember.. WHAT?! THAT’S the password? … Continue reading Saturday’s Pallette/Photos of Simple Life
I took my regular tri weekly neighborhood roundabout this morning and grabbed my camera on the way out. We had a shift in weather with some rain, then hot once more; and I knew there would be fungus opportunities out there. There were a few other things as well. The fungus first. There was so much diversity among the little sprouts today, as though self expression was the order of the day in the mushroom world. From the traipsing troupe… There was character in every one. But the glory moment for me was finding this beautiful blue heron, keeping watch … Continue reading The Watcher/Blue Heron by the Lake Photos
I have long had an obsession with photographing mushrooms. If you sift through the dozens of boxes and many more photo albums I have from back-in-the-day (it was indeed a Wednesday, Dane Cook!) when people still actually shot pictures with … Continue reading Little World/Mushroom Village Photos
Hi and Welcome to my blog!
If this is your first visit I am glad you stopped by; and welcome back if you are a frequent visitor. In my quest to publish my first novel-my inspiration, my idea-I have encountered some crooked turns in the road as well as a few blocks. I continue to persevere in my search for the direction I need to take concerning sharing my work and hoping it will spark the imagination and thought of those who read it. Meanwhile, I wanted to begin to publish it on my own, without a lot of fanfare or bloodletting. I simply want to share my thought, open my heart and give others a glimpse of what I have found in my search for my spiritual identity.
My journey began long before I can remember, but my awakening in this life of searching began with the death of my dear Mother. No one else afforded me the comfort of acceptance, the assurance of devoted love and the constant support that she did. There is no love like that of a mother. There are other great loves, but each is unique unto itself. When she died, a part of me went with her, as did my sense of identity. Always looking to her face for approval, turning to her for advice and support, and always hoping she would return to perfect health and be the mother I remembered her as, it was a devastating blow. Alas, it was to be. As I found myself drowning in a sea of despair, slowly my life began to crumble away. It would seem a disaster to the observer; but for me, it was the moment for my authentic self to emerge. The bitter coldness of knowing one is solely responsible for their own feelings, actions and reactions is shocking on many levels.
Once I learned to accept my new position in the world I knew, I realized how debilitating it is to be dependent on others for our sense of self worth. I began to fell empowered over my own life. This was not a quick process by any means; and to say I no longer struggle would be a blatant lie. I do understand, however, that my experience has brought me to a place of greater compassion for my fellow dream walkers. If one never knows pain, sorrow, illness and loss, it is difficult to understand how these things can affect another. How can one recognize true bliss if they have never seen despair? Bit by bit, angel by angel, book by book and rung by rung I began to ascend the ladder to wholeness. I am proud to say I have come a long way on this path of self discovery. And I am happy to say that my journey continues onward and upward. The most glorious part for me is knowing that I am not traveling alone. For you are here with me. And Spirit is beside us, even when we refuse to acknowledge Its presence.
Why are we here? Where is Eternity? What was THE plan? How do we win the struggle between Good and Evil? These are all legitimate questions and ones that have plagued humankind ever since its mind forgot the truths it came into existence understanding and began the perceived journey “home”. What I have discovered for myself may seem astounding to some, familiar to others and perhaps crazy to many. I only know I have found comfort in realizing the duality of our nature, the connectedness of the All That Is, and the inevitable end to the illusion we like to call “life”. Still there remain so many unanswered questions; but I submit to you that this quest, this journey, the unanswered questions are indeed our reason for continuing life as we know it.
Was there even a “plan”? What if it were more like an experiment, a dream, a hope-born of a simple desire? What if all that truly exists is Love-a love that wants only to perpetuate its existence? This legacy continues on in the human race as we bear children whom we love unconditionally while we bask in the glow of those beautiful beings who become our offspring and the next generation of Creators.
What if Eternity is not somewhere “up” or “out” there? Perhaps it exists around and within us, but we have lost our memory of how to connect. What was once clear and crisp has now dulled to a faint whisper that too often is drowned out by the voices of fear and deception that plague our fractured souls. It was only a small crack to begin with-but when fed by conscious thought it became a chasm that threatened to envelope the reason and hope of its host.
Good and Evil? What if this ancient struggle is not one that takes place in our outer world? What if there are no “good” or “bad” beings? I have come to accept the duality of my own nature, that within my soul lie the seeds of darkness that are eager to cloud my perceptions, to feed my fear of being without love, and to use that hunger to control my actions and reactions.
We spend so much of our lives running from our darkness, denying its existence and begging to be rescued by the Light. What if all we had to do was to use our own light to illuminate the darkness within our souls, accept that we are not perfect within our human bodies and know that in the eyes of The Creator we are perfect-now and always? And always we are perfectly loved.
Will this knowledge repair humanity’s collectively diseased soul? Likely not. But would not the Unconditional Love of the Universe rejoice in the healing of even one soul? One more light in the darkness?
My work is not intended to rebut, undermine or replace any religious doctrine. It is merely my own perception of Creation as I weave my way along this path of illusion called life.
This chapter is the beginning of the book, but not the beginning of the story. It is one that bears retelling from the perspective of its characters. If you find it interesting and would like me to share more, please leave a thought, a reply or a word. I will appreciate your input. I am still in search of the “right” place to publish, but for now I am content to share it here.
“Nothing real can be threatened. Nothing unreal exists. Herein lies the peace of God.”
From A Course In Miracles.
FOREVER NEVER/The Dawn of Illusion
an original novel By
The names of characters and places in this story are primarily derived from Irish and Spanish influences. This is a work of fiction, brought to life to present an idea-an idea intended to provoke imagination and bring comfort in an often uncomfortable world.
The Traveler/The Question
As the sun crept closer to the edge of the horizon and a new dawn approached, the world of Dohman blinked the night shadows from its heavy eyelids. A gentle wind moved across the grassy hillside; and like airy fingers it stirred the sea of green, beckoning all of life to join the illusion once more.
Although light was still a shadowy thought away, the dark magic was already casting its spell over the waking life there, responding to the murmurs of that voice which had cast the oblivion over them. Whispering, it seemed to call from within the morning mists; and in response to the powerful command from the ether, both of them stirred.
It was always the same. As she found consciousness, the first breath of morning crossed her face, cool and fresh, and she began to grope for thought. Lifting her face to the hint of sunrise, she blinked. In that twinkling, she remembered everything. She perceived it all, feeling a flood of relief in the knowing; and in that blinding moment of perception, it was all so vivid, yet so mercurial. She let out a small gasp of comprehension as anguish found her heart and hope permeated her being; and then the veil of darkness descended, yet again obliterating her beautiful glimpse of truth. She lowered her head and sighed as she opened her eyes to this new dawning of The Forgotten, the lucid moment not even to become a memory there in the dark recesses of her mind.
At this precise moment, the other was stirred by morning’s approach; and the callous hand of sorcery repeated its performance. The smell of lavender on the early breezes nudged his senses awake, urging him to embrace her presence. It filled his soul with peace, comfort and the kind of love only she could express. As the earliest slivers of light struck the moldy ground beneath him, the sleepy Traveler called forth the precious vision within his mind, weaving his own form of magic. How faintly the outline seemed this morning, even though he had traced it there with every rising sun since she disappeared from his world.
Loveliness defined her as she moved through the recesses of his memory, a shadowy reminder of the innocence he once was, the trust he once had, and the hope that drove him onward. Yes…through the mists he could see long, dark curls of hair that seemed to take on a life of their own as she moved. Her hand was delicate and soft as she touched his cheek, gazing into his eyes with those dark and endless tunnels of adoration.
His love conjured images of fragrant blossoms and the sounds of laughter. Their laughter. But now there was only he. And what was left of the perfect place he had known as home. Their most beloved Dohman. There floated within his mind a fading image of a garden, hung low with vines and lush green foliage, where he had once known contentment. Through this memory strolled the perfect form of femininity, with him trailing behind and memorizing every detail of her being-the color of her tunic, the turn of her head. She waved! His eyes moved to the object of her gesture; and this was where his deepest pain began. He could only bear this part of the conjuring for an instant before closing the door on the scene. The pain cut like a dagger into his soul, threatening to tear him apart; but then her presence found him once more, hanging like damp air around his drowsy senses, calming him, urging him to keep hope alive.
“Hurry!” she whispered. “I wait..” She must be near! How could she not be when he could feel her very thoughts?
