Revelations and Refections-A Letter to Myself


Salutations Dear One

First, congratulations on the growth you have made over the last few years. It is amazing how far you have come.

However, don’t stop yet. There are still many miles to go in this journey. And as we saw this last week, you’re still not whole. 

The biggest thing you need to remember…. you are strong and capable. You don’t need external validation. 

And you need to forget this idea that you are a fraud. You’re not. No one else thinks it. It’s just that stupid voice in your head. Silence that voice.

Focus on the positive. Focus on all the amazing things you’ve done.  Focus on your dreams. Focus on the love💜

Love always,

Your number one fan😊

The Power of a Series by Katie Muhtaris


Nerdy Book Club

When I was about nine years old, a family friend gave me a large box of Nancy Drew books, the kind where Nancy still sported a stylish 60’s bob and sensible flats. They had once belonged to their teenage daughter who had passed away many years earlier.  I suppose they thought the books would be better served in the hands of another young reader, or maybe they were just too painful to look at.  Either way, we left Crown Point, Indiana, with a box of books in the trunk and me laying across the back seat watching the rhythmic passing of highway street lamps.  I fell asleep somewhere just before the Illinois border and woke up the next morning in my bed.

Bouncing from my bed with an uncharacteristic energy, I seized one faded folded flap and pulled the box, now sitting in the middle of my bedroom floor, open…

View original post 1,000 more words

Still


In the quiet moments 

I hear your voice

Whispers of the past

Haunt my memories

Days like today

Bring back the cold

The darkness of your leaving

The tears

Wishing I could’ve said something 

Anything

To make you stay

The suddenness with which you left

The finality of that shotgun blast

Left a ragged hole

Hidden deep in my mind

Which reappears without warning

Even after twenty years and more

I miss you… still.

Kiera’s Song


stone-cottage

A shadow darkened the already dimly lit forest. Kiera could hear the dragon’s roar and knew that her grandmother would need the herbs she was picking very soon. Every time the dragon attacked, people came from the village for healing potions. The dragon had distracted the village elders from the witch hunt they were organizing. Healers from all around the land had been in hiding from the elders for months. Kiera’s mother and aunts were caught and taken away to the castle. No one had heard news of them, so there was a chance they could be alive.

She could smell the dragon fire. It must be close. Kiera picked a few more herbs and put them in her basket. Suddenly, she heard yelling from the meadow and realized that the King’s men were close. She turned and ran back down the path to her grandmother’s cabin.

Behind her, she could hear a loud commotion but she didn’t stop until she got home. Breathlessly, she came into the cabin and put the basket on her grandmother’s workbench.

“The king’s men are in the meadow. I think they are fighting the dragon, but they are very close!”

Her grandmother turned quickly. “Let’s go, child. Even if it’s the dragon they are after, we cannot take the chance they will find us!”

They gathered the herbs from the workbench into a basket, put on their cloaks and went out the door. Following a faint path behind the cabin, they went into the darkest part of the forest. Kiera kept close to her grandmother, not wanting to get lost in the dark or spirited away by the ghosts. They walked quickly and quietly until they reached the tiny stone hut where her grandmother’s grandmother had been born. This part of the forest never saw the sun, so she didn’t see the hut until her grandmother stopped.

The hut was musty. Her grandmother lit a candle. In one corner, the roof had collapsed and there was mold growing down the stone wall. Along one wall were the stone benches which served as seating and as beds. A large fireplace took up the back wall. Her grandmother went to the fireplace and lit a meager peat fire. The rest of the hut was dedicated to herbology: a large work bench and a cabinet which held crocks and tools.

Kiera set her basket down on the workbench and then got the bucket. The stream was only twelve steps from the door. She went out and rinsed the bucket and then filled it with cold, clear water. When she returned, she poured half of the water into the pitcher on the workbench. Then she used the remaining water to rinse off the benches, the small table and the workbench. Meanwhile, her grandmother was warming the stew she had brought from the cabin.

 

Lost


Sandia Snow

 

Lost

In my head

In my dreams

Unsure where to go

Which way to turn

Tangled

In forgotten memories

In a sea of emotions

Twisted up by thoughts

Of what could have been

Of what should have been

Wishing my mind could

Let go of expectations

And just relax

And trust that all is unfolding as it should.wp-1456170947267.jpg

Giving Myself Permission


One of the interesting side-developments of this fitness journey is that I am taking on a lot of different aspects of myself. This is not just about losing weight or living a healthy lifestyle. I am finding that I am tackling some healing that needs to happen, and some things I have spent my life fighting.

I started this post thinking about dinner tonight. I have never really gotten the hang of cooking for one. I always cook too much and I tend to eat it all. Which doesn’t jive with the lifestyle I am trying to create for myself. I have to learn to eat less and healthier. I am working on changing food choices, but amounts are still challenging me. So I need to learn to give myself permission to save some for later.

I need to learn to give myself permission.

I am in charge of my life. No need to look to anyone else for permission. I’m it. No one to save me, no safety net. Pretty powerful stuff for someone who has spent her life following the lead of whoever was in charge.

No more walking on eggshells, waiting for the explosion. No more keeping my mouth shut for safety sake, even though I knew what needed to be said. No more dancing around, skirting the issue to keep the peace.

It’s somewhat scary not being scared.

Now, though, I have to learn to do some of those things that I have never really had to worry about. Money management…which I am not particularly good at. Time management…which I can do if I have a goal. And this fitness journey.

I need to give myself permission to succeed.

Serendipity by Donalyn Miller


Nerdy Book Club

We moved eleven months ago and I’m still unpacking books. With the speed and efficiency of pit stop mechanics, Don and I can assemble an IKEA bookcase in less than an hour, but it takes me days to fill one. As I open each box, I consider every book and its placement in our new house. We culled a lot of books during the move. Books we’d kept for decades became suddenly less dear when we thought about dragging another box of books across town. Damaged books, that library book Don paid for three years ago because it was lost, books our kids didn’t want to keep—we threw away or donated hundreds of books.

polar express

As we unpack, more books leave for less crowded homes. Duplicates. (Why do we own three copies of The Polar Express?) Outdated books. College textbooks. Hardest of all—books I have to confess I will never…

View original post 936 more words

Previous Older Entries

%d bloggers like this: