The soul steeps.
Keeping the best for the right moment.
Until, it matches the sun with an exhale
and burns with the fire at the core.
is a rhythm that is mastered with experience and patience.
The waiting is soft and light
full of meaning.
The work is messy and daunting
full of disarray.
Out of the great pain, lives the greatest and brightest awakening.
This soul and her rising is like first breath
and the stillness on the lake's watery surface.
and at the same time...
Coming into, returning from.
with a grip that holds power to take back,
to throw white daisy petals into the iced over water and
Wake up little soul, wake up.
You are emerging...
Welcome to my Virtual Journal. Here you will find #fieldnotes of a Medial Woman. I write unabashedly imperfect, mostly short, even one-line word play. I share story. I share- first, my process. I view my life-living as a grand experiment and I am taking notes, mapping a trail by moments, stories and synchronicities.
I write about...