He formed her face within his mind again; but it seemed shrouded in fog. She looked so radiant as her lips parted to speak, to share a thought and a word of comfort. He could see her mouth form his name and waited to hear the music flow from within, his child’s heart beating wildly. Then, to his horror, the fog turned dark and enveloped her face completely, smothering the sound that would have strengthened his heart. In silence, it cried. Then, through the dark veil came the light, the harsh light that signaled a new morning. It was always the same. He marveled that he had never become accustomed to it or been able to deflect it, although he willed it so again and again.
The Traveler lifted himself onto one elbow, gazing over to where his beloved horse was now stirring in the morning light and thought, “What dreams do such creatures have?” As he shielded his eyes from the glare of dawn he wondered how long it would be before the sun simply forgot to rise over their world, leaving them in darkness forever.
A sudden snorting sound brought an end to his musing as, momentarily startled, he remembered his traveling companion. A few feet away lay the bulky form of the grumbling Cave Dweller who had now become his friend in these recent days of searching. Disturbed by his own snoring, the stout one tossed on the bedroll where he lay and thrust his chubby fists into the air, swatting at the newly awakened gnats that combed his bristly chin for abandoned crumbs.
The Traveler stifled a chuckle and reached for a nearby stone which he lightly tossed at his friend. It hit the restless male squarely on the chest before thudding to the ground where it rolled into a thicket of dry brush. The small giant jumped and yelped as he began swinging wildly at an unknown attacker, frightening away the gnats in a frenzied flurry. Now the Traveler was laughing heartily, finding relief from his sorrow, even if it had been at the expense of his riding companion.
“What, in the name of Mor, is so funny?” growled the Cave Dweller, rubbing his eyes and scratching at infinitesimal bites. His chubby hands were stained and his nails blackened from so long digging in the recesses of the caves. “Was that your idea of a ‘Good morning’? Rude…this is not how I am normally awakened. Now, my beloved Oth..”
The Traveler laughed harder now as he interrupted. “Ahhh…so it’s tenderness you prefer. I’m sorry my fat friend, but I have no desire to stir you with a morning kiss, such as your chosen one might. I can barely stand to sleep on the same hillside with you since you see fit to bathe only with the rise of a full moon.”
A loud grunt of indignation escaped the throat of the stout one, but he had no sharp retort for his tall friend while still in such a clouded state.
The Traveler had been exaggerating about the bathing but couldn’t resist the urge to goad his touchy friend. In truth, he was hoping to ease a bit of the other one’s loneliness with his teasing. It had been for the sake of his own best friend back in the land of the caves that this one had agreed to be a part of the search. The two Cave Dwellers had been inseparable from the beginning; and the one who remained back in their homeland-well-it was pitiable what had become of his mind since the Devastation. His beloved companion had disappeared over a bleak horizon, leaving her grieving partner with a new infant to care for, armed only with a broken heart and a handful of charred rock.
The Cave Dweller didn’t find the Traveler’s morning humor entertaining and shot the him a glance of warning, advising his friend that his own foul mood would remain until he had been properly fed.
‘Fine, then’, thought the Traveler as he gathered his tools, leaving the other to do his morning business. There were certainly fish to be caught; so he grabbed his line and clicked his tongue at the white mare now standing patiently near the edge of the trees, waiting to be led down to the river. She approached her master gently, nudging his hand with her warm, wet nose, and gladly accepted the piece of fruit he held out to her.
Precious treasure, he thought, as he surrendered the sweet treat to his loyal four-legged friend. If his traveling companion had seen this, he would have lost his head-and his temper. Giving food to a beast when he was ‘starving’! The Traveler rolled his eyes to think of it. It was of no consequence anyway, for he fully intended to bring back a nice string of fish to hang over the fire. This would at least ease the hunger pains of his friend. Sadly, there was nothing he could do for the male’s aching soul. Not until they found her, he told himself. If only…
Originally posted on Angelart Star:
When your mind is sunk in darkness of the solitude, The guardian angel knows all of your sadness, When your soul feels the pains of the life, The guardian angel embraces you gently with love, A cut branch and the damaged spirit revive, The holy blessing is given to all pure existence, The guardian angel continue praying for your happiness, You are protected by eternal brightness of the universe. Continue reading Sawa-angelart-6
